Novel & Cerita Stars Around My Scars Book

“It was rude of me to stare. But yes, I am here for work.” Elara’s expression softened, and she nodded. “You may be surprised to learn that my scars are a symbol of my strength, Miss Rogers.” She ran a finger along the length of her neck, staring into space. “This scar is a reminder of everything I’ve overcome to get to where I am today.” I swallowed hard.

I stammered, bowing my head, not daring to meet his gaze. He moved closer, As he drew nearer, my heart quickened, anticipating his touch. I readied myself for his kiss, knowing deep down I wouldn't be able to resist. I closed my eyes, longing for his lips to meet mine. But instead, his hand gently landed on my shoulder, tracing the scars that adorned my skin. "What's all this?" he asked softly, his voice filled with worry and care.The marks on my body are simply the scars of the beatings I've endured from Alpha Lowell, and indeed, the entire pack, particularly Luna Desi.

Through the link, Elara felt his vulnerability, the fear that he wasn't enough, countered by the overwhelming truth that, for him, she was the only star in the sky. ​He cupped her face, his palms warm and scarred, a stark contrast to the coolness of her Ice-Fire. Elara leaned into his touch, her eyes closing as she let out a long, shuddering breath. The "Slow Burn" that had simmered through forest treks, library whispers, and bloody battles finally ignited.

Below these words informed her of the date of publication which was way back in 1920. When she accidentally touched the minuscule diamond in the farthest corner, her eyes widened. Words were spilling out of the book. She let go of it abruptly, but instead of falling, it hovered in the air, tattered-looking phrases weaving out from it. Not much is known, but scars are way powerful than one can imagine. It is interlinked with deeper magic only the brave ones will dare unravel. It results in both a gift and a curse, depending on how the host will want it.

“Oh, right. Hi.” “Hi.” He extended his massive hand, and she took it cautiously. That was when she felt the scars on his hands. Even without looking, just from touching the flesh under her fingertips, she knew now that his scars weren’t from a knife, or glass, or a prison yard fight gone way wrong. These were from burns, bad burns, burns that he’d carried since childhood maybe, and her heart squeezed. In her years as a tattoo artist, she’d covered up hundreds of scars, but in some ways, the most heartbreaking ones were burns. The stories attached to them were always, always so damn painful.

“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.

He defended and my mouth fell agape. “You… oh, youuuuu” I wadded my finger above his nose and he scrunched them reflexively. “Well, it wasn't exactly a secret but still…” I trailed off as I stared at him. I couldn't keep a straight face. My cheeks were so red. It felt daunting knowing he went through mh little book and my head kept scanning the pages, trying to remember if I scribbled anything weird in it. “It's okay baby, there wasn't much in there” he assured but the naughty look on his face told me there was more to the story.

Her skin was so fair that it nearly looked translucent, but the angry burn scar on her wrist stood out starkly against it. "What happened here?" I asked. Rowena looked down and gave a small smile. Then, she explained, "I was burned by an oven while working at a diner. It's old—it doesn't hurt anymore." But I remembered something Micah's psychiatrist had once said. He despised scars. They reminded him of the fire that had turned his childhood into a nightmare. Yet he had always accepted Rowena's imperfections. I took a bank card from my handbag and placed it firmly into her hand. "Use this to fix the place up. Consider it an early gift from me."

I ran my fingers along the thin lines of old wounds that were hiding under his skin. “We’ve come a long way,” I murmured. His eyes caught mine as he tilted his head up. Now there was no darkness or storm in them; only light that was steady and true. “We survived,” he whispered. “Every scar has a story. And every story brought us here.” My throat tightened. I leaned down, pressing my forehead against his. “You make it sound like we’re stars,” I said. Eliot smiled, and his lips touched mine in a very light kiss. He said in a soft voice, "Scars and stars." "That's what we are. So if there is anything bothering you, I'm always here to listen."

Aiden looks like he might be sick, while Jasper and Marcus both look pissed. I turn back to Zahra just as she stands up straight, and I finally see what they’re staring at. Her back is covered in angry red and white scars, crisscrossing into a horrible lattice over her skin. My stomach churns at the sight. I knew her father had hurt her, but this is the first time I’m seeing the damage with my own eyes. I watch the realization dawn in her expression, and the look on her face nearly breaks me. Stepping forward, I try to ease her anxiety, wanting to brush this off for her sake. “Hey, little one. It’s good to see you enjoying yourself after this morning. How are you feeling?”