Under Your Scars Trigger Warnings Novels & Stories

Poppy gently pulls me to a chair. “Such pretty hair,” she mutters as she starts working with it. She is gentle and doesn’t pull on it. She puts my hair into a simple updo bun. It is not slick, but still curly. I like it because it's simple. “Alright, makeup.” She gets in front of me. “I’ll keep it simple and clean. Just enhance your natural beauty.” “Natural beauty? With these scars?” “These are an indication of what you’ve survived. They mean you’re a warrior. I have my own scars, and I never cover them. I wear them with pride because I overcame it all. You should too,” she says.

I was Gavin Whitestone’s treasure for ten years. Then he abandoned me for another woman three times, and I finally saw the truth. I didn't love him anymore. I have three scars. Each one is named Gavin Whitestone. The first is just below my ribs, from a shootout two years ago. Sofia Bianchi ran out of a corner and took a bullet for Gavin. It hit her arm. Gavin sent every doctor in the city to her side, while I was left in a dark corner, pressing my hand to my stomach to keep myself from bleeding out from a piece of shrapnel.

"Time they're sorry for all of this." I sat at my desk, flipped on my laptop, and opened a new folder. I titled it Project Rise. And in that script, I began making a list of every vulnerability, every threat, every weapon I had at my disposal to strike back. Victoria's business partners. Cassandra's father's company. Jake's compulsion to be number one. Anything and everything were up for grabs now. They thought I was finished. They thought I'd just vanish into thin air, marry some dull fellow or reappear in thin air.

I hurried upstairs to the bedroom to change clothes. I am currently standing in front of the large mirror in the bathroom. I can clearly see my whole body, especially when I take off the robe I am wearing. The scars on my chest and shoulders immediately come into view. When I try to look at my back, I see two more there. They are the scars from Yuan’s gunshots. They left marks, and they are very visible on my skin because I am fair. Somehow, I feel like he left these scars intentionally, so I would still think of him every time I see them. The scars that made my heart break even more. The scars that made my whole being feel disgusted and afraid.

What did it even matter? I stared at the scars on my back in the mirror for many minutes after I got out of the shower, scars that had been inflicted on me by my mate and his father, scars that’d stay there forever. I’ll never be able to wear any dress that reveals my back because of those scars. I traced the thickest of them with my index finger, starting from my waist all the way to my middle back. My fingers couldn’t get all the way so I stopped and sighed. Zayden did that to me.

Proof that the truth doesn’t always win out and really ambitious and resourceful people can get away with multiple attempts at m*rder. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about that. Scars are just something that stay with you forever. I do know that sometimes the ones that have silver in them will open up if I take a hit too hard, like they are fresh. I never understood that, they are a year old now, they shouldn’t still open up, but maybe that’s the silver, maybe I am too weak to heal from them properly. They are a reminder of one of the worst situations of my life, but at the same time, I am still here with them so they also show that I survived. I don’t know if I want them to go away, but

Lenore whispered. She was trembling as her eyes landed on her scar scattered back. Her back was almost completely covered in scars. They were all in various stages of healing. Some are still bright pink, others the color of her skin. Her back told a story of horror. Flashes of her step mother yelling about food being overcooked or undercooked; even though they were. Items going missing and mysteriously returning. Items breaking she was not ever involved. It was all just a punishment because she never belonged there. Tears slipped out of her eyes, her mouth trembling as it tried to hold back her cry. She didn't know seeing the scars would make her feel this way. How could anyone want to look

A rival pack attacked us, and Braden has been busy restoring order. Thankfully, he told me not to stress about my pack duties until I’ve fully recovered. He can be really sweet sometimes. As I step into the shower, warm water cascading over me, washing away the tension coiled in my muscles. I lather the soap over my skin, I catch sight of the faded red marks on my body. It still doesn’t feel like my own. Braden has tried to explain what happened, but... I just wish I remembered. Even if only a little bit off it but it's just blank. He said we can see the doctor if I want to get checked out but ... I don't know if I want to know the truth. Foamy bubbles glide over the dark pink scars on my wr

"Other than the doctor, who was completely insane, and the nurse who Kas seemed to trust, there wasn't a single wolf in the pack that the Elders spoke to who had not either hit her or said shitty things to her." "Lenora said her scars are intense." Milo says quietly after a minute of silence. "Yeah, like Freddie Krueger intense. Our doctors called the marks on her back 'keloid scars'. They are thick and raised up like big bumps. Usually only humans get them. They said it's because that fucker used wolfsbane on whatever he was whipping her with and it made it more difficult to heal. Imagine how damn strong you have to be to go through abuse like that and live. She was just a kid. She didn't h

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.”