Novel & Cerita Precious Scars

"Oh no I am hideous, all the scars I have, such a terrible sight." "Your scars are beautiful." "Even the one across my face?" Prince Mangus asked. "Especially the one across your face." They smiled faintly to each other. "Scars are reminders of not what you have been through but you have overcome so you are just a wonder of a sight." "Wow, you are so nice, I guess it really was just me bringing out the hostility in you," he said and they chuckled. "I did say that," she said and they chuckled on.

I lifted my gaze to him, demanding an answer for his actions. “Scars set you apart from everyone else. They don’t ruin your identity; they give you a unique identity. I will make you fall in love with everything about yourself like I do. I will kiss your scars so many times that when you see them — the first thing that comes to your mind is not the scar, but our memories they hold. I will leave my permanent marks in your mind — in your memories. So that before you say you love me, you can proudly say you love yourself more.”

" I bit my lip, unable to help but feel hurt as I looked at him. I'm sure he has major insecurities because of the scars on his face. But I won't distance myself; I won't stop my plans to get him back. These scars symbolize his true love for me and our children. If not for Yohan, the triplets and I might not have been saved, and I might have been caught in the explosion back then. "Yohan, do you know where you got these scars?" I asked him, looking at his mask and the scar on his neck that extended from his cheek to his chest. I saw him furrow his brow as he looked at me. "Where?" he asked. I smiled and gently caressed his cheek. "You got them while you were saving us, your children and me.

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.

The scar is a container and a protective space where the memory can be stored and endured privately. The causes of scars remain in storage in the body and the mind, and sometimes can shape actions for a person’s entire life. That's what Beneath The Scars is going to talk about . It's going to talk about how to never give up without a fight. W A R N I N G The book contains scenes of self-harm, mentions of abuse and suicide, themes of grief and depression, and sexual content towards the first half of the book . Readers are requested to proceed with caution. Please skip if you see any scene that you may find triggering.

She trembled. Not from fear. From the weight of being seen. I kissed the worst of it. The scar cut across her ribs. The one that dipped over her hip like a cruel signature. The one just beneath her collarbone that she always covered with her hair. I kissed them like they were sacred. Because to me, they were. Each one was proof that she’d survived. And everything about her was beautiful. Not despite the scars. But because of them. Because of the way she stood in her pain. Because of the way she loved quietly, like someone who’d learned how fragile the world could be. Because she let me in—even if just a little—even when she was terrified.

I couldn’t even lie about not enjoying that night. The way his hands were as delicate as the wind… while he caressed me and made me feel loved and treasured in ways I could never anticipate, I do not know what to do anymore. The memory of his touch lingered on my skin, a phantom sensation that both comforted and terrified me. His fingers had traced patterns of tenderness, each stroke full of intimacy that I had never known before. I felt cherished in those moments, his gentle touch deliberately defying the harsh reality I often faced at work. It was as if the barriers between us had melted away, leaving only raw, unfiltered emotion in their wake.

I eye her suspiciously at her sudden formality, and I wonder if Liam is inside. “Well...” She falters. “You look beautiful, by the way.” I blurt out and realize that I have been looking up and down her body with a smirk. Her cheeks turn bright red, and she breaks eye contact. “Thank you,” she whispers. “But I have scars.” “I know, and they look new, but scars tell stories.” I stare at them, and I wince, while thinking about how she might have had a traumatic experience during our day and night at Carkeek Park. “And I’m curious to know how you got them.” I continue.

Silver burn scars crisscrossed the skin there—evidence of my attempts to end my suffering in the containment facility. "Did you suffer there?" he asked softly, his fingers lightly tracing the scars. The unexpected tenderness in his touch made my legs give out. I sank to the floor, my wolf whimpering as I kept my eyes fixed on the ground. "Suffering is relative," I whispered. "Inside or outside those walls... it's all different levels of the same hell." James crouched beside me, his wolf's dominance carefully controlled. "These scars," he said, gesturing to my wrists. "They can be removed with specialized pack healing treatments."

"Sorry, did I scare you? I promise, you'll never see scum like that around here again." To thank him, I accepted his invitation to an art exhibition at his private estate that weekend. On Saturday night, Dorian had a gift box delivered. Inside was a deep purple velvet gown. It was exquisitely tailored, with a high neck and long sleeves that perfectly concealed the old, fading scars on my body, while still accentuating my waist. I stroked the soft fabric, my eyes welling up. Gavin had traced my scars with sadness, but he was never this thoughtful. I never dared tell him how much they bothered me. It was a weakness the Godfather’s wife wasn't allowed to have.