Star Scars Novels & Stories

The moon had long since set, but Aria could not sleep. She sat curled on the edge of her bed, knees pressed tight to her chest, the shadows of the room pressing in on her like a cage. Her gaze never left the seared mark on her wrist. It pulsed faintly under the torchlight, its glow soft but unyielding, mocking her with every heartbeat. Her nails had scratched the skin raw. She had tried again and again to scrape it away, to draw blood until nothing remained but torn flesh. Yet no matter how much she clawed, the mark endured bright, damning, cruel.

but then it all stops. Scars everywhere. Crisscrossing all over his back are so many scars. Some look fresh and others look old. One even looks like it's still bleeding but when I reach out to touch it, I don't feel any wetness. I see some on his arms, on the back of his neck... how many more does he have? I make him turn to face me and I gasp. Even more are on his chest and stomach. Tears come to my eyes and Skylar reaches out rubbing my cheek. "... Don't cry, Ebony." He murmurs. "I didn't mean to upset you... I'm sorry."

"Shouldn't you say something else?" "Should I?" He patted his hair as he looked at her with a tilted smile. "Take a bath and I'll help you with your injuries." She said. "Imogen would heal it overtime." He said. "But there'll be scars..you shouldn't leave scars all over your body." She shook her head. "Scars are a mark of victories." "Not today's scars." She moved closer to him, "These are marks of distraction." She whispered and raisedd her brows, her eyes brightening like the sun. Xandros's expression darkened as he stared at her.

“I was a victim of a contract that turned my blood into a product. If you want to ‘Save Kai,’ then stop buying the tickets to a show where the performer is being kept awake by a needle.” He held up his arm toward the phone camera, the sleeve pushed back just enough to show the fresh bruising from the IV and the older, yellowing marks that told the story of the Starlight Facility. The scars weren’t pretty. They weren’t glamorous rock-star damage. They looked exactly like what they were—evidence. He didn’t look like a god on stage anymore. He looked like a survivor who had finally stopped pretending.

He was walking beside me, clutching my belt loop with one hand and the hem of his father’s pants with the other, trying to help, trying to be brave. "I'm here, baby," I gritted out, my breath coming in harsh gasps. "Just... keep walking. Don't look back." I didn't want him to look back. I didn't want him to see the scars that now marred his father’s back. The shift had been violent, a desperate tearing of flesh and bone. The Star-Fang Dagger had burned away the infection, cauterizing the wounds, but the cosmetic damage was horrific. Thick, twisting ropes of white scar tissue now marred the black skin of his back and shoulders, permanent maps of the pain he had endured.

She soon raised her hand slowly to take off the hood off her head. Cara was startled and backed away by what she saw. She backed away and strived to catch her breath. She had just seen the face of Alice disfigured with scars. They seemed to be old but deep and was the lengthy type. There were two scars that was made by claws right on one side of her cheek and three on the other side. Cara whose back was bent, resting her hands on her knees turned her head to sight Stefan. Stefan stared at Alice while Alice stared back at him.

However, as the shirt gradually pulled away, what Dean saw sent a shock through him. Chen’s back was covered in scars, large and small, each one bearing a strange and unsettling shape. Some looked like long, deep cuts, while others appeared as irregular burn marks. What struck Dean most was that these scars had been cleverly concealed beneath tattoos. During their previous intimate encounters, Dean had only vaguely brushed against these marks, never fully noticing them.

The scent of roses mingles with the warm candlelight, setting the perfect scene for the night I have planned. "We’re going to relax together, just as we promised," I say gently. "We both need this." I begin lifting his shirt, but he takes over, peeling it away himself. My eyes trace over his body, drinking in the intricate ink that adorns his skin—the ancient markings of the first Alphas, lunar phases, constellations with their own stories, and scars, both old and new. One in particular catches my attention—the deep scratch running from his shoulder to his lower back, a reminder of Kane’s first attack on us. Yet, there are many others, older ones I’ve never asked about.

BRIDGET The pair of blue eyes staring back at me from the mirror was glassy with shock and grief. Tears slid down my cheeks, tracing the long scar that ran from beneath my right eye to the edge of my jaw. I didn’t bother to wipe them away anymore. My trembling hand brushed against the matching wound along my back. Stitched, yes, but the doctor’s work couldn’t erase the evidence. What Gabe had done to me would never fade. The marks of his fury were carved into my skin, branded into me, etched there for eternity by the man I loved.