Painted Scars Book Novels & Stories

His face blank. Too blank. Mara’s hands paused for half a breath. Only half. Then she recovered and poured water over a cloth. Good woman. She knew better than to make a wound feel like a spectacle. I did not. Or maybe I did and still could not look away. Because the scars were not ugly in the simple way damage was ugly. They were deliberate. That made them obscene. Someone had taken time with his pain. Someone had planned where to hurt him so it would last.

“The color suits you Maddie, it looks gorgeous on you.” The color did flatter her, but I had to fight back a gulp because the short length of the shorts exposed the scars from her previous years of abuse. “My scars show. That’s why I usually wear things that cover them. People look at me as if I have a disease.” I crossed the room to her and placed my hands on her shoulders. “That life is over. Your scars are going to be your reminder that you are so much stronger than you think. One day you will wear these scars proudly, knowing that they are simply battle wounds from a war that you won.”

Then he accompanied her to the hospital himself to get the wound cleaned up. She'd thought he was overreacting, but he'd just smiled and said, "Lyra, you're the most important woman in my life. I don't want any scars on you—except maybe from having our kids. Smooth skin looks best with beautiful clothes and jewelry." And now, with her face covered in blood, he'd brushed her off to take care of someone else. He once swore she'd never have to bear a scar, but he made her risk her life to donate bone marrow for another woman. Even marriage and kids—he'd planned all that with someone else behind her back.

Jace was gorgeous, it was what startled me when I first saw him; Mesmerizing blue eyes, perfect nose, perfect teeth, jaw that could cut glass… “He’s too pretty. Flawless? I don’t know how to describe it.” I shrugged and cut into my stake. “And you don’t like flawless?” “It feels characterless, like the person doesn’t have a story to tell about their lives or like they haven’t done anything. It’s a bad take, I know, but- For example,” I showed him a scar on my wrist. “I got this three years ago when the kitchen door slammed into my hand. I raised my elbow revealing another scar. food festival; A guy tried to snatch my purse and I refused to let go of the strap. These are the resulting burns.

Ryan raised the chair in his hands, and with a swift motion, brought it down on me, his eyes cold as they met mine. I was paralyzed by the fear in my eyes, unable to move. "Ah!" The pain shot through me like a jolt of electricity, and I couldn't contain the blood-curdling scream that escaped my lips. My fingers were crushed instantly, mangled and bleeding, as I stared at them in disbelief. The physical pain, sharp and intense, barely compared to the crushing weight in my chest.

I held her by the throat tighter as I remembered how I spent over five days in the infirmary because of her and her childish jealousy. "So... Sorry." She managed to say but I brought out my makeshift knife and I tore her with it in the stomach. "Ahhhhhh." She screamed but I carried her towel that was drap over her shoulder and I shoved it in her mouth to muffle her screams. I tore her again on both of her laps. The cuts I gave her are not deep enough to make her bleed to death but the are certainly deep enough to give her an everlasting scar... Whenever she sees the scars on her stomach and thighs, it's will be a reminder of her stupidity.

, 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.

I drank up her body, not able to look away from her jutting collar bones, her smooth neck or her perfect boobs… It was then that I swallowed hard, realising what she was showing me. It wasn't her sexy, dainty body with her gorgeous breasts, it was beyond that. Her skin, from her waist to the band of her jeans, was a canvas of scars, runes and what looked like small burn marks. My chest tightened painfully as she turned to show me her back. My wolf's anger and pain mixed with my own, I stepped back. It was worse than the front. The number of gashes was alarming. Some hadn’t even healed properly, leaving them puffy and raised. Her warm ivory skin was littered with scars of different colours, s

I said through gritted teeth. "Cut ties?" Genevieve let out a cold laugh. She walked over to a safe, opened it, and took out a fine wooden box and a yellowed, worn-out book of sheet music. The moment I saw the music, my breath caught in my throat. It was the Chopin book my mother had left me, filled with her handwritten notes from when she taught me to play. It was the most precious thing she had left me in this world. "Alessia, what do you think would happen if I sold off this jewelry, and then threw this trash into the fireplace and watched it turn to ash…" Genevieve's fingers traced the cover of the book, her eyes glinting with malice.

"You need to apologize to Jake for a second chance. Cassandra was the better choice to begin with anyway. I mean she's classy, gorgeous, richer. She's everything you're not." Something within me broke but I just kept smiling. "You're right." She was shocked once, as if she didn't think I'd agree. I dodged her, went up high, and closed my door before she could speak another sentence. My room was quiet, the quiet which is comfortable, the one that resonates the instant when something fatal starts. I shifted and stood before the mirror and looked. Mascara smudged. Lipstick wiped. The girl in the mirror standing opposite me was a girl broken and recombined with the improper pieces.