Novelas y relatos de Scars

“Sit or I'll make you.” I smile, knowing not to test his threat because he would follow through and carefully walk over, trying not to wince in pain as every step felt like I was stepping on glass. Sitting down, Scar kneels in front of me, carefully lifting one of my feet up, takes out a small knife and slices his palm and rubs the blood over my wounds. Using his healing blood magic it soaks into my skin, the cuts and blisters slowly fading away until they disappear completely. Returning my foot back to the soft pale slightly pink color. Picking up the other foot he repeats the process, healing it back to its healthy state. I sigh in relief as the stinging pain subsides until the pain is co

He started patting my back gently and I soon relaxed into his hold. I breathed in his scent and it sort of calmed my raging and turbulent soul. All the confusion I felt earlier began to dissipate and I leaned into his hold. "Nathan?" I called against his chest. "Yes, my Luna," he answered. "I thought getting healed from the scars on my body was going to put an end to my problems," I began. Nathan moved his hands into my hair and began to play with it by running his fingers through it. "I had no idea that the scars only changed their original position. . ." I trailed. "From my skin to my soul," I muttered. "And every day, it gets

I confirm. “Well, it would help me to visualize the scar if we can turn him onto his stomach. It’s been found that extra virgin olive oil can be sprayed onto a scar and it will illuminate it in various intensities based on the thickness of scarring. The brightest shade is normal skin, areas that don’t illuminate under the black light are really thick scar tissue and there are levels in between both.” “Cole?” I attempt to include him. “Will it hurt?”

Amara stared back, trying to project a semblance of stillness, refusing to betray the sheer terror gripping her. ​Emiliano stared at her for a long, silent moment, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be assessing her, her fear, her presence in his bed. He slowly walked around the bed, stopping on his side. ​He reached up, pulling his undershirt over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Amara couldn't breathe. Her gaze involuntarily dropped, taking in the powerful breadth of his chest, the taut lines of his abdomen, and the faint, intricate scars—silent trophies of a violent life—that crisscrossed his left shoulder.

As the doctor is Arthur's personal doctor, she didn’t want to go on his bad side. "Your body will heal in a week, but the scars on this scar cannot be removed in a week. It will take at least 15 days to heal them. However, you can use makeup to cover these scars. Models usually use heavy makeup during photo shoots." The doctor told her Hearing the doctor's words, she looked at him angrily and said, "I didn't ask you to give me your suggestion. I want to remove these scars on my body naturally. I don't want to cover these scars with makeup and I don't use much makeup

“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.

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.

I never liked people getting too close to me. It might have been my survival instincts and trust issues, but I'm used to people being cruel. With both my parents gone, years of surviving as a lone wolf taught me to expect only the worst in humans. Kindness isn't something I see every day. Scar watches me as I wrap up the cuts around my hand with a white cloth. As his name says, he has quite a glaring scar that runs from his left eye to the side of his jaw. His bare chest shows numerous tattoos and battle marks. A leather belt hangs on his waist, securing a pair of cargo pants.