King Of Scars Novels & Stories

Marcus stepped behind her pushing the wheel chair out of the ward. Scar is seated on the bed wrapped in a duvet,she looks pale and weak with eye bags. Marcus set the camera facing her properly,her scars that made her look formerly dangerous now made her look vulnerable,like someone beaten down by life,a number of times. “Good day guys,I'm Scar ,yeah that's how I remember my name, though people call me Lisa but I don't feel connected to it” She coughed, Marcus passed her a handkerchief,her hands trembled as she collected it,she coughed into it,her body trembling as she coughed,she raised her tears filled eyes, sniffing softly.

But what shocked me most was his face. The rumors said he was a disfigured, ugly monster. But the man before me had a face so handsome it was almost unnatural. His features were as sharp as a marble sculpture, his skin a sickly pale, and his deep green eyes were bottomless pits. There were no scars on his face, no sign of disfigurement at all. This was Caspian Valerius, the most feared king of Chicago's underworld. He didn't even glance at me. From the moment he walked in, he was speaking in a low voice to the lawyer beside him, his expression so cold it was as if he were here to sign a simple business contract.

The king almost ripped my head off with his sword but I was able to slide out of harms way on time. He, rushed forward to strike again, I ducked underneath, and noticed his scar was opened and slashed successively through the wound I had observed in his thighs, causing the king to scream in pain. Everyone held their breath in peace as they hoped not to see a major upset. While the king was favoring his scar, I went full on attack mode and for each of my strike forced the king back. He blocked with his sword till I swinged my sword so hard that it broke the king's sword apart

The Queen nodded in satisfaction and stepped aside, revealing a Prince who never ceases to take my breath away. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to stand erect with my chin raised proudly, then I looked into his honeysuckle eyes, and swallowed. “I, River Scarrow, reject you, Densmore Rutherford, as my mate.” Immediately I stated that I felt a different type of heat. One that felt destructive and surgical. “Do you accept?” I muttered. The entire hall went silent again as all eyes turned to Densmore. His deep sunken eyes seemed to hold conflict as his lips pressed together. I held my breath, a sliver of me wishing he’d say no but then he nodded his approval.

“Oh, wow. That’s so crazy. Gosh, my head hurts already. I don’t want to think about anything.” “It’s okay, I understand,” June nodded. “I’m sure the reason he kidnapped Luke was because he knew Luke knew everything you knew.” Elena sighed. “He’ll be fine, right?” “I’m sorry. I can’t promise you anything,” June replied, her gaze shifting from Elena. “Conor is scarier than you could ever imagine. He has no human feelings whatsoever. I mean, look at us, both tied up here without even knowing where or-” “Shh,” Elena cut June off. “I hear footsteps.”

"Don, the knife work was lethal. If you'd truly meant to kill me, I wouldn't be here breathing." A flicker of madness in Wade's eyes froze for a split second before he erupted into a wild laugh. His laughter twisted the scars on his face into something even more sinister. Out of nowhere, he lunged and clamped down on my wrist. His grip was so strong I thought my bones might snap as he tried to shake me off. However, the moment his fingers brushed the inside of my wrist, he froze. There, an ugly burn scar marred my skin. It was an old wound, shaped like a scorched butterfly.

I told him and retreated to my bed. Elias scoffed and took off his shirt. I went still mid step,forgetting how to breathe for a second. My blood ran cold at the sight in front of me. "What happened?" I whispered. I got no response. "Elias," I called again, "What happened to you?" "Battle scars," he said gruffly, moving about. It wasn’t just his back. It was on his chest, too. How had he not healed from his scars? He was the fucking Lycan King for Goddess' sake, what's the explanation behind this??

“You all should say something else because that tale is as old as time. Just one slave and suddenly, I am a bad guy?” I watched the blank look on Blaise. Not bothered by it. He has always had that look when I talk to him about Noura and me. “Let's get this over with.” I cleared my throat. “We got an Intel yesterday on the Rogues.” I brought out a brown envelope from the drawer. I tossed it towards Blaise. “The Rogue King?” Blaise looked at me, confusion oblivious in his eyes as he stared at the open note. “Yes,” I said. They have a new king now and he's no other than Scarface. The Scarface every coward fears."

Instead, his fingers gently curl under my chin, making me look up. A mistake. Because now, I see him up close. Oh Creator…. He is not just handsome… he… he is devastatingly out of this world. His chocolate-colored hair is long and styled back into a sleek tied knot underneath his crown. His eyes still appear gold and slitted like a dragon’s, and his face is sharp, carved from stone and battle, with a strong stubbled jaw and perfectly aligned cheekbones that accentuate his face so well. A scar runs from his left brow down to the middle of his cheek, a cruel, jagged sign meaning that even a King like him can bleed.

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?