Scars That Turn White Novels & Stories

He who then hurt me in the worst way possible. “Why do you have all these scars? Were these scars caused by them” the king softly asked. I grew more shocked by the question. Was he serious? I’m in my wolf form, which is white and often looked down upon by others for being cursed. Was he really not disgusted by it?

“That Ava is the reason it’s not healing?” Evelyn nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like this before, but it’s documented. White wolf damage prevents healing in—” she looked at Thomas—“certain individuals. Yes.” I laughed, not because it was funny but because I finally understood how out of their depth they were. “The night Ava first turned, I was the one who tackled her. Held her down. She grazed my shoulder.” I pulled my collar aside, showed them the skin—smooth, pale, not a trace of scar or infection. “Healed perfectly. Clean.”

’ 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.

Now, Stephen had to go out with a mask on. Wouldn’t it be very difficult to heal the scars on his face? However, Lush Cosmetics was bent on having its own way. Ten minutes later, Lush Cosmetics’ official page published another post. “Lush Acne Cream can get rid of the white spots left behind after using other types of acne cream.” ***

“You should shift to heal faster,” Luca said, low and sharp. Ice ran through me. They couldn’t know I couldn’t shift. I quickly pulled the pink shirt over my head. When I saw color instead of white, Luca’s worried eyes met mine. “Don’t want to ruin these clothes,” I murmured. He stepped closer, lifting my long white hair from my shoulders and smoothing it behind me. “You don’t need to hide your scars from us, little wolf,” he said gently. Then he lifted his own shirt, showing his own scars.

“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.

"Please say something, Angeline. Tell me something." Eve looked down at her hands drooping under the water. Her fingers were starting to turn blue from the cold, and her skin was slowly turning pale. There was a scar there because she had fair skin, which was very easy to get blue scars. The scars would fade with time and would most likely leave no trace. However, what about the wound on her heart? Will she remember the marks throughout her life? Will the wound bind her forever? What if the wound remains, and she can't erase it because it's too late?

Her clothes were torn and there were claw marks and bite wounds all over her, the worst of which was a claw mark that traveled from her left collarbone to her right hip. Luckily it didn’t appear too deep, and someone had soaked it with a herb poultice, as if to help it heal. " I will help you." Scar said as she muttered some words placing her hand on the wound , she looked at it but her chants weren't doing justice. She repeated again and again before Hazel told her to stop

She was draped in heavy linens, her arms and shoulders encased in thick bandages soaked in a pungent mixture of aloe, coal-tar, and medicinal oils. The pain was no longer a sharp scream; it had settled into a rhythmic, pulsing throb that felt as if her bones were trying to vibrate out of her skin. The "Light-Burns" were unlike any injury the doctors had ever seen. They didn't char the flesh; they crystallized it. Beneath the bandages, her skin bore patterns of translucent, violet-white scarring that looked like the delicate frost-feathers on a winter windowpane.

"I may be mistaken. Only criminals bear such scars. How could it be on the lady? I clenched my fists. But if this were a dream, then why did it feel so real? If I had died, then why was I here, reliving my past? "Perhaps an allergic reaction from falling into the rose bush?" Evelyn contributed weakly. I met her gaze. "Can injuries from silver poisoning heal completely?" The room was silent. Dr. Evelyn hesitated before shaking her head. "No. Such injuries last a lifetime. There’s even an old saying." "What are you saying?" I pressed. Her expression tensed. "They say that these scars can be reborn into people." A cold thrill ran down my veins. Doctor Evelyn gave a nervous titter. "But that's j