Lightning Bolt Scar Novels & Stories

, I came out of my car and I wasn’t surprised when Scarlett came out wearing a long face. “You bitch!” She said as she walked towards me. “Can we do this later, I got work. Thank you” I said dryly and made to enter my car but she was fast to touch me by my hand. I quickly removed her hand from my body like it was a plague and looked at her angrily. “Never in your life, I repeat, never touch me with that hand you uses to give my dad a hand job” Scarlett looked pretty embarrassed as I said that but she was quick to cover it up with a scoff.

Lightning Storm, however, cracks his knuckles as he steps forward. “For the record,” Storm starts, laughing and pointing at us. “I have unfinished business with every single one of you.” Raising both his arms, lights start to gather in them. Before long, lightning bolts start to shoot out, hitting everything. Parts of the street and buildings’ walls are hit, exploding into dust. Dozens and dozens of bolts fly past or toward us. With QuickShot on me, I can’t move fast. I see one bolt heading right for the two of us.

If I would have known, she never would have come here today. I couldn’t contain this electricity much longer. I was about to explode. The sounds of men grunting caused Grant to look over. Tatina ducked as I made eye contact with her. With all my concentration, I focused this energy directly at Grant. A single lightning bolt came out of my finger and entered Grant’s body. The gun went off a few times as his body flew backwards.

And so, I made my way to the seer’s quarters, hoping she might give me something, anything, to hold on to. It was late, well past midnight, but my desperation outweighed any consideration for the hour. I approached Elsa’s room, feeling the weight of my hope and dread. Just as I reached her door, a sudden sensation rippled through me—an unmistakable tingle on the side of my neck where Scarlett’s mark was etched into my skin. The mark burned softly, a faint, yearning tug, like the whisper of a long-lost love. A surge of desire washed over me, powerful and sweet, but just as I tried to grasp it, the connection faded, as though something had cut it off.

I shush him and continue with the soft melody. I have not thought of this song for a while, and I find myself getting lost in it as the thunder rattles the castle, and lightning illuminates the loch through the window. It is not until I hear a gentle snore that I stop, startled. Despite the storm outside, Blake is asleep. He’s rolled onto his back, and one of his arms is flung above his head. I take the opportunity to openly look at the angry white scar that marks his forearm near his elbow. It looks like a bite from a very large beast. A wolf, perhaps.

she said, glancing at me, “if you could heal someone that is close to death… maybe you can fix scars too.” The room quieted just a little. I followed her gaze and realized what she was talking about. My scar. The old burn mark that curved down from the corner of my jaw to my neck—a part of my past I had tried to hide but couldn’t erase. I instinctively reached up, fingers brushing the edge of it. I hated that thing. I hated what it reminded me of. Rachael tilted her head. “I’m just saying… wouldn’t it be kind of amazing if you could heal yourself too?”

The pale smile finally faded from his lips, his eyes widening as he looked at the devastation clearing the trail. Marcus sat crouched in the center of the scorched stone, his broad chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged gasps. The silver fire had receded, but the permanent lightning tracks across his flesh were now raised, angry red scars that glowed with a dull, persistent violet light beneath his skin. Elena crawled out from behind the horse, her vision fracturing into sharp white spots as she tried to adjust to the blinding glare. She pulled back Marcus's collar, her breath freezing in her throat as she saw the terrifying toll the explosion had taken on his anatomy.

The four men suddenly looked up in confusion, their sick, lust-drunk brains registering that something was very, very wrong. While they were gawking at the sky, a bolt of lightning arced down over my head, but instead of striking me, it split into four fingers of pure electricity, and connected with each of my attackers. Their bodies went rigid as the lightning streaked through their flesh, using them as conduits to the earth. In the time it took to blink twice, it was already over, their bodies dropped to the ground, lifeless but still spasming. They smelled charred, but only the tops of their heads, where the bolts had entered, and the soles of their feet, where the current had exited, wer

His eyes lifted to my neck again… to the scars. “Those don’t look so terrible anymore, how did they heal so fast?” He asked. My heart slammed against my ribs. “The wolfsbane burned deeper than we thought. Doc said it would scar ugly.” Damon studied the marks for a long time, then he exhaled through his nose, like he was forcing himself to let something go. “Lyra’s mark is clean,” he said, almost to himself. “Perfect outline. Matches what the Goddess’s book should show.”

To him, the scarlet lightning felt less like a deadly threat and more like an old acquaintance dropping by for a visit. This bizarre reaction left the onlookers stunned. Was Adrian mad? The crimson lightning bolts crackled with destructive power. Thunderous explosions shook the sky, their force capable of obliterating anything in their path. Yet Adrian remained composed, unmoved by the chaos around him.