Novel & Cerita Dabi Without His Scars

Damien chuckled a bit. “Nobody cares about your scars, mate. With or without them, you are beautiful inside and out. Scars are not signs of weakness; instead, they are a sign that you survived something horrific. I don’t know what happened in the Midnight Pack, but I am sure you would have died, but here you are, alive with only scars to show what you went through,” he said, and I kept quiet.

Damien looked at him in surprise and asked him, “You also think so?” “Yes, oh my, what happened to your scar?” Darius asked as his eyes widened in surprise he suddenly got short of words when he realized that his brother's face no longer had the scar on it. “That is the same thing I wanted to talk to you and Draven about,” Damien said in a serious tone. “Really? So what happened to it?” Darius asked curious now as to how a scar that had been on Damien’s face since they were little boys would all of a sudden disappear.

The fabric joined Damian's on the floor. They stood there, bare-chested, the city lights painting their skin gold and silver. Sebastian's left shoulder was still marked—the pink scar from the bullet graze, the newer marks from the cheap shot in the game. Damian's body was a map of older wounds—the ribs his father had broken, the burns, the cuts. "You're beautiful," Sebastian said. "I'm scarred." "You're beautiful." Sebastian kissed Damian's shoulder. The scar there—a cigarette burn, small and round. He kissed it like he was trying to erase it. Then he kissed Damian's chest, his stomach, the line of hair below his navel.

“We’re going to be working together. I know you have a question. Ask. If I don’t want to answer, I won’t. No hard feelings.” He nodded. “Does your wolf have a blind eye, too?” he gestured to my scar. I grinned. “No, Dali has the sight of both her eyes. I got this scar before I got my wolf so she wasn’t able to heal me. She does have a black streak down her face, though, in the exact place of my scar. It’s the only color on her body.” “That is so cool!” Bob was enthusiastic. I laughed again.

Rai sat down on the porch to catch his breath, his face facing downward while Damian slid me off his body. I turned around to punch him playfully on his chest when I noticed a scar on his left chest. I reached out my hand to touch it, not laughing anymore. I traced the scar with my finger and saw two more similar scars — small, circular marks. Cigarette burns? Did someone abuse him? I was horrified by the thought. Suddenly Damian grabbed my hand, preventing me from touching the other two marks. I looked up and saw him shaking his head, his expression bitter and hurt. Without thinking, I caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned his head onto my hand.

Your wish is my command, ma'am," he gave me a naughty grin, taking off his shirt and singlet in one swift movement. Standing before me was a fantasy that came to life. Damien was a magnificent naked god, a beautiful man radiating primal strength with his thick, muscled body. My breath hitched when I spotted scars below his chest. They ran down his torso in jagged lines. Although they were healing, I couldn't help but worry. "It's nothing," he assured me. I nodded and tugged at the zipper of his pants. They slithered on the floor and I craved to claim him in my mouth.

Debs explained and I guess having so much strength for a little body is weird. I don’t know how to respond to her saying things like that. I don’t know what to say. All I can do is look at her as if I am guilty of something I did wrong. Which I did not. The only thing I feel guilty for is giving Dante that scar. Oh, right. I should ask about the scar. “How is Dante doing? With the right arm. You know, the scar has caused him some immoble issues,” I asked concerned and this made them both look at each other and frown at me. “How do you know Dante has a scar? He has hidden it pretty well, until I needed to examine him. He did not want to share how he got it. He believes it will change someone’

Vivian’s face was pale, her mouth opening and closing like a child caught doing something bad. Damian’s words cut through the air like a blade. “Vivian. Your scar. It’s gone.” For a beat, silence stretched. Then Vivian laughed. The sound was too high, too fake. Or maybe I’ve gotten used to her being a queen of manipulation so literally everything about her to me is fake. “What are you talking about?” “You used to have a scar on your right leg,” Damian said, his voice low, his brows furrowed as if he was replaying memories. “From the accident. The night I—”

The door swung shut behind them. I stood there, staring at the doorway. My hands began trembling. Dwayne looked at me, “Rebel. Do you have scars?.” I couldn't answer. The injured girl stared at me too. Her eyebrows pulled together, “You have scars?” My stomach twisted. I instinctively pulled my sleeves down even though they were already covering my arms. She looked confused, “How did you get them?” Dwayne stepped closer, Rebel, you don't have to explain anything.” I looked at him. He was trying to help. But suddenly I could feel the walls closing in around me.

"If Damien is still out there... will he try to find me again?" Elena didn’t lie. "He might. But he won’t win this time. I promise you." Rose looked to Sophie, who held her hand tightly. "Then take him down. For all of us." **** That Night – Elena’s Quarters The room was dimly lit, scattered with evidence boards, encrypted tablets, and scattered documents. Grayson sat in a chair near the fireplace, shirtless, wrapping a fresh bandage around his torso. Elena entered, her eyes catching on the scar that crossed his ribs.