Novelas y relatos de Scarred

Saadiya had suffered a cut to her left arm but it wasn't anything serious, Parvina was attending to her. She looked at Omar and tried to steady her heavy breathing, he had ripped off his throbe and now left with a loose and very transparent under shirt which was no longer white but red and it perfectly outlined his very built muscles, his perspiration having soaked through them, Mariam stared at him for a while until he gave her a thumbs up and she blinked rapidly to clear her head. Focus Mariam, she told herself. He smiled at her and she smiled back but he couldn't clearly see her smile from the distance between them because of the cloth that hid her lower face so she nodded.

She watched as he frowned at the button , his chiseled face was like a sculpture, he had thick and roughly carved brows she felt like running her hands on them. He had a well carved beards which had evidence of not been shaved for a while, they where prickly but also tickled wherever his face brushed her arm. The lock of hair that had been on his forehead head was now brushing his eyes, Ann had the strongest urge to brush it from his eyes and indeed they did feel marvelously silky. Oh on! She had touched it, and now he was looking at her. But this time not only did he look frustrated, there was something else, it wasn't there before and it reminded her of the day at the library.

The wound is still here, and I know that it's opening again. I touched the scars on my chest, near my heart. I winced as soon as I felt my scar in my chest. Until no, I still don’t know what really happened, or what caused this wound of mine. School Accident, that's what he told me. I don't know, but I did not believe in him. I was about to go the garden when my phone beeped. … +639********* to Tatiana: Hey. I hope you are doing good. I talked to someone about your condition.

I can’t help but ask, as the marks that seemed to be welted on her skin were so visible, and too severe to be ignored. Scar turned to look down at her body before looking right back at me. “Maybe you should worry about yours first,” she says, her hand motioning towards my body. My brows creased tighter. What was she talking about? I thought when I drop my gaze down my stomach and thighs, I let out a gasp. Shocked, I couldn’t move or say anything until Scar broke her silence. “Those are infidelity marks,” she says, and I look up, blinking at her. “They occur when your mate is being unfaithful. More will appear in the future,”

I felt the weight of his gaze, cold and unreadable. His face was hard, weathered like he’d seen too much. And then I saw it—the scar. It ran jagged from just above his left eyebrow, slashing diagonally down through his eye, and ending at the corner of his lip. The skin around it looked old, healed, but it cut through his expression, twisting his face into something crueler, something that made my stomach tighten with unease.

C H A S E It didn't hurt again. No, it didn’t. In fact, it was completely healed, surely leaving behind its main purpose; a scar, but every time she remembered that night, Sophia could still feel the pain of a scalding hot knife tearing at her skin in form of those five letters. It mentally stung her more and the need to claw on the scar and rip it off gnawed at her mind but that was impossible. It was impossible to rip off something that had become a part of her skin. Warm arms engulfed Sophia in a hug from behind her, before the scent of sandalwood hit her nostrils and she froze in her place. The fingers on the scar froze also. “Do you like it?"

Each scar held a story—a story of struggle, survival, and triumph. Deep admired these marks, not with regret or sorrow, but with a sense of reverence. They were reminders of his journey—a journey that tested his strength and perseverance. They symbolized moments of challenge and resilience, etched into his skin like chapters in a book. With every faded line, he saw a testament to his body's remarkable ability to heal, a silent declaration of overcoming adversity. These scars were symbols of battles fought and won, of hurdles crossed and lessons learned. They were not just marks on his skin; they were emblems of resilience and courage.

“They’ll kill us without a second thought, we shouldn’t let them get away either.” Malric nodded, “He’s right,” he concurred, his smoked-gold eyes suddenly peered at me, “Are you alright?” I nodded, “I’m good.” I hesitated to ask, but I couldn’t help it when I saw a bloody scar on his left arm. “What about you?” He shrugged, “It’s just a scar. Nothing that can’t heal in a couple of hours.” Miguel suddenly chuckled and asked me, “Do you two know each other?” he asked suddenly and my heart froze. “You speak like you’ve met Alpha Malric before, Alruin.”

Rayna. I didn’t want to believe it. Still didn’t. But I’d seen the mark, second time, on her body when her shirt slipped during training - a half-moon scar, pale and jagged, like a bite that never healed. Not fresh. Not recent. Older. Ancient. Primal. And I remembered the seer. Gods, I’d been sixteen. Wild with grief. Fire in my blood. Rage for a father who never returned from battle and a pack fractured in his absence.

Aiden looks like he might be sick, while Jasper and Marcus both look pissed. I turn back to Zahra just as she stands up straight, and I finally see what they’re staring at. Her back is covered in angry red and white scars, crisscrossing into a horrible lattice over her skin. My stomach churns at the sight. I knew her father had hurt her, but this is the first time I’m seeing the damage with my own eyes. I watch the realization dawn in her expression, and the look on her face nearly breaks me. Stepping forward, I try to ease her anxiety, wanting to brush this off for her sake. “Hey, little one. It’s good to see you enjoying yourself after this morning. How are you feeling?”