Novel & Cerita Scars By James Bay

I passed out naked, bloody, and alone but free; after ten years, I was free. I had just done the unthinkable. I completed the rejection ritual marking myself as a mate rejecter, a pariah in my community. I not only rejected my mate but my old pack. My whole identity to that point – was gone. I was now scarred, no longer marked. Now, I carry the black scar created by the silver blade, and I reject the mate made just for me by the goddess. The cursed life of a "Scarred One" is what I must look forward to now. The sense of loss was foreboding. Was what I lost the only cost for my freedom from my mate bond?

"What, is Mom not as important as some junk locket? You know what happens if her condition worsens." "I know." I cut him off, my voice cracking as I crouched on the floor. "No one knows better than me when she loses it." My old scars burned as I recalled it. Like a volatile child, she'd speak kindly one moment, and the next, brand me with a hot poker. The smell of scorched flesh haunted my nightmares. Andre fell silent, knowing how diligently I had cared for Evelyn, but a moment later, he hardened again. "I got it, you don't want her to get better."

The girl in the mirror standing opposite me was a girl broken and recombined with the improper pieces. "Pathetic," I muttered to myself. And I grinned. Cold, empty thing that it was, with no regard for the girl that once was me. Because what I discovered, Jake and Cassandra didn't kill me. Victoria didn't, either. They just provided justification for waking the hell up. I removed my makeup and cotton brushes wiped away like discarding the old me. I looked again and caught sight of something new in my eyes. Peace of anger. Hunger. "No more tears," I told myself. "Time they're sorry for all of this."

Layla scrambled back in terror, but it was too late. My claws ripped her dress, revealing the pale skin of her back. It was smooth. Flawless. There was no scar. And Myrna... Myrna had a hideous scar running from her left shoulder to her right hip. The scar I had touched a thousand times, but never once asked where it came from. "Moon Goddess," I collapsed. "What have I done?" "You regret it now?" Layla sat on the floor, her eyes filled with malicious glee. "It's too late, Clark. It's far too late."

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.

This man almost doubled his muscle mass. His dark brown hair had subtle streaks of red throughout. His eyes were green with hints of gold. They were the most amazing things I had ever seen. Looking at him made my heart pound. His eyes were focused on mine as he held my gaze. The scar on the left side of his neck was faded, the sight of it enraged me. I didn’t know why I was so upset about him being hurt. I felt myself begin to get lost in his eyes when my mind snapped me out of it.

My eyes and hair are some of my insecurities, which I inherited from my trash father. My mom is so beautiful, she wears beautiful black hair and dark eyes, which Silas inherited. My mother and brother are both dead. It still stings inside my chest, but I was trying to forget all the painful memory this past few years but every time I tries, memories will flash in my head, repeatedly hunting me.

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.

One was in the bathtub and the others were assisting her in her bath. Agnes silently let them scrub her back and wash her body. She sat in the bathtub without moving and letting them do their work. After a while, they made her stand and dressed her up. She felt like she was in an 80's movie that features the life of royalty. Agnes watched her bare self in the reflection of the mirror. The scars that fade away was now replaced by a new and fresh one. Her eyes wandered around her body until they found the oldest one near her stomach.

He held his phone and watched the video all night long. The next morning, when he looked in the mirror, he saw a man who looked like a vagrant—unshaven, haggard, and lifeless. He stared at his own reflection and muttered bitterly, "You deserve this." … On the day of my wedding, all my college classmates showed up, including Tristan. At first, I was worried he would cause trouble again. I didn't want to be disturbed by him anymore. Even with my good temper, I couldn't stand being constantly tangled up in his drama.