Oliver Stark Scar Novels & Stories

Cas asked. “He looks different from the pictures. And I like you more,” Rose admitted, burying her head in his chest. “He’s scary, Daddy Cas.” Oliver did look different. Not just his missing hand. There was a burn scar on his neck, wires everywhere, and bandages across his body. He couldn't sit up yet; the only reason he was slightly seated was because they must have raised the bed. There were IV bags attached and machines that were beeping. He had a catheter, and he hadn’t showered or bathed in days. He looked like he probably felt. Oliver was in pain, and he would be for a while.

It spilled out uncontrollable, wild, making the air around him feel heavy and wrong. He reached up with both hands and pulled back his hoodie, finally revealing his face. Owen's breath caught. Even from where he lay on the ground, he could see the scar. It was massive, a jagged line that ran from Korran's forehead down across his face, cutting through one eye and ending somewhere near his jaw. But it was his eyes that were truly disturbing. They were different colors, mismatched in a way that shouldn't have been possible. One glowed golden, bright and metallic, while the other was a strange reddish-brown, like old dried blood.

“It was rude of me to stare. But yes, I am here for work.” Elara’s expression softened, and she nodded. “You may be surprised to learn that my scars are a symbol of my strength, Miss Rogers.” She ran a finger along the length of her neck, staring into space. “This scar is a reminder of everything I’ve overcome to get to where I am today.” I swallowed hard.

A tall man with a scar across his face entered, cold eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of Olivia atop the chair, her hands still on the bars. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled, low and menacing. And before Olivia could answer, he plunged into her, clutching at her arm and yanking her down with all his strength. The sudden impact sent a sharp ache up the side of her body as she hit the ground so unyieldingly. "You think you can escape?" he sneered, yanking her to her feet. "Not on my watch." She kicked and squirmed, but he was holding her tight in an iron grip. Then he yanked her

Concern etched across my face, I reached out, gently examining the bandaged wound. "Adolph, how is your hand feeling?" I asked, my voice filled with genuine concern. He offered me a warm smile, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you for taking care of it, Scarlett. The pain is bearable, and your efforts have helped it heal." Relieved to hear that he wasn't in excessive pain, I nodded, a sense of reassurance flooding my heart. My thoughts turned to the events that had unfolded, the danger that lurked within the palace walls.

He appeared to be tired of talking to her when he knew she wouldn't listen to him so he just carried on like he didn't hear the things Doctor Owen said. He had removed his shirt—was checking his own injuries in the mirror. And Annie saw them all at once. The scar on his arm from when he walked into that fire to stop her from burning the house down weeks ago, to save her from killing Adam. The wound was healed now but the scar remained—a permanent reminder of her lack of control. The stab wound in his side was from the warehouse fight with Tommy. Still bandaged and healing. Still causing him pain. And now, fresh bruises blooming across his ribs where Eliana's magic had slammed him on the grou

She immediately released her hold on his bare torso, the remnants of sleep fading from her system. Olivia had never seen him naked before. This was her first time. She tried hard to look away, but she couldn't help but survey his body. The word "beautiful" wasn't typically used to describe a man, but at that moment, as Olivia gazed at him, it was the only word that came to her mind. He was beautiful in a way that transcended typical standards. He was beautiful despite the scars. In fact, he had countless scars tracing along his skin, but it was the bullet scar near his heart that made her pause. It was deeper than she had thought.

**Elara Falls Ill** The once-bustling den of the pack, a place of laughter and camaraderie, had transformed into a sanctuary of despair, shrouded in a somber stillness that was almost palpable. In the heart of this space, nestled among the softest of grasses and verdant leaves, lay Elara, the pack's esteemed healer—her presence a calming beacon now muted by the grasp of illness. A heavy silence enveloped the den, punctuated only by her shallow, labored breaths and the anxious shuffling of her companions, Caden and Lily, who were desperately trying to provide solace during this harrowing time.

Holy God. “How is it, doll?” Slowly, she opened the door. Nigel was standing there, looking anxious, but when he saw her, his face changed completely. “Olivia,” he breathed. “Oh, my God. Sweetheart.” “I know,” she said. “I – I don’t believe it.” The tears were back. “All I see is – me.” “The scar?” “I know it’s there. I mean, I see it now. But I didn’t at first, not for the first minute.”

"How dare you scare me like that?" Agnes has her chin on his shoulder. Hearing him say those words, without knowing whether it was true or not, she bit her lips again and closed her eyes tightly. It's him. It's Leon. — CHAPTER THIRTEEN: A Cold Dark Scary Place — In a dark, still and quiet room, a lone body of a female human was lying on the damp floor. On her forehead, there was a trail of blood that dried over time. Her face was pale, and if you can't see her chest going up and down, you would mistake her as dead.