Peerless Scarred Novels & Stories

Scarred. "What the hell happened to you?"

When I opened them again, my breath caught as he jerked me forward, his claws were dangerously piercing into my scalp. Another scar I knew would never fade away. Scar that would haunt me for as long as I lived. Then he released me and I crashed into the dirty muds. His gaze fixed on my collapsed form, sting with something intense… something dark. A promise that this wasn't over. This nightmare was only the beginning. But… for what exactly? I couldn’t yet tell, not until it all began to make sense.

And I was happy to be his, to be possessed by him, body and soul. I couldn't help but gasp as Dmitri removed his shirt, exposing his tanned, well-built figure. My eyes were drawn to the scar on his chest, a jagged line that seemed to mar the perfection of his skin. I knew that Dmitri hated that scar, that he saw it as a flaw, a reminder of his past. But to me, it was beautiful. It was a testament to Dmitri's strength, to his ability to overcome adversity. And I wanted to worship him, to show Dmitri that I saw him as perfect, scar and all.

Your encouragement gave me strength, motivation, and purpose. Scarred Under Moonlight became more than just a novel. It became a shared experience, one built on emotion, connection, and trust. Together, we explored love, loss, resilience, and healing. Together, we watched as characters grew, stumbled, rose, and finally found peace. That shared experience is something I will always treasure.

"If saying a couple of words to her makes me vicious, what about everything you did to Shirley? Doesn't that make you 100 times worse?" She pointed at Nicole and laughed until tears welled up in her eyes. "Look at her. She has rosy cheeks and doesn't look sick at all, yet the Shirley you call vicious was skin and bones when she died. She didn't even have enough money to cover emergency treatment when she bled out." "That's a lie!" Devin shot back without a second thought. "We never took away Shirley's cards, even when we were punishing her." He sounded completely certain, but I could see his hands shaking uncontrollably. Even a flicker of complicated emotion flashed in Scott's eyes.

We had dreams, plans for a future that were brutally ripped away by the Rossi family. The memory of her death was still vivid, as if it happened yesterday. The way she looked at me with those wide, terrified eyes as they took her away. The blood, the screams. The feeling of helplessness that gnawed at my soul. And then, the scar. I reached up, tracing the jagged line that ran down my side, a permanent reminder of the last altercation with the Rossis. The scar was a souvenir from that night, a parting gift from the bastards who took Noelle from me.

"And they failed. But the wound... it never fades. It burns, even now." I pulled my hand back, almost recoiling from the intensity of it. Heat, pain, history-it all radiated from that scar like a living breathing entity. Shame and fear twisted together in my chest. This was no injury I could tend with clean sutures or antiseptic; this was a brand, a mark of war that belonged to a world beyond my quiet peaceful world He leaned back slightly, the sheet slipping with the movement, revealing the powerful sweep of his chest yet again. Even in vulnerability, he was stunning-too perfect, carved from legends and nightmares. The scar, cruel and vicious to me only seemed to heighten his unearthly allu

“Rue, do not make fun of me.” “I am not making fun of you,” I said. “I am reminding you that you are still handsome even when you look awkward.” Percy looked away. His fingers moved close to the scars on his arm. I reached for his hand before he could hide them. “Do not look at them like that,” I said. He became quiet. “They are not pleasant to look at.” “They are part of you,” I said. “Some came from old injuries. Some came from the blood pact backlash. Some came because you suffered too much alone. I hate that you were hurt, but I do not hate your scars.”

Lenore whispered. She was trembling as her eyes landed on her scar scattered back. Her back was almost completely covered in scars. They were all in various stages of healing. Some are still bright pink, others the color of her skin. Her back told a story of horror. Flashes of her step mother yelling about food being overcooked or undercooked; even though they were. Items going missing and mysteriously returning. Items breaking she was not ever involved. It was all just a punishment because she never belonged there. Tears slipped out of her eyes, her mouth trembling as it tried to hold back her cry. She didn't know seeing the scars would make her feel this way. How could anyone want to look

I looked at his retreating back wondering since when did he become so heartless. --------------------------------------------------- "Take these medicine for 1 week and the inflammation will be gone. But these marks will remain...." The doctor said looking sadly at me but I didn't cared. These scars were nothing compared to the scars on my soul. Andrea was still sitting with me talking to the doctor "I am really sorry ma'am" I said referring to the burn on her hand "It's alright they will heal but yours may not.....I will get you a special scars medicine ..it definitely works...don't worry they will vanish with time'