Precious Scars Destiny 2 Novels & Stories

The glow that was just coming out of her eyes was now oozing out of every pore making her look like a purple goddess. The girl kept staring at the ceiling for a while before the phone started ringing and everything returned to normal as if nothing happened. ~DESTINY LAND~ “Sister, did you see that? Scarlet was all purple. Does that mean…!” Choice looked at her sister hoping for the answer she was having difficulty finding out right now. Destiny just nodded announcing, “RAGNARA…I hope that doesn’t mess up anything. Things aren’t going to get smoother in the coming future, Choice.” Both the sisters watched Scarlet sleep soundly after having the phonic conversation, while Destiny was the one wh

Scar folds her arms and turns away, glaring out of the window when she is not even sure what she’s upset about, “I’m just worried about our deal.” Silco's lips curve up, and his eyes are light gentle, and caring, but right before Scar turns around to peek at him he looks away and hides that moment of his true self-- “Speaking of our deal,” Silco opens his suitcase at foot, pulling out a black invitation card with golden edges, “I bear a gift for you.” The curious new toy successfully made Scar put the little moment at the back of her mind, “What’s this? HA?” On the front are two gilded words: Heritage Auctions.

I followed closely, my scar burning with every step closer to the artifact. The echoes of distant battles reached us, muted but ever-present. Our allies were fighting above, buying us the time we needed to reach the artifact. Time we couldn’t afford to waste. “Darius, how much farther do you think?” Aria’s voice was quiet, but the tension in it was unmistakable. I closed my eyes briefly, focusing on the pull of my scar. It wasn’t just a mark anymore—it was a tether to the cursed relic, a painful reminder of the price I’d already paid. “It’s close,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Too close.”

In the end, Damien gave in, utterly defeated. He decided to personally cleanse my body, the last act he could perform for me as my Vow-mate. In the small cottage, as he tremblingly undid the first button of my dress, Damien froze. My body was covered in a tapestry of old and new wounds. There were burns from hunter attacks, silvery scars that told the story of countless ambushes orchestrated by Isabella. There were scars from the vervain poisoning, deep purple marks snaking across my ribs like serpents.

, 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.

He could remember every curve, every beautiful stretch mark she tried so hard to cover, every beauty mark that blessed her soft skin. He could recite every tattoo that marked her so powerfully like he'd been studying them for years. Scar relished the idea of the flawed, but yet so perfect, physique that lingered in his mind day in and day out. He wanted to replay the memories over and over and pretend that when he woke from them, she'd be laying beside him like after their beautiful night together. Scar could feel his mouth twitch at the recollection of the sounds that left her mouth like sweet music as he pleasured her as he had no woman before her. The reminiscence of how her body had lift

She was like a little, naive angel and he wanted to be her devil against the world. When she was talking excitedly her dupatta slid for a little revealing her smooth and flawless neck but that's not what caught his attention. There was a big scar on her untainted beauty and when he registered what it was his jaw set firm and his eyes darkened. His eyes were stuck at the same spot where her crimson red blood started to dry up and a bite mark was announcing its disgusting presence. "Ye kya hai, bacche?" He asked her even if he knew very well what it was and all he could see was red but her comfort comes first for him so he tried to compose himself.

"always, but I'll be fine." We start walking home. The sun is low, shadows stretching alon the sidewalk. Mathias jumps over the cracks in the pavement like it's a game. Me, I just want to lie down right there on the concrete and not move anymore. My stomach growls. I barely ate this morning, but there are still three days before payday, and what's left has to be for them. Elhoïme gives me a worried look. "you're bleeding" I look down. My arm is scraped- probably from work, a badly lifted box. I hadn't even noticed.

Poppy gently pulls me to a chair. “Such pretty hair,” she mutters as she starts working with it. She is gentle and doesn’t pull on it. She puts my hair into a simple updo bun. It is not slick, but still curly. I like it because it's simple. “Alright, makeup.” She gets in front of me. “I’ll keep it simple and clean. Just enhance your natural beauty.” “Natural beauty? With these scars?” “These are an indication of what you’ve survived. They mean you’re a warrior. I have my own scars, and I never cover them. I wear them with pride because I overcame it all. You should too,” she says.

Eros I opened my eyes and saw blood on my hands. The blood was all over my body. I looked everywhere and saw glass shards, smoke and people looking at me with shock evident on their faces, some even had worry. I looked at myself through one of the shattered glass and screamed out of shock. It was not me. Blood and wounds all over my face. My beauty….it's gone.