Painted Scars Neva Altaj Novels & Stories

There was a tornado sweeping over everyone and I made a shade over my eyes with my palm. I squinted, desperately looking for Alruin and I found him right in the middle of the storm. My eyes searched for Chase and the others, but I saw Marla and Priscilla, forming a protective shield against Alruin. Priscilla’s eyes met mine and hers glowed mischievously. She glanced one more time at Alruin, whose eyes were completely white now, and grinned.

Poppy gently pulls me to a chair. “Such pretty hair,” she mutters as she starts working with it. She is gentle and doesn’t pull on it. She puts my hair into a simple updo bun. It is not slick, but still curly. I like it because it's simple. “Alright, makeup.” She gets in front of me. “I’ll keep it simple and clean. Just enhance your natural beauty.” “Natural beauty? With these scars?” “These are an indication of what you’ve survived. They mean you’re a warrior. I have my own scars, and I never cover them. I wear them with pride because I overcame it all. You should too,” she says.

Only I know how these looks of pity feel . No one knows....you may call scars beautiful but you know the one who actually has them. Knows deep somewhere in their heart, how ugly they look. Something which was so perfect, something so flawless that every one envied it. Was now just an object of pity. The skin which was perfect once, is tarnished now. And you know the worst part? No matter what you do. It will never....be like it was before. What's lost can never return. Sulking ,she didn't realised when the sun was down from the horizon and it was dark.

**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.

The Adversary Dark Prince (POV) When people notice the jagged scar on my arm, their eyes often widen with worry, and they jump to conclusions that are far from the truth. It's a common reaction, especially in a world where scars usually hint at pain or violence. But this scar tells a different story—it's not a sign of suffering; it's a symbol of something beautiful and meaningful in my life. Each curve and line of the scar represents resilience and a deep bond that has lasted through challenges, showing that not all scars are reminders of hurt. Instead, it reminds me of love and the strength I've gained along my journey.

High-tier Alphas bore thousands of scars from the northern hockey tournaments and border skirmishes; a bite mark on the right shoulder was nothing more than a common battle trace. It couldn't be him. The universe wasn't that cruel. I forced myself into the adjoining stone washroom, turning the cold brass taps until the freezing mountain water washed the scent of his cedar and ozone from my skin. I changed into a clean, simple wool shift, carefully re-wrapping the linen bandages around my torn knee before forcing my features into a mask of absolute neutrality. Upstairs, Kaelen remained seated on the edge of the furs, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose as his internal monologue fought

she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I took a deep breath, my fingers trembling as I reached for the hem of her sweater. Slowly, with a gentleness that belied my anxiety, I lifted it, revealing the expanse of her back. It was a tapestry of torment, a brutal testament to pain she had endured. Unhealed scars crisscrossed her skin in a chaotic pattern, like a road map drawn by a hand driven by cruelty. They were no longer the angry red of fresh wounds, but had faded to a lighter shade, standing in stark contrast to her otherwise unblemished skin. The violent pattern they formed was chaotic, as if the whip had danced across her back with a reckless disregard for the pain it inflicted.

"Why is she not awake and tell me about this bandages all over her?" The pack doctor step back and took a deep breath while Beta Alex move to see Nelika lying on the bed. "The bandages would help with the healing that includes the scars as I don't want her to endure it for a longer period of time. However she has an Alpha blood and all of it will vanished after a few weeks time." I let her words sink in and close my eyes for a second to calm my nerves, I was worried to the core that looking at the pack doctor made me wanna throw her out of the window.

Dale’s POV Amber’s body was a map of wounds, bruises, and scars. The horrified expression on Janine’s face confirmed just how bad I thought it was. The scars did not look like they had been treated by a professional, and so they did not heal correctly. I glanced at Janine, whose eyes were settled on me. She knew I was struggling to hold my wolf together, and I could see her readying herself to hold me back if it came to it.

Halle and the doctor had refused to let me look at it. Unbuttoning the shirt, I peer at my reflection. The ugly, red, jagged scar ran from the bottom of my neck down to my belly button. It was thick and raised and still sore. I wouldn’t be able to wear a bra until it had settled down. It could take weeks because wolfsbane was used. “You are still beautiful.” Alpha Colt makes me jump and I quickly pull my shirt around me. “I locked the door!” “The lock doesn’t work. Does it hurt?”