Novel & Cerita Dabi Without His Scars

The Adversary Dark Prince (POV) When people notice the jagged scar on my arm, their eyes often widen with worry, and they jump to conclusions that are far from the truth. It's a common reaction, especially in a world where scars usually hint at pain or violence. But this scar tells a different story—it's not a sign of suffering; it's a symbol of something beautiful and meaningful in my life. Each curve and line of the scar represents resilience and a deep bond that has lasted through challenges, showing that not all scars are reminders of hurt. Instead, it reminds me of love and the strength I've gained along my journey.

His hands clenched into a tight grip, so tight that his scars began to burn. Daisy rode carefreely under the vigilant eye of annurse, using the bicycle Xavier had provided. As she turned her innocent gaze met Derrick’s gaze staring right at her. The man was looking right at her. Naturally curious, she strolled off her bike and walked to where he stood, standing right in front of him and staring up with innocent curiosity. The duo, one towering and scarred, the othermpetite and curious, engaged in a silent study. Daisy pointed out, “You have a lot of boo-boos.”

Hayden cupped Dabria's face with both of his hands as he examined her body for any injuries. Dabria giggled as she saw her father worrying over something that was impossible. "Dad! It's not my blood. I am a killer. Not a prey. You should go. I will be fine. I just need a little rest. It's not like I have any scratches on my body. They couldn't even touch me." Dabria spoke in a proud tone while staring into Hayden's eyes. Hayden sighed in relief as Dabria assured him. He stepped away from Dabria and turned his head towards Zeus.

working. I tried to resist but he started showing an unnatural amount of strength. Holding one of my paws messed up by balance, after all, I still wasn't used to this body. When he had a full grip on it, he pushed me to my surprise. I toppled over and lay flat on my back. It was going to be a struggle to get back on all fours again. Blade eventually gets up on both of his feet. He takes off his torn shirt which still has the claw marks on it. His chest is lean and defined with plump biceps and hard abs. The scratches I gave him earlier rested above his abs and they seemed to be healing themselves. As I struggled to get up, Blade came towards me and it seemed that with every step, his scars s

The sixth time photos of him cheating surfaced, Leander Prescott snatched the knife from my hand and brought it down hard. Stroke by stroke, he carved the name "Seraphina Vale" into his thigh. "Happy now? Can you leave Celeste alone?" I stood frozen, staring at him as if I suddenly didn't recognize the man in front of me. For ten years, we had tortured each other over Leander's infidelity. Every time he crossed the line, I carved my name into his flesh. Wrist-cutting, kidnapping, even hanging Celeste Waverly from a helicopter to threaten her—every scar on his body had a bloody story behind it. He had never been this calm. … Seeing the confusion in my eyes, a flicker of tenderness pa

It was the biggest mistake of my life. If only I had walked away from Ryan sooner, I wouldn't have ended up with broken fingers that destroyed my dream of playing the piano. The Menzies were powerful in Soviana, their influence stretching so far it felt like they could control everything. So when Ryan crushed my fingers, trying to seek help was pointless. No one would have cared. Diana took a sip of her coffee and continued, outlining her demands, "That isn't enough. Miranda doesn't want to see you anymore. So I'm asking you to leave Soviana—go as far as you can."

She hadn't planned for this moment, but this excursion made her prey once again. "Izzy, what happened to your belly? You know I already saw everything, right? And these stretchmarks are huge! What happened to you for those years you left me?" Fabian asked sternly, staring at her belly in contemplation. His fingers moved slowly, trailing the scars with a mixture of pain and curiosity. "They're deep," he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he continued to trace the marks, each one telling a story he desperately wanted to understand.

he says, looking into Dina's eyes. "We are wondering if you can take us back to the Scorpion Queen. We have to give her back the scythe." "Of course." Before we leave, I go to talk to Mara. She looks very pregnant. On the way to the Scorpions, I observe Abasi. He can't take his eyes off of Dina. But Dina is acting like he doesn't exist. He comes to me. "Is she single?" he asks me. "She just broke up with a guy. I guess she needs time," I say.

He stepped closer. And we stepped back. Twice. “That won’t be necessary,” Diana said, “Thank you for your time.” “Nah, don’t be all difficult now.” The guy on the right spoke for the first time. He had a jarring scar that slashed across his nose and all the way to his eye, permanently leaving it closed. His good eye ran down my body. “If we get along well, we can reconsider.” What I wanted was to reconfigure his face but I responded instead, “No need,” I took Diana’s arm, “we are leaving.”

“I’ll be right back. Sit down, please.” I ran to the kitchen, and when I returned with the cups, I stopped in the doorway. Daimon was sitting in the armchair, shirtless, his skin marked by scars, muscles defined, veins bulging on his forearms and neck. His expression was distant, lost in the painting… but his body, even wounded, looked ready for battle—or for something far more dangerous. My legs nearly gave out. He was sin in the flesh. “If you keep looking at me like that, little bunny…” he murmured, his eyes locking onto mine. “I won’t mind ruining your nice stitch work.”