Kaido Scars Novels & Stories

I might have nothing but I will still stand like a pillar. I still don't understand one thing. Why couldn't he kill me that day? He said something is holding him back. Is that even possible? A tattoo on the leader's chest. I don't have tattoos. I have scars. Tears blurred my eyes as I put my hand on my chest. My scars define how strong I am. They might not allure anyone. I might be ugly in the world's eye but I know how these scars have made me strong. If they are powerful so do I am.

TWENTY ONE ANSWERS. AURORA’S POINT OF VIEW. “Correct,” Silas murmured. “Question two. Kai has a scar on his left shoulder. A jagged, faint little thing. How did he get it, and more importantly, how old was he?” I felt Kai’s posture shift quickly… as did mine. I could not remember this information in the file…. nor had I seen Kai naked to even know there was a scar. I swallowed, placed a confident smile on my lips so I appeared not too flustered, before thinking as hard as possible with the glass of water to my lips so I could buy time.

Each step felt heavier than the last, my thoughts weighing me down. When I reached my room, I walked straight to the full-length mirror against the wall. The moment I saw myself, my breath hitched. There on the side of my neck was the mark. Kaiden’s mark. The very thing that bound us. The bite had healed completely, but the scar it left behind was nothing like I had expected. It wasn’t an ugly wound. It was… beautiful. The mark shimmered faintly, almost as if it was glowing under the dim lights of my room. The crescent shape of his bite was etched perfectly into my skin, blending with the natural tattoo I was born with, the crescent moon surrounded by water droplets.

I scrambled the rest of the way down and knelt beside him. His eyes fluttered open as I turned him on his side, checking his wounds. And that’s when I saw it. The scar. A crooked line just below his collarbone. It wasn’t the scar that chilled me. It was the tattoo inked over it: a faded anchor and the letters KD—Kian Davenport. No one should’ve had that mark but me. I pulled his shirt down further. My breath caught in my throat. The same birthmark. Same shape. Same place.

​I nod, gripping the staff, the wood already warm under my palms. ​But my breath hitches and my eyes refuse to look away as Kai reaches for the hem of his grey t-shirt. With a smooth, fluid motion, he shrugs it off, tossing the fabric onto a nearby bench. ​Goddess. The dawn light traces the hard, sculpted planes of his chest. He is a breathtaking vision of storm and strength. His muscles are corded and rippling beneath sun-kissed skin. A faint, jagged scar traces his collarbone from some forgotten battle, and the deep V of his hips disappears tantalisingly beneath the waistband of his leather pants.

"Leila, you just focus on your own business. When you need help, call me. As for other things, you should not get involved." He turned around and I saw that his back was covered with scars. The old scars were from the debris that had cut him when the Sin Pack exploded. The new scars, from a knife cut at some point, hadn't healed. These wounds were squeezed into his creamy white back, and it made my heart skip a beat. I couldn't help but lunge forward. I didn't care if the spray of water would get my clothes wet, I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind and pressed the side of my face against his shoulder blade.

Luckily for me, I didn't have to think too much because the moment Xander’s tongue moved over my lower lip, I folded immediately. I parted my lips, only slightly, but it was more than enough for Xander to slip his tongue through. I moaned into his mouth as he pulled me closer against him. His breath fanned my cheek as he captured my earlobe in between his teeth, grazing the outer surface of my ear. “None of those things matter, Kieran.” Goosebumps lined the surface of my skin as he whispered in my ear. “Nothing will ever change the way I look at you and I will never hurt you.”

I don't believe him, I don't see how I'll ever be able to again but he's adamant he's got an idea that'll work. This morning I finally looked at my injuries properly. I started with my dick while I was relieving myself. The head of my cock has lots of small cuts that have scabbed over and bruised slightly. They should be healed soon enough, as they aren't all that painful. My back however, is a different story. When I looked over my shoulder into the mirror and saw the lashes for the first time I almost broke down crying. There is so many of them. They're scabs now, but the skin around them is still an angry red colour. No wonder it hurts so bad when anything touches them. The worst part is

Talon laughed, giving him a playful punch to the stomach. But the moment turned. Kaed winced and grabbed at his stomach, his face twisting in pain. The smile on Talon’s face vanished instantly. “What is it?” Talon asked, worry written clearly in the furrow of his brow. He pulled Kaed closer, lifting his shirt—and my breath caught. A long, jagged scar stretched across his lower abdomen, stopping just beneath his navel. It looked deep. Life-threatening. “It’s not healed yet?” Talon asked, voice low and tense.

He raised his arms to press the release lever on the side of the gun, clearing the open chamber to ensure the weapon was entirely safe. As he lifted his arms, the hem of his dark t-shirt pulled upward. A jagged, pale scar stretched across the left side of his ribs. The thick, uneven tissue stood out starkly against his tanned skin. It was an old injury, completely healed and faded around the edges, but the massive size of the mark proved he had survived a severe trauma. Kade noticed the sudden shift in my attention. He lowered his arms and pulled his shirt down, covering the scar from my view.