Painted Scars Mga Nobela at Kwento

I watched, my eyes narrowing, as he held his arms out toward me. My breath hitched. His skin was ruined. From his wrists all the way up to his forearms, his flesh was covered in a frightening web of scars. There were deep, jagged lines, discolored patches, and dozens of circular puncture marks. They were injection scars, overlapping one another, telling a story of years of brutal, desperate experimentation.

"What, is Mom not as important as some junk locket? You know what happens if her condition worsens." "I know." I cut him off, my voice cracking as I crouched on the floor. "No one knows better than me when she loses it." My old scars burned as I recalled it. Like a volatile child, she'd speak kindly one moment, and the next, brand me with a hot poker. The smell of scorched flesh haunted my nightmares. Andre fell silent, knowing how diligently I had cared for Evelyn, but a moment later, he hardened again. "I got it, you don't want her to get better."

Tears stained his cheeks. “Yes, it’s me. Please, I know you hated my people but know that I have nothing to do with them. They tried to kill me too. I tried to save Asher and Zara but they dragged me away. They tortured me.” He held out his arm that has an ugly burned scar around it. Eve’s gazed soften.

, 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.

The skin is raised and jagged, a stark pink against his tanned skin. And they still hurt him. When I brush my fingertips over them, he tenses beneath my touch and bares his teeth. It’s not a physical pain. These scars have long healed. But they’re like icebergs. They’re unmistakable and imposing on the outside, but beneath the surface is something much bigger and threatening. Something capable of sinking someone to the pits of their depravity, just like the Titanic. He went through hell in that facility. The scars on his body tell part of the tales he doesn't.

The white sand drifted away. Beneath the white sand, the appearance of Pearlyn's arm became visible. "I..." As soon as she saw the state of her arm, Pearlyn's body trembled, her pupils rapidly contracting. She froze in place. What she saw was: On her arm, where the blood-stained scars had once been, the area where she applied the White Glycoside Cream had become completely smooth! The once terrifying scars had disappeared without a trace! Although there were still some faint white marks where the scars used to be, these marks were almost impossible to see unless one looked very closely!

It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room. His back… it wasn’t just scarred. It was destroyed. From the powerful swell of his shoulders down to the waistband of his pants, his skin was a landscape of ruin. Long, jagged scars crisscrossed every inch of skin. Some were thin and silver, others thick and raised, like ropes of tissue. There were burns, too—circular marks that looked like cigarette ends. Whip marks. Knife cuts. Places where skin had been torn away and grown back wrong.

I forgot. Miss, whoever she is, looked at me shockingly but there's a hint of familiarity and sadness in her eyes. As I stared at her, I realized she really looked so weird and no offense, ugly. There's a huge birthmark that covered her left forehead, down to her eye and her ear. There's also a huge mole on the lower right side of her mouth. To top everything off, she has a lot of pimples, acne scars and blackheads. This girl needs help.

I question as she shows me a feeble smile. I seize one of her wrists, moving it from her intimate area as she tries to fight me from seeing her skin. I can see why. Deep pink and white scars mar her inner thigh. She finally surrenders and I see what caused these. Claw marks forcing her legs apart. I kiss and lick each one as my wolf presses forward, releasing some of our healing into the saliva. It won’t remove the memories or the pain, but at least she doesn’t have the constant reminder etched on her flesh. I see the mark fade as I repeat on each single scar that covers her thighs.

"Shouldn't you say something else?" "Should I?" He patted his hair as he looked at her with a tilted smile. "Take a bath and I'll help you with your injuries." She said. "Imogen would heal it overtime." He said. "But there'll be scars..you shouldn't leave scars all over your body." She shook her head. "Scars are a mark of victories." "Not today's scars." She moved closer to him, "These are marks of distraction." She whispered and raisedd her brows, her eyes brightening like the sun. Xandros's expression darkened as he stared at her.