Scarred Mga Nobela at Kwento

You are not…and I wonder why that is so. He turns around in the tub to look at me, qwondering if I understood what he's said. I do. I shake my head in disbelief. "A scars nuna karfin zuciya da kuma jimiri ne dagamatasa shekaru. Ban ce muku ya kamata a masanan basu ji dadin a gare su." (The scars show bravery and endurance from a young age. I don't think you should be disappointed in them.)

『.*+ •ᴄʜᴀᴘ. ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ+ •*.』 THE RED AURA AROUND SCARLETT'S SKIN LESSENED INTO A FAINT STRAWBERRY GLOW.

The night stretched long and cold, the air thick with the scent of blood and damp earth. The battle had ended, but the war was far from over. Scar emerged from the shadows, his towering frame moving with deadly grace. His fur, a deep shade of charcoal, gleamed under the moonlight. Scars littered his body, marks of past battles, proof of his dominance. His golden eyes flickered with something unreadable as he stopped in front of the crumpled figure on the ground.

Ryan raised the chair in his hands, and with a swift motion, brought it down on me, his eyes cold as they met mine. I was paralyzed by the fear in my eyes, unable to move. "Ah!" The pain shot through me like a jolt of electricity, and I couldn't contain the blood-curdling scream that escaped my lips. My fingers were crushed instantly, mangled and bleeding, as I stared at them in disbelief. The physical pain, sharp and intense, barely compared to the crushing weight in my chest.

she announced. I furrowed my brows at her. I knew that I had no scars on my shoulder. I would prove her wrong. "I'll show you that I'm not your Issa because I do not have that scar!" I exclaimed and pulled the long jacket I was wearing off my shoulder so that the world would see. The crowd exclaimed and this made me actually look down at my arm. I gasped when I realised that there was a scar there. My heart skipped a beat. Queen Nineveh smiled as she approached me. "You have a burnt scar on your ankle too," she added.

I quickly covered it with my hand, and Marco noticed. “What are you doing?” he asked. “It’s ugly,” I whispered. The scar reminded me of the day I protected Marco. I didn’t regret it, but it wasn’t pretty. Now I had a scar on my back—and another on my chest. “It’s not ugly,” he said gently. I sighed. I didn’t believe him. Seeing the sadness on my face, Marco touched my cheek. I leaned into his hand. “Face me, Maddie,” he said, guiding me to turn around and kneel in front of him. He looked from my eyes to the scar on my chest. I looked at his chest too, where scars from Carson were still visible—especially the one from that awful day.

“You told me once you were addicted to my face. Said it was your drug. Well… it’s gone now. Just scars. So please—go find someone whole.” “I’m so sorry, Jake…” Ariana choked out. “Sorry?” I laughed bitterly, my head shaking. “I wish sorry could fix it.” And then—something warm touched me. A hand. Small. Soft. Real. It was Liz. I knew how her hands felt. “Jake…” Her voice was soft, trembling. Her eyes were dripping with tears, but she didn’t look away. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t disgusted. She was just… there. She touched my scars like they were nothing, tracing them without being disgusted.

Her tears soaking into his shoulder while he murmured soft reassurances against her hair. "I thought I was broken," she whispered when she could speak again. "Thought all these marks meant I was damaged beyond repair. That no one would want me once they saw how much I'd been hurt." "You're not broken." Carlos pulled back enough to look at her, his hands framing her face. "You're scarred. There's a difference. Broken means can't function. Scarred means survived something that tried to destroy you and kept going anyway. And that's not weakness. That's the strongest thing I've ever witnessed."

Antonio just knows how to hurt someone badly. "What the fuck does *not really* mean?" Ben's words are sharp, and I hug my legs closer. As if a lightbulb had turned on in his head, he ceased in his pacing to look at me with a dark glare. "Did he scar you?" His voice is hoarse and nearly a whisper as it leaves the room thick with worry. Scarring is very difficult to achieve for a wolf because of how fast we heal. Only severe damage can cause it. I swallow hard at the question, which is all the answer he needs to hear.

Vivian Langford and I had been secretly together for five years. Everyone else thought we were bitter business rivals. Then, at a mutual friend's pre-wedding party, the groom came up with a game. Every single woman was blindfolded while the single men walked past. Each woman had to pick the man whose scent she liked best and claim him as her date for the day. I deliberately slowed down when I reached Vivian and paused in front of her for half a second. But when the blindfold came off, the man in her arms was Julian Rourke—her childhood sweetheart, her first love. "Damn, Vivian! Out of all those men, you grabbed Julian in one shot. Even fate thinks you two belong together!" Julian's eyes