The Scars Last Of Us 2 Novels & Stories

And gradually, like a flower wilting, her mother had distanced herself from her second daughter until they barely ever saw each other anymore except on special occasions and even then, her mother never looked her in the eyes. Scar had lost not only a sister and a mother to the Lauchair clan that night fourteen years, but she had also lost herself. And till she took her last breath, she would never forgive everyone of that despicable pack. Talk about the scar, the nature of the two clans.

she said, glancing at me, “if you could heal someone that is close to death… maybe you can fix scars too.” The room quieted just a little. I followed her gaze and realized what she was talking about. My scar. The old burn mark that curved down from the corner of my jaw to my neck—a part of my past I had tried to hide but couldn’t erase. I instinctively reached up, fingers brushing the edge of it. I hated that thing. I hated what it reminded me of. Rachael tilted her head. “I’m just saying… wouldn’t it be kind of amazing if you could heal yourself too?”

“Well, this wouldn’t be the first time you are trying to impale something through my skin. You father and you did a great job in wiping out my entire pack. Know now that my fight with you isn’t just because of Scarlett.” He glared at me for a second, then yelled. “What pack are you talking about?” “You must have killed a lot of people and destroyed a lot of packs for you not to remember which one.” I turned my back to show him a scar that was designed with tattoos. “You gave me that scar twelve years ago. You thought you killed everyone in the Haaland pack? Did you think your secret would be buried forever?” He stepped back in shock, narrowing his eyes. “You…are alive!”

A sense of rightness and completion settled in my core. We held each other, panting, for a long while. Both of us spent. I must have dozed because I woke to Lysander tracing his fingertip over my skin. I lifted my arm to see the double crescent shaped mark that had already healed leaving a pale metallic gold scar. My gaze latched onto his chest. The scar there was the same. The golden color shimmered in the moonlight that filtered through the glass ceiling. “It’s beautiful,” I said. “It is.”

“Not just good – amazing.” “One hundred percent amazing,” Jo said solemnly. “Thought so.” Scars held out a huge hand and she took it, felt the raised skin there. Without even looking, Jo knew that he had more scars on his hands and briefly wondered what he must look like under his jeans and blue t-shirt and cut: she’d heard from Jinx that the fire had burned Scars so badly, he’d needed reconstructive skin grafting on his back and legs. “It’s a pleasure, Jo.”

Each touch was deliberate, unhurried, a meditation on the shape and texture of her skin. Elif's hands wandered across his back, feeling the muscles shift and flex beneath his skin. She traced the scars there too, the ones she knew and the ones she did not. Some were old, faded to silver threads. Others were newer, pink and raised, still healing from the battles they had fought. "When did you get this one?" she asked, her fingers brushing a scar on his ribs. "Three weeks ago. One of Liesel's creatures." He kissed her neck. "It does not hurt anymore."

It followed like a phantom echo in Kael’s skull, threading through his thoughts, patient and poisonous. By the time they reached the foot of the slope, the world had changed. The once-green pass that separated the northern ranges from the old roads was now nothing but ash and bone. The ground was black, the trees burned into jagged silhouettes. Rivers of molten silver cut through the landscape like scars, flowing uphill, against logic, against gravity. “The Scar,” Lira murmured, her voice barely audible over the low hum that filled the air. “It’s worse than the reports said.”

The facility erupted in flames. The evolved infected were destroyed. The Apex was thrown into the air. It crashed into the ground. I ran. Through the flames. Through the chaos. Through the death. I reached the edge of the forest. Adrian was waiting. "Scarlett!" "I'm okay." "You're not okay." "I'm alive." "That's all that matters." I looked back at the facility. It was destroyed. The evolved infected were destroyed. But the Apex was still alive. It rose from the ruins.

Maya was into… Then I noticed the background of the photo. A man's chest. Hard, tanned skin. And a scar. A jagged scar, like a lightning bolt. It ran from his left shoulder down toward his heart. My hands started to shake. I knew that scar. I’d seen it a thousand times. I’d traced it with my fingertips in our most intimate moments. Luciano said he got it in a shootout. Said it almost killed him. No. It couldn’t be.

**Two days before the breach.** Luna stood at the edge of the Scorchmark, and felt her demon blood *sing.* The place was exactly as its name suggested—a massive scar carved into the earth where nothing grew. Not barren from lack of nutrients. Barren because the *ground itself* rejected life. The soil was black. Glassy. Fused into a crystalline surface that reflected no light. And the smell— Sulfur. Ash. Something older than time.