Vegeta Scars Novels & Stories

"It's nice to meet you too, but just a small correction, we aren't mates...we're just companions for now." "Ohhh...my bad." "It's fine." 'So this is his beta?' Linessa thought, rumoured as a Demon by the Devil's (Zhamar's) side. He didn't seem like much of a demon right now. From what she could see in the darkness of the evening he looked pretty innocent with his blonde hair and blue eyes. But she could see his thick, bulky muscles and as the sleeve of his shirt shifted while he drove, she could see the jagged scar that tore from his wrist to his elbow. It was a brutal map of a past battle, a reminder that his bulky frame wasn't just for show.

Dalia was gaping as she slowly looked down to see her bleeding abdomen. "Hngh-" she moaned in bone penetrating pain. Her eyes were bulging to the point that they were threatening to escape from their sockets. She began panting heavily. "What—" she stepped back while desperately trying to stop the bleeding. "What did you just do?! Are you out of your mind?!" Tears began to stream down her face in fear for her life. "... I thought I can use you to entertain her here since she's trapped in my cage, but since your bond was broken, I guess it's no use now." He pointed the muzzle to her head. "After all, that's the only reason why I brought you here."

I might have nothing but I will still stand like a pillar. I still don't understand one thing. Why couldn't he kill me that day? He said something is holding him back. Is that even possible? A tattoo on the leader's chest. I don't have tattoos. I have scars. Tears blurred my eyes as I put my hand on my chest. My scars define how strong I am. They might not allure anyone. I might be ugly in the world's eye but I know how these scars have made me strong. If they are powerful so do I am.

‘No, Scar! Don’t close your eyes!’ Ulva’s voice echoed urgently in Scarlett’s mind, causing her to groan in response to yet another punishing blow. She felt another hit, and her body burnt in pain. But then, a primal growl erupted from the depths of Scarlett’s being, signaling a profound shift within her. In a dramatic twist, her eyes burst open, ablaze with an orange inferno adorned with a silver sparkle. Like a fierce storm, she unleashed a rapid and calculated punch, feeling a satisfying connection before the air filled with a sharp grunt.

The new injury hadn't fully scabbed over yet, but its astonishing healing speed was already evident—the unique self-healing ability of a high-level werewolf. As Vanya's fingers brushed the edge of the scar, Theodore's muscles, tensed from endurance, quivered slightly. A hint of wolf transformation flickered in his fingertips; his sharp nails briefly pierced the skin before quickly retracting. After observing it, Vanya said, her pupils constricting with heartache, "This is a knife wound. It might leave a scar. Who hurt you?" "I got slashed accidentally during a fight. If you don't like it, I'll get scar removal surgery so you won't have to look at it and feel upset."

The admiration that showed on his face filled my heart with joy. I silently gasped when I saw him toe to head. His clothes were severely ripped, and he was bleeding profusely. He had cuts on his back that I could see, and his hair was disheveled. He has lost a lot of weight in a matter of a few days. My heart ached as soon as our eyes met because of how frail he appeared. His cheeks were hollow and his eyes had bags under them. His nose looked broken and his cracked lips were bleeding from the corners. My anger reached an all-time high, and I twisted my arm, freeing and punching Scar in his face.

"You... you look different." "Am I not supposed to? I'm no longer human now." She sat back on her heels, her hand sliding down my bare chest where the huge ugly scar of my wound was. It was a mesh of thick, vampire flesh, a network of broken flesh meeting at the point where my heart was supposed to be. Kayla touched my scar, her eyes unsure... almost scared.

Three of them lunged for me at once and I jumped out of the way but one of them caught me, giving the other a chance to sink their sharp teeth into my skin. I screamed again as I tried to pry them off but they wouldn't budge. I felt myself grow weak as I sank to my knees and they all wanted a piece of me. That would have been funny if I wasn't being mauled to death. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks and loud screams escaped my lips. I could barely hold myself up anymore. I was starting to feel numb when I heard my name being screamed. It sounded distant but I recognized that voice anywhere. Beta Carlos.

Amara stared back, trying to project a semblance of stillness, refusing to betray the sheer terror gripping her. ​Emiliano stared at her for a long, silent moment, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be assessing her, her fear, her presence in his bed. He slowly walked around the bed, stopping on his side. ​He reached up, pulling his undershirt over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Amara couldn't breathe. Her gaze involuntarily dropped, taking in the powerful breadth of his chest, the taut lines of his abdomen, and the faint, intricate scars—silent trophies of a violent life—that crisscrossed his left shoulder.

The wound is still here, and I know that it's opening again. I touched the scars on my chest, near my heart. I winced as soon as I felt my scar in my chest. Until no, I still don’t know what really happened, or what caused this wound of mine. School Accident, that's what he told me. I don't know, but I did not believe in him. I was about to go the garden when my phone beeped. … +639********* to Tatiana: Hey. I hope you are doing good. I talked to someone about your condition.