Walker Scobell Eyes Novels & Stories

"Look at you, all eager to please. You didn't even offer anything in return. Why would she help you out?" He then handed me a card. "I'm Daniel Jenkins. Here's a little something for our first meeting. ZenWave's beauty clinics are all part of my family business. With this card, you can enjoy unlimited visits." ZenWave was a well-known, high-end beauty clinic chain. A single visit there could cost tens of thousands of dollars. This gift was too generous. I didn't take the card, but Leon snatched it from Daniel's hand and stuffed it into mine.

He looks so much older lying on the ground. The wrinkles around the wound tell a story of a long life. His eyes look like mine. His eyes look like they’ve been aged by each kill. His eyes look like mine, and it doesn’t even faze me. Stolen and steady his eyes peer down my body. “I’m surprised you didn’t hesitate,” Caleb says as we start to walk back to the elevator. The girls are still crying, but we don’t have time to make sure they're alright. A few people have already come out of their rooms to see who got shot.

“Isabella Vance had a coloboma in her left eye—a keyhole pupil. A genetic marker no surgery can replicate without blinding the patient.” He leaned in, his face inches from the woman’s terrified features. “And Isabella Vance had a scar on the inside of her wrist from the time we climbed the gate at the Grove when we were ten. You? You have a tan line from a watch you forgot to take off before they put you in that dress.” Zander shoved the woman away. She stumbled, her sea-foam silk tearing against the edge of a table. The “ghost” didn’t vanish—she just looked like a terrified actress in a cheap costume.

Skyla's eyes went wide when something clicked in her mind, "Oh Goddess! I was gaping at his abs and belly button for a long time. Is it because of that, he is…" To her surprise, the remaining words didn't get complete in her mind, the moment her eyes settled on his face. Skyla looked at the scars with a sinking heart and then gaped at all his facial features before moving to his eyes. She said, her voice bearing a heavy shock in it, "Are you okay?"

She replied, and placed a kiss on my cheek. "Aw," Camila said emotionally as she wiped an invisible tear from her eyes and Robin chuckled. "When are we getting discharged?" I asked him. "Walter said tomorrow." He said and I nodded. Davina stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes. I wasn't the only one who noticed it. Everyone in the room did. "She has Skye's eyes." "She has the alpha's eyes." Luna and Lucas chorused along with Robin. And indeed yes. She had the eyes of Skye. Those piercing hazelnut eyes that would forever haunt my memory.

I hear a snap and drop the bear legs to the ground with a loud thud and turn to look for the sound, I am still hunched over breathing loudly when I see three very angry looking men coming straight for us. One had a very large jagged scar across his left eye with sandy blond hair that reached his ears and blue eyes. I force my body upright and back up a little, my eyes straining to stay open as I fight exhaustion. The men look between me and the man on the ground. The man in the middle being the largest of the three softens his gaze at the sight of me; dirty, exhausted and gasping for air. The man was tall and had a large build much like the bear, he had dark brown hair with blue eyes that he

To only lower thei eyes. Except for one. Scar's eyes bore holes into mine to trail lower to my hand. And I couldn't help clench my fist more tightly. Letting the glass shard to pierce more. " Ardo! Stop please! You are making it worse. Why are you doing this!" Camilia's words fall on deaf ears. As I was only looking at Scar. Pain reflecting in her eyes in contrast to guilt in mine. But I didn't care. Standing up I seethe, not breaking Scarlett's eye contact making it clear.

“You okay?” “Peachy.” I held up the camera. “Got your touchdown. Coyote edition.” He went still. “You saw them?” “Hard to miss when they’re screaming in Dolby surround.” He glanced at the spiral scar on his arm, then at my ear. Didn’t ask to see it. Just nodded once. “Grandma says the marked ones see clear. Didn’t think it’d be a skateboard girl from Tennessee.” “I’m full of surprises.” He almost smiled. “Game’s not over. Stay off the fifty-yard line after the third quarter. Mist gets… grabby.”

The grey wolf had its muscles tensed, ready to pounce at Celeste at any moment. His eyes were burning with intense ferocity. As he stared at Celeste, his mouth curled into a menacing snarl, revealing razor-sharp fangs. But something seemed to hold him back. Perhaps it was the sharp, gleaming blade in her hand that gave the beast pause. The wolf knew it would be foolish to underestimate this small human girl and her dangerous weapon. Scarface, even in his wolf form, still had his hideous scar stretched across his left eye. That only made his already fierce gaze even more intimidating.

But it’s the scar that steals the air from my lungs. It starts at the edge of his left eyebrow, a pale, jagged line cutting cleanly through perfect skin. It slices down past his eye—missing it by a mercy that feels deliberate—over his cheek, down to his jaw. Old. Healed. Permanent. Not ornamental. Earned. His eyes are steel-blue, colder than I remember, sharpened by years of command and survival. They flick over me once—measuring, assessing—and then lock onto my eyes. Both of them.