Novelas y relatos de Scarred

BRIDGET The pair of blue eyes staring back at me from the mirror was glassy with shock and grief. Tears slid down my cheeks, tracing the long scar that ran from beneath my right eye to the edge of my jaw. I didn’t bother to wipe them away anymore. My trembling hand brushed against the matching wound along my back. Stitched, yes, but the doctor’s work couldn’t erase the evidence. What Gabe had done to me would never fade. The marks of his fury were carved into my skin, branded into me, etched there for eternity by the man I loved.

the doctor said. “Well, what is it?” I demanded impatiently. “The wound was a fatal wound. She could have bled to death. Because of that, the wound will scar,” the doctor stated. “And?” I asked. “And there is a strong potential that if someone were to try and mark the young woman, it may not take because of the scarring,” she shared.

Not with the pieces of my heart scattered at my feet. Jake Lawson has taken away everything: my child, my dignity, and my hope, and cast away like trash.

Please let me not have imagined that look, that scent, that pull that has never gone away no matter how hard I tried to bury it. My snout brushes warm skin and my stomach twists violently. I hesitate. Just for a second. Fear grips me hard enough that my paws feel unsteady, because once I see it, I cannot unsee it. Once I know, there is no taking it back. Either this shatters me or it holds me together, and I am suddenly terrified of both outcomes. I shove the shirt higher. And then I see it. The scar. Jagged and faded, pale against his ribs, old and unmistakable. A bullet wound that never healed right, twisted slightly like the memory of pain refused to fade completely. A mark burned into my

My breath caught in my throat. Sprawled across his sculpted left chest, directly over his heart, was a terrifying, jagged scar. The skin was ruined, discolored a sickening, unnatural charcoal black, as if a blade dipped in pure shadow magic had carved deeply into his flesh and permanently poisoned the skin beneath.

He unbuttons his black leather tunic and shoves the heavy material aside, exposing his bare chest. Zanele’s laughter dies instantly in her throat. Her eyes widen in absolute horror. Stretching from his left shoulder, down across his ribs, and carving deep into his abdomen was a horrifying, raised scar of blackened flesh—the permanent, unhealable mark of a Bloodmoon Fire penalty, where the skin had been burned straight to the bone.

"Thank you. That wasn't difficult, was it?" He looked away, she continued cleaning the wound, for several minutes, the only sounds were the crackling fire and Kael's uneven breathing, then she noticed something, an old scar ran beneath his right ribs, partly hidden by the fresh injury, it was long and irregular, the kind of scar left by a serious wound ,Seraphina paused. "What's this?" Kael looked down, his expression changed. "Nothing." "That is a scar." "Excellent observation." "How did you get it?"

When I catch my wife, Megan Fisher, cheating with my best friend, my severe depression drives me to the rooftop. My best friend, Alan Smith, is so remorseful that he slashes his face with a knife and leaves the country. To put me at ease, Megan puts a tracking device on herself and hands over her phone whenever she comes home. Whenever she leaves the house, even if it's just for five minutes, she will video call me to tell me where she is. That goes on until Megan becomes pregnant for the second time. While I set up Megan's prenatal records at the hospital, I receive a video call from myself—ten years in the future. The man on the screen looks as gaunt as a ghost, making my heart trembl

He took a box beside the stuffed toy. “This is the ring that I bought after finishing an assignment in Sibayan. I still remember how it brought me excitement and joy when I purchased it.” His eyes were smiling as he reminisced the scene. He carefully opened the small box, there revealed a yellow gold ring adorned with a fully grown flower situated in the middle. It was so pretty. It matches perfectly to a young woman like her. “I have no idea that I couldn't give this to you. Instead, this is what I recieved.” Her orbs stared at a certain scar engraved on his arm. It was a long mark. A very apparent one at that. Just as she thought, written on his arm was her name. “But I'm here, Miguel. Yo

’ Irving rolled his eyes at me. Everything about her is perfect. Even the scar she tried to cover. Few werewolves have scars. We heal too quickly unless the injury was from silver or laced with wolfsbane. Otherwise, scars from before our first shift will remain with us forever. And to werewolves, scars showed strength. They show that you survived. And my mate is strong and has survived so much.