Peerless Scarred Novels & Stories

Not with the pieces of my heart scattered at my feet. Jake Lawson has taken away everything: my child, my dignity, and my hope, and cast away like trash.

Layla scrambled back in terror, but it was too late. My claws ripped her dress, revealing the pale skin of her back. It was smooth. Flawless. There was no scar. And Myrna... Myrna had a hideous scar running from her left shoulder to her right hip. The scar I had touched a thousand times, but never once asked where it came from. "Moon Goddess," I collapsed. "What have I done?" "You regret it now?" Layla sat on the floor, her eyes filled with malicious glee. "It's too late, Clark. It's far too late."

Still hers. She trailed her fingertips his arm, as the morning light danced over the bruises and healing wounds as if trying to make sense of the pain etched into his skin. Battle scars. Every one of them earned in the fight to get Sophie back. The war might have been over, but peace hadn't yet settled down in her heart. Grayson stirred beside her. "You ever going to stop watching me sleep like a serial killer?" She smiled faintly. "Probably not." He cracked one eye open. "Creepy and sexy. That's very on-brand for you."

The pressure was gentle, but the warning was crystal clear: "Remember why we're partners. It's about destroying the Ferraris, nothing else. Don't go where you don't belong." "I can fake someone's death, but I can also make it real." My breathing hitched for just a moment. Then I smiled and covered his hand with mine. "Of course, Mr. Rosetti. We're the perfect team." He hesitated, then released me: "My private doctor says your scars are treatable. Start preparing—we'll schedule the surgery soon." My eyes lit up. As he headed for the door, I called out: "Your face—why don't you consider getting yours fixed too?"

It took me a few seconds before I hesitantly placed my hand in the crook of his elbow. His arm was solid muscle. I could feel the heat of him even through the fabric, and my heart skipped a beat. The moment we entered the ballroom, the noise died. It was like someone hit a mute button. Dozens of eyes locked onto us like searchlights. Or more accurately, they locked onto his face. Onto Caspian Valerius. The people who came to see the "disfigured monster" were frozen, their faces a mask of shock and disbelief when they saw he was untouched.

Too tempting. Then her gaze moved. Lower. Toward my throat. I frowned slightly before realizing the top buttons of my shirt had come undone during the chaos downstairs. The scar stretched visibly across my collarbone. White against skin. Ugly. A permanent reminder of fire. Lena stared at it silently. I released her wrist immediately and stepped back. Big mistake. Because the look on her face wasn't scary. It was painful. "Who gave you that scar?" she asked quietly. I should've lied. Should've shut the conversation down immediately.

I reached for my oversized, cotton shirt, the one I used as a shield, a comfortable cocoon, but my gaze snagged on my reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back wasn’t the girl who used to cower beneath the weight of her father’s harsh words and Lisa and Chloe's physical assaults. My shoulders were broader now, my posture straighter, a testament to the disciplined workouts I had adopted. My arms, once thin and perpetually bruised, held a quiet strength. The faint ghost of old bruises, once a vibrant tapestry of purple and green, had faded to pale shadows on my skin. They were silent reminders of the torment I had endured, a constant whisper of life I struggled to leave behind. All exce

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.

He strode forward, meeting me halfway, his massive frame looming larger than it had from a distance. Sweat-drenched and imposing, he towered over me, his muscles rippling beneath his skin like a living, breathing entity. A jagged scar sliced across his chest, its edges twisted and raised, giving the impression that it had been carved by some brutal, unforgiving force. His dirty blonde hair clung to his forehead, matted and damp, while his piercing hazel eyes seemed to bore into my very soul.

★★★★★ 4PM* The members had gotten back from Rome unharmed but Scar was an exception. Her arms was still untreated since they didn't take any aid kit with them. "OMG, scar.....Your arm!" Lila exclaimed immediately she set her eyes on her. "It nothing Lila, it just a bullet!" Scar let out a smile. "Let go to the suite. I'll help you treat it!" She offered and scar nodded. "Thanks baby!" Scar smiled hanging her arm around Lila's neck.