Painted Scars Neva Altaj Novels & Stories

', Brodie's feet moved closer without him noticing. Soon, he was saw her. Talia was facing away from the steady flow of water raining down on her. Her eyes were closed tight, her brow furrowed. Tears mixed with the water, Brodie could smell the saltiness from them. He looked at her more closely. She was tiny and delicate, her skin smooth and creamy, except from a faded scar that ran along her right hip. Wolves didn't tend to be left with scars unless the injury was sustained before their accelerated healing had kicked in or the weapon used was silver or permeated with wolfsbane.

Alisa~ I returned the beta's room just as he had ordered. I closed the door behind me. I was startled by tht sight that awaited me. The beta had his back to me, looking out the window. His bare back was on full display, and across it was a long, diagonal scar that split his skin, jagged and cruel. It was so deep, so raw despite being healed, that it almost seemed as though it had been carved into him with the intent to leave a permanent reminder.

[ALINA’S POV] As I stood in front of the mirror, the reflection staring back at me was one I had long since accepted but still couldn't quite get used to. My face was scarred, the marks running across my skin a reminder of my past—of what I had endured and survived. I ran a finger lightly over the jagged edges, tracing them with a quiet reverence, because despite everything, I didn’t regret the incident that had caused them. The pain had led me to Rowan, my fated mate, and for that, I would never wish it away.

And they prohibited most of the abilities that make me a demon from usage. I nickname the man Jerk, although my clairvoyance told me he is a regular human nicknamed Jackal. I don’t know what business he has with Scarlet, but she is allowing him to flip up her skirt under the covered table, which I can see from the table behind. His left-hand glides down her skirt and feels her bare bottom. She is wearing a lacy thong that matches her bra and while seeing the lace gives me a reaction; I am jealous that someone else, instead of me, has his dirty fingers touching her intimate parts.

Dear baby bird Dear sparrow You look alot like me when I lost my wings Dear baby bird don't be discouraged maybe freedom doesn't come in touching the sky Chorus You can fly in the ocean You can soar in your soul you don't need wings to feel free Dear baby bird Dear sparrow Don't feel pressure I know you just wanted to heal Dear sparrow Just hush now may be freedom comes when We don't need to make a sound You can fly and the ocean You can soar in your soul You don't need wings to feel free I know you can fly Dear sparrow Dear baby bird Dear sparrow You look a lot like me When I lost my wings " Scars to your beautiful " by Alessia Cara She just wants to be beautiful She goes unnoticed, she kno

He sounded almost growly, and it was obvious he was having a hard time maintaining control. She rather liked that, but she knew they had to deal with the full extent of her scars first. “You haven’t seen everything.” She licked her lips, which were unexpectedly dry despite the warm, humid air, and she pointed to her chest. He seemed poised to argue with her, but his gaze followed the line of scars down her neck and across her shoulder. They were concentrated mostly on the left side and crept down her chest, particularly marring her left areola and nipple. Part of her right breast was scarred as well, though the nipple remained uninjured. He looked so sad for her, but it didn’t seem to be a l

The alpine air was sharp and quiet the next morning, as if the mountains themselves held their breath. Elena stood on the edge of the cliff behind the safehouse, staring out over the valley blanketed in pristine snow. The wind tugged at her coat and hair, but she didn’t move. She held the photo of Lucian Monroe in one hand, the edges already worn from handling it all night. She’d memorized every scar on his face, every shadow in his eyes. The same eyes her brother had once shared with her—before everything was taken.

It was normally cluttered with her skincare products, jewelry boxes, and a few framed photos of them together. Now, the surface was completely bare. No, not completely. In the center of the polished wood sat a photograph and a folded piece of white paper. Dante picked up the photo, and his pupils contracted. It was a close-up of Alessia's collarbone. Where the Moretti family crest had been, there was now only a faint, white scar. The tattoo had been completely removed. The skin had healed, but the scar was a silent declaration—Dante Moretti had been permanently erased from her body.

She was the kind of person to pay kindness for evil. After Nadia laid Riona gently on the bed to sleep, she turned around and found Anatoly groaning in pain as he was taking off his shirt. When he took off his shirt, his scars and bruises became very visible to her. His back still had the fresh slash marks that seemed like claws. His arms also had marks and bruises.

every label came with a bloody rumor. In a brutal firefight, half his face had been burned, and he had since retreated into the shadows, his methods becoming even more savage. I only found one photo of him, his profile half-hidden in shadow. The man in the picture had a jawline as sharp as a knife and eyes so dark they could swallow you whole. I opened the marriage contract again. It was for a term of three years. If I could just survive three years with this monster, I could get my mother's things back and finally be free.