Scars Novel Amelie And Gideon Novels & Stories

I was Gavin Whitestone’s treasure for ten years. Then he abandoned me for another woman three times, and I finally saw the truth. I didn't love him anymore. I have three scars. Each one is named Gavin Whitestone. The first is just below my ribs, from a shootout two years ago. Sofia Bianchi ran out of a corner and took a bullet for Gavin. It hit her arm. Gavin sent every doctor in the city to her side, while I was left in a dark corner, pressing my hand to my stomach to keep myself from bleeding out from a piece of shrapnel.

Scar breathed, still trying to catch her breath as she ran her hands up and down Damon 's sweaty back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to be like that," Damon admitted, his voice rough with emotion. He rolled off of Scar afterward and stared up at the ceiling, feeling like his life had just changed irrevocably. Because he knew, without a doubt, that he was going to fall in love with this woman, and there was no more dangerous move to make besides walking straight into enemy fire.

It was better to just be honest. "Let's take it slow." He kissed me softly and tenderly. "Say you love me, Estie." I mumbled, "I love you." "Who am I?" "Leon." In my dazed state, I added, "I love you, Leon." He finally seemed satisfied. "I'm going in, Estie." The emptiness in me was filled, and my whole body was enveloped in a searing heat. I felt like a bird soaring into the clouds.

I guess that’s why I have my scar, a reminder of the fact that I’ll never be as strong as I need to be. As strong as I want to be. Maybe I deserve the scar…. I-i know I deserve my scar it’s all my fault. I… I need to search the body. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, collected the supplies and got to my feet, stumbling backwards as my backpack settled on my shoulders.

I could feel his member pushing on my thigh through the jeans. He lifted me up slightly removing my shirt. His eyes widened as he saw the scar covering from my shoulder to the bottom of my ribs. I had forgotten about it in the moment. I could sense his anger rolling off him as he focused on the imperfections of my body. He leaned in and kissed me passionately. I felt his bare chest press against mine as my body gushed, soaking my panties. A deep groan came from his chest as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

Daniel asked, smirking. “I thought we were friends. Should i have said ‘an enemy from school?” “Oh, are we just, friends, from school?” Elena smiled, aware of Daniel’s fixed gaze oh her. “This way.” Elena took him to the cathedral, the library, the kitchen(only the exterior view) and the exterior view of her dorm too. “And this is Amigo garden,” she announced as they stepped into it. “This is my favourite place in Amigo. It’s-”

Totally opposite from mine, which is a pair of glistening ocean. While staring at him, I could see why he was being feared by everyone, his eyes were already telling me nightmares. I put down my book beside me and walk towards him, I jumped on the bed and hugged Silas, he sexily chuckled in response. "Yes," I answered. I am not a machine who made without feelings or any remorse. I can feel my heart pumping, the warmth of my breath, and the desire to protect someone. I'm afraid, afraid that there will be a day that the one I badly want to protect, leave 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.

Scar listens without interrupting, her expression unreadable. “He brought me to his pack, and things went pretty badly.” For the next hour, I tell her everything, without filters: the betrayal of my soulmate, the mockery and later acceptance from the pack members, my meeting with Amelia and the betas’ mother, my reunion with my best friend, and the reason for my escape. I even tell her about Ophelia and the eerie resemblance between them,the same surprising outlook on life. Scar listens again and again, saying nothing, her face shifting through disgust, joy, horror, sadness, and finally relief.

Inside, the fire in the stove was dead, but the room still held the scent of our last night together—cedar, coffee, and the lingering echo of a rose. I stripped away his cold, wet clothes, my hands moving over his body with a desperate, explicit need to confirm he was still there. I saw the silver scars on his back, but they were fading, the skin beneath them turning pink and warm. I saw the place where the heart had been—the skin there was smooth now, the mechanical graft gone, replaced by a raw, jagged scar that looked like a lightning strike. He watched me, his amber eyes never leaving my face. He reached out, his hand trembling, and traced the line of my jaw.