Stars Around My Scars Book Novels & Stories

The way he looked at me as though I had slipped through his fingers, though I wasn’t sure I’d ever been in his hands to begin with. Was that even a fight? I wasn’t sure. It hadn’t been shouting or doors slamming. Just silence. Silence with an edge sharp enough to cut through bone. I sat up with a sigh, swinging my legs off the bed. My scars prickled under the moonlight, old marks etched into my skin like someone else’s handwriting. I reached for the jar on the nightstand,the cream Malrik had left without a word weeks ago. Scar removal. Expensive. Rare. I rubbed it carefully over my arms, my collarbone, down to my legs. Slow circles, like erasing an old story.

I opened the door slowly, the infinite darkness seemed to end when falling on his face, Startlight Astra- the ultimate light source of Hell, Heaven and Earth splitting into hues while dancing on his smooth skin. He was sleeping calmly ,the soft voice of the pitter patter of my feet didn't seem to bother him but a cease in his brow sang a tale- he wasn't calm...he was in pain. His shirtless chest sculpted with the essence of masculinity rose and fell as he breathed deeply. But what bothered me the most were the burn scars littered on his body because of me. Several tears escape my eyes as I made my way to his bed. That day in heat I had felt loved, soothed, healed. He took all my anguish givi

“It’s a beautiful spot here, isn’t it?” Mollie commented as she walked across the grass to join Sasha where he stood studying the pool in the center of the small tree-filled glade. Once, before her marriage to Henry, this glade had been the scene of disturbing desecration when it had been taken over by a band of travelers, eco-warriors, led by Wayne, an awful man, a drug dealer.

The invisible one on her chest, the divine mark the Moon had carved into her soul, that she couldn't see but always felt. Usually she looked away. Couldn't stand to witness the physical evidence of everything that had been done to her, everything she'd survived. But this morning, she made herself look. Really look. These scars were part of her now. Written into her skin like a language only she could read. And they told a story. Not of weakness or shame or being broken beyond repair. But of survival. Of fighting. Of refusing to let possession or divine judgment or cosmic consequences destroy her completely. She traced one scar with her fingers, a raised line on her forearm, and remembered th

The firelight dances over our faces, showing the deep feeling in our eyes. “I need you to know something, Xander,” I begin nervously, clutching a small charm that has been with me through many problems. “Every scar on my skin, every wound, it tells a story—a story of pain, loss, and sometimes, hope. But I fear that some of these scars... they might break us apart if we allow them.” Xander’s eyes soften, and he takes my hand in his. “Aria, those scars are proof of your survival. They are signs that you’ve survived pain and still stand here, stronger than ever. They don’t define you...they improve you.”

They jubilated. Their reaction made me chuckle. I couldn't be more grateful for the people next to me, it was definitely fate when I made it out of that horrible pack. *********** I was in the library, going through a lot of books, with Princess Thania by my side. She helped me find a lot of books on healing and herbs, while they were quite helpful— We hadn't found anyone that talked about healing scars or any book on procedures to heal scars. “This is hopeless,” I sighed in defeat, kicking the books away from me.

“You did.” “And the Book?” He shook his head. “Gone.” Her gaze dropped to her hands. The wound where she’d cut herself had healed… but not cleanly. The skin had scarred in a spiral, dark and perfect, etched into her palm like ink burned beneath flesh. The same spiral Mara had worn. The same spiral that had filled the Book’s pages. “I feel different,” she whispered. Tristan’s hand hovered, almost touching hers, then pulled back. “You are.”

If he would say that it was his right, then that would be a lie. It was Liara who had suggested to him the night when she saw his scars for the first time by saying, 'Scars are beautiful when we see them as glorious reminders that we courageously survived. Don't allow your scars to hold you hostage. Don't allow them to make you live your life in fear. You can't make the scars in your life disappear, but you can change the way you see them. And if you will ask me, then you can get your body tattooed with beautiful art to change the way to look at your body.'

Still hers. She trailed her fingertips his arm, as the morning light danced over the bruises and healing wounds as if trying to make sense of the pain etched into his skin. Battle scars. Every one of them earned in the fight to get Sophie back. The war might have been over, but peace hadn't yet settled down in her heart. Grayson stirred beside her. "You ever going to stop watching me sleep like a serial killer?" She smiled faintly. "Probably not." He cracked one eye open. "Creepy and sexy. That's very on-brand for you."

He chirped happily and seeing how much that meant to him broke me to my core. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that soon, I wouldn’t get to see these innocent eyes again. If there was something I could do to stop it, I'd give my life for it. I’d already given up everything for him — left Westonvale, crossed the continent, joined a new pack. Buried my name, my past, my pain. But now even that wasn’t enough. The Moon Goddess was cruel. I didn’t deserve this. Niko didn’t deserve this. He was just a baby.