Stars Around My Scars Book Novels & Stories

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.

Elora’s back was turned toward me, her tanned skin glowing under the moonlight that filtered through the stained-glass ceiling. But it wasn’t just her beauty that held me hostage. Not that it wasn’t strong enough to, because believe me, she was beautiful. It was the scar. A faint, glowing mark that traced between her shoulder blades. Like a singular claw mark. Almost as if someone had drawn it there. A soft ray of light from the moon rested on it, and it glowed, despite the numerous candles lit in the room. I swallowed the lump that had grown in my throat. “Elora?” I called out gently, stepping forward.

Befriending Mabel seemed a very good idea at first but as Devlin found out, it was harder than it looked. Although he continued giving her flowers and chocolates, she still seemed wary of him. On the day of their promised date, he gave her the book she wanted longingly. She was hesitant at first but when Devlin reminded her that it might not be available again as it was a bestseller, she accepted it graciously by giving him a peck on the cheek which made Devlin’s day. As it was still summer and too hot outside, he took her to the new Al Reem Mall. As they sat in a glass paned balcony overlooking the sea, he asked her what was bothering him for a long time.

Chapter 1: The "Scarred One" Amelie "I, Amelie Ashwood, reject you, Tate Cozad, as my mate. I REJECT YOU!" I screamed with the last of my energy. I took the silver blade dipped in my blood to my mate mark. The searing pain my body and my wolf felt was like my heart was being ripped from my chest while being hit by a bus. I guess not all new starts are bright and shiny. The physical pain was unbearable, but my mind was clear. "I did it. I'm free." I passed out naked, bloody, and alone but free; after ten years, I was free.

, I came out of my car and I wasn’t surprised when Scarlett came out wearing a long face. “You bitch!” She said as she walked towards me. “Can we do this later, I got work. Thank you” I said dryly and made to enter my car but she was fast to touch me by my hand. I quickly removed her hand from my body like it was a plague and looked at her angrily. “Never in your life, I repeat, never touch me with that hand you uses to give my dad a hand job” Scarlett looked pretty embarrassed as I said that but she was quick to cover it up with a scoff.

Lauren gazed into the mirror as she peeled off her clothes, not wanting to miss a single sight of it. The once white bandages that had been wrapped on her back now had a hue of red. She sighed and even when she knew it would earn her scolding from Malcolm, she slowly peeled the bandage off her back closing her eyes at the gory sight that greeted her. Her eyes teared. She didn’t believe it was this bad. And Bryan had seen it too? It made her sob more. She didn’t want him to end up having trauma because of her. She was used to it after all.

SCARLETT The moment I pressed send, I knew something inside me had shifted. There was no going back now. The city glowed beneath the balcony like a constellation of sins bright, beautiful, built on ruin. I could still smell the smoke from the fire that nearly killed Damien. It lingered on my clothes, in my hair, in the back of my mind. When I closed my eyes, I saw my father’s name on those contracts, and Kade’s smile haunting the edge of every memory.

But he didn't falter, his gaze unwavering as he reached out to gently cup my face in his hands, his touch sending a wave of warmth flooding through me. "Star," he murmured softly, his voice filled with tenderness and understanding. "You are beautiful, scars and all. They are a testament to your strength and resilience, not a mark of shame." “And besides I have terrible scars too, so I'm in no position to judge anyone. I was too ashamed of mine so I tattooed all over them.” He said raising his arms as I saw a scar but tattoos scattered all over.

The Scar. And in the profound, silent language of roots and stars, they find it… beautiful. Not good. Not safe. But beautiful. The inevitable flow. The breaking. The marking. The endless, imperfect story of it.

I approached the scattering of stars in the night sky, which for some reason felt like I hadn’t seen in ages. Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the soft rustle of the night breeze and the ticking of the clock on the wall. I leaned my body against the wall, placing my weight there. Each breath felt heavy, but my body obeyed slowly. My gaze shifted to the large mirror in the corner of the room. My hair was messy and disheveled. My face... the right side looked darker, rougher. The scar. The mark of the curse. The mark that signifies how this world has never truly allowed me to rest.