Precious Scars Destiny 2 Novels & Stories

"The perfect successor to Project Lazarus." The kitchen tiles were icy under my bare feet as I stood. "You're lying." "Am I?" Saskia set Mara on the counter, the child's legs swinging nervously. "Check her left shoulder blade." The girl's sundress slipped easily off one shoulder. There, in faint silver scars: *D-45*. Just like mine. Jeff's breath hitched. His hand found the small of my back, steadying me as the room tilted. Mara's tiny fingers brushed my cheek. "Mama?"

He lunged forward, trying to grab my hand. I stepped back, avoiding his touch. "Calista, please," his voice was practically a beg. "For the sake of what we had..." He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a deep scar on his wrist. A silver mark, winding like a snake. It would never fade. The scar he got when the mate bond transferred the wound from when I'd sliced my own wrist with a silver dagger. "This scar... I've lived with it for six months," he choked out. "Every day, every night, it reminds me that I almost lost you."

A part of them was positive that this was a trap, but they had already mind-linked the other warriors of the pack. And that was when Destiny picked up the most heavenly scent that she had ever smelled. It was way better than the smell of the food cooked by Liara’s mother. It was a combination of soil after the first rain and lavender. ‘Mate.’ Destiny growled at that scent. Destiny quickly wanted to go near her mate and looked around in search of him, and immediately her eyes met his blood-red eyes. But why was he hidden there? Before she could understand that the warriors who were trying to remove the rock their heads fell on the ground.

His shirtless form, adorned with fresh wounds, speaks of a battle fought and won. "Damian!" I call out, my voice a mixture of relief and concern. I rush to embrace him, my fingers grazing his bloodied skin. "I'm okay, Desiree. I'm okay," he reassures me, his voice soft as he presses his forehead to mine. As I lift my eyes to look at him, I notice someone I hadn't seen before—Sophie. In her hand, she clutches a metal pole, stained with what looks to be blood. "It was the Rosebloods," Damian explains. "They came for me. Sophie, she... I mean, I would have been done for without her."

However, in exchange for a Skystone that could greatly boost his odds of advancing to Planar Realm, it was well worth it. After all, on Visiora, he had no chance of getting a Skystone by normal means. "Are your people ready?" he asked. Scorpia couldn't stop grinning. "Skye!" At her call, Skye Duluth walked in. The stunning woman had an outfit that was little more than a few strips of cloth wrapped around her, just barely covering the essentials. Her flawless skin was boldly on display, and her face radiated seduction. Her eyes alone could steal a man's soul. Even someone like Jacob gave her a second look.

Two of them opened the door for him and he entered. He continued walking at a corridor and looking at his left, right and also his back, maybe nobody was behind him because where he was, was very dangerous and him too know that. He removed his bag from his shoulder as he got to another entrance. Brought out a small knife from his bag, cut his thumb and pasted it with the blood on the finger scanning in the door. A green light blinked out from the door and he removed his hand, the door opened automatically and he entered. Two guys came out as they had saw him on the camera and standing at the front of the door.

Said Sekora angrily, then she opened the door letting D2 back in. “Look, the necklace is a replica of my birth mark.” Said Sekora, taking the necklace off and showing it to her. “I told you it was your destiny to be the Sword Keeper.” She said sitting back on the bed. “What makes you think I want this supposed destiny of mine?” asked Sekora, hotly as she shut the door behind her. “Unfortunately for you, you don’t have a choice.” Replied Dejon. That is not just a mark at all you see, when Sekora was six, her mom told her of a special necklace that did amazing things and drew it on Sekora with special permanent ink as a reminder that she was a special girl.

"That means, the woman in that depiction... Is my grandmother?" Tyler nodded... "So, that's what describes the relics." She murmured. "What relic?" He asked. And Scarlett then told him about her mother's relics. He then informed her that, There were two sets of relics their mother left for them. One was for Scar's mother which she has taken away before leaving. And the other one was for his wife. However, he never got married so it was still with him. Both again turned silent. As Scar was processing the sudden pieces of information, Tyler spoke. "You said, your company is redesigning the legendary perfume, right?"

In the small, quiet room, as his trembling hands undid the first button of my dress. Caleb froze. My body was covered in a network of scars, old and new. There were bruises from combat training, and purple marks that spoke of the countless times Lydia's followers had ganged up on me. There were burn scars from silver weapons, silvery white tracks snaking across my ribs. There were marks from energy blasts, the eternal sigils left when a wolf's spirit is damaged. And... the claw marks he himself had left. The deep scratches were a reminder of every "punishment" he had dealt me.

he commanded, turning slightly, his broad frame silhouetted against the moonlit peaks. The heavy door creaked open, and Jada guided Scarlett inside, her silver hair loose and cascading over the sheer silk gown, its transparency barely concealing the bandages on her claw-torn shoulder, side, and the bruises on her hand, her eyes glinting with defiance despite the pain. Jada bowed and retreated, the door thudding shut, sealing Scarlett in the Lycan’s domain. The air thickened, firelight dancing on her blood-stained bandages, as Winter’s gaze locked onto her.