Hidden Scars Novels & Stories

Diverging her mind from those painful memories to replace them with these new ones. Pulling back from her, he sees her head tilted to a side. Not willing to show him her face. Yet that Scar, it was visible now. The evidence of his lost child, authentic now. And that's when he looks up at the moon through the window ,remembering Sophie last words making a tear to roll down his eyes. Let your heart guide you to your only light.. Yet, if still the darkness of her eyes veils the truth of light. Remember Scars will always get visible, when all lights are off.

I passed out naked, bloody, and alone but free; after ten years, I was free. I had just done the unthinkable. I completed the rejection ritual marking myself as a mate rejecter, a pariah in my community. I not only rejected my mate but my old pack. My whole identity to that point – was gone. I was now scarred, no longer marked. Now, I carry the black scar created by the silver blade, and I reject the mate made just for me by the goddess. The cursed life of a "Scarred One" is what I must look forward to now. The sense of loss was foreboding. Was what I lost the only cost for my freedom from my mate bond?

For the first time since this whole thing started, his mind was finally quiet. Then Vera shifted on the bed. It was a small movement, Nothing dramatic. Just her adjusting her position against the pillows. But the movement lifted the edge of her shirt along her side for just a second. Kael saw it and His body went completely still. Three thin scars, Vertical. Carved into the skin just below her ribs. The world seemed to pause around him. For a moment his brain refused to accept what he was looking at. His mind tried to reject it, to dismiss it as coincidence, as something meaningless.

Lauren gazed into the mirror as she peeled off her clothes, not wanting to miss a single sight of it. The once white bandages that had been wrapped on her back now had a hue of red. She sighed and even when she knew it would earn her scolding from Malcolm, she slowly peeled the bandage off her back closing her eyes at the gory sight that greeted her. Her eyes teared. She didn’t believe it was this bad. And Bryan had seen it too? It made her sob more. She didn’t want him to end up having trauma because of her. She was used to it after all.

she said, her eyes tracing my upper body and I had trouble reading her expression because she didn’t seem unsettled by my half-dressed state. “Everyone has scars, some are skin deep while others reach beyond that.” “Soul deep,” she whispered. “Are you referring to yourself?” She watched me mop up the blood and brushed the shards into the dustpan then smiled strangely up at me. “I don’t think my scars will ever fade.” “They don’t need to fade.” I grabbed her hand and touched it to the scar above my bellybutton and her fingertips fluttered over my skin, her eyes wide with shock. “A knife went in there. The wound wouldn’t heal for a long time. For a moment, I was sure it wouldn’t heal at all, h

Please let me not have imagined that look, that scent, that pull that has never gone away no matter how hard I tried to bury it. My snout brushes warm skin and my stomach twists violently. I hesitate. Just for a second. Fear grips me hard enough that my paws feel unsteady, because once I see it, I cannot unsee it. Once I know, there is no taking it back. Either this shatters me or it holds me together, and I am suddenly terrified of both outcomes. I shove the shirt higher. And then I see it. The scar. Jagged and faded, pale against his ribs, old and unmistakable. A bullet wound that never healed right, twisted slightly like the memory of pain refused to fade completely. A mark burned into my

I checked up on Grey, he was still sleeping soundly, and went back inside my room. I removed my clothes, looking at my scars, they’ve faded but they’re still there, never letting me forget. I smeared my finger on the scar below my belly button. [“You want to escape?”] a memory when I was trying to leave, the deepest one right above my kidney, [“She doesn’t bleed from her vagina, let’s make her bleed from somewhere else.”] I smirked rubbing soap on it thinking it’ll fade, they won’t, I know it, I’m just being delusional.

The people who destroyed her mother—the Hynes family, Robert, and every accomplice who helped bury their crimes—are likely dining in upscale restaurants right now, sipping fine wine and laughing casually. They believe every terrible secret is buried forever, that no one will ever remember these young women’s names. I brush a finger along my own neck, tracing a faint pale scar left from a rat bite in a cellar when I turned eighteen. It’s tiny, usually hidden beneath my collar; even Alexander barely remembers it exists. But I feel its presence all the same. I know what it means to be trapped in the dark, to spend your days waiting desperately for a saviour. I create a blank document and type a

Jace hands her his black t-shirt, before turning his back to us, still holding his jacket out in front of him. I get up, dipping my head down, resting my forehead against the cool wet blades, focusing on the human within. Willing my wolf to retreat. I slowly retract my claws and canines, pawing at the ground and licking my teeth as they do. My bones swiftly and smoothly shorten their length, seeming to gliding into each other, like the rods of a tent as they click into place. I can feel my wolf melt away along with my fur, and shiver at the cold breeze blowing over my bare naked body.

Zack stepped into the moonlight streaming through the shattered floor-to-ceiling windows. He wasn't wearing a shirt. His chest was a map of scars—bite marks, claw rakes, and the jagged line where a hybrid had nearly gutted him last week. He didn't look like a tech-support specialist anymore. He looked like a scavenger. A ghost. He inhaled the cold, metallic air, his pupils dilating until his eyes were almost entirely black.