Jason Todd Scars Novels & Stories

"It is clear that you want to kill me but I still don't know why. Alpha...I mean, Jason might have offended you but I have nothing to do with this. I had a very simple human life before I was dragged into all this." "Cruel as it may sound. Killing you is the only way I can settle the score." The blood on his skin had clot now. It would take a steamy hot shower to get every bit of dried blood off. Now that he was closer, I had time to notice his ripped body and the brutal scars that covered him from his neck to his hip bones. They looked similar to the ones Jason had sustained on his neck and considering they both had history, It was easy to establish how those scars came to be.

he said, his voice cold and detached. Skylar’s heart shattered as she nodded, her sobs wracking her body. “Please, help me,” she begged, knowing it was futile. Instead of offering comfort, Jason brought down pads and tossed them to her. “Use these, clean up and use it.” he ordered, his tone dismissive. For the next few days, Skylar bled and cried, her body and spirit broken. Jason ignored her suffering, only coming down to bring food and more pads. When the bleeding finally stopped, she felt like an empty shell, all hope drained from her.

At the next moment, Jason's expression froze. "Tell me, what's going on?" Jason approached Scar and asked. "Mister Sky, what happened was that little punk was about to take Miss Dale away forcibly. This bar had done nothing to stop it." Scar told Jason. Taking a glance at Dirk, who was on the ground, Jason grunted. "Throw him out, chop his hands off." Jason felt like an eyesore to keep looking at trash like Dirk, who can only be assumed as a cancerous tumor society. Jason knew that a lot more women would be scarred if Dirk was left unscathed.

The floor was covered in debris. But there was evidence of recent occupation. A mattress in the corner. Empty food containers. A small fire pit. Jason was here. I heard movement. A figure emerged from the shadows. Jason. He looked terrible. His clothes were torn. His face was gaunt. His eyes were wild. He had been running for weeks. And it showed. "Scarlett." "Jason." "I knew you'd find me." "I told you I would." He laughed. It was a hollow sound.

Jason hummed and Ammy melted into his embrace, breathing deeply her alphas' contented scent. "That's much better, right, my love? Let those silly pups chase each other while I hold you in my arms." Ammy blushed and gripped both hands tightly on Jason' thighs. There was no space between their bodies, and she pressed back even harder, wishing she could take off her shirt and feel Jason' warm skin against her. She hadn't thought about her scars in so long. They had always been a part of her, a painful punishment for even the smallest of defiance against Jones. She dreamed of it still, the snap of a riding whip between her shoulders, her father snapping whip-thin branches from the nearest tree a

"Jason found her through a man named Marcus Webb." I had not heard the name before. "Who is he?" "He operates privately. People-finding, mostly missing persons, corporate surveillance, tracking individuals who don't want to be found. He's not licensed in the traditional sense but he knows how to work around that. He's used by people who need results without a paper trail." She turned a page. "Jason hired him approximately three weeks after Skylar left. Webb is good at what he does. He found her within six weeks."

Allison tried to run, but he caught up with her and slapped her again, sending her crashing to the ground. "Please don't kill me. I have a son. Please don’t kill me," Allison cried, but Jason only laughed at her like a psychopath—because, indeed, he was one. "I'm not going to kill you, my dear. I'm just going to hurt you to teach Scott a lesson—not to raise his shoulders just because he's a billionaire!" Jason snapped, raising his weapon high to stab her. Allison screamed, shielding herself with her hands, but before Jason could strike, a flying kick from Scott knocked him to the ground, and then Scott rushed to Allison.

“You told me once you were addicted to my face. Said it was your drug. Well… it’s gone now. Just scars. So please—go find someone whole.” “I’m so sorry, Jake…” Ariana choked out. “Sorry?” I laughed bitterly, my head shaking. “I wish sorry could fix it.” And then—something warm touched me. A hand. Small. Soft. Real. It was Liz. I knew how her hands felt. “Jake…” Her voice was soft, trembling. Her eyes were dripping with tears, but she didn’t look away. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t disgusted. She was just… there. She touched my scars like they were nothing, tracing them without being disgusted.

They all fell on their knees without a word. Scoffing, he dipped his palms into his pant pockets. “Scar!” A man dressed in complete black stepped forward from behind, “Yes Boss.” “Lock them up. Make sure none get even a drop of water until my son is found.” “Yes Boss.” Scar turned his gaze to the six kneeling men and immediately, they got on their feet and followed him without a struggle. Lauren carefully parked the bike in its designated corner with a sigh. She was done with her last job for the day—home delivery.

Through the haze, he thought he saw her. Rhea stood still, voice like ice. "Eddie, I don't love you anymore. I'm leaving. For good." "No! Rhea! Don't go!" He jolted awake, gasping. Glenna hovered beside him, tears in her eyes. "Eddie! You're okay. You scared me... Does it still hurt?" Eddie stared at the bandages. Underneath, his skin was wrecked—bloody, blistered. The meds dulled it, but the pain still bit through.