Scars Above Romane & Geschichten

We keep each other safe. I touch the scars on his arms and count them. Like the stripes of a tiger, they go all the way up to his shoulders on both arms. Some are deeper than others. They are like braille on his skin. Even a blind man could tell there is a story of pain that burns upon his epidermis. I touch his scars and feel them on his shoulders. These scars are everywhere on his body. Even his mid-section probably has scars everywhere. He has marked himself for life with these man-made scar tattoos.

Alex doubtfully asked, “How can there be that many customers for a scar removal product?” Maya snorted twice, with a mocking look on her face, questioning his stupidity. “Do you know how many pregnant women give birth via cesarean section every year? In addition, accidental injuries, ordinary surgeries, skin diseases, mosquito bites, acne, all these could leave scars. So tell me, how many customers can we have from all these?” Hearing this, Alex understood. “Okay, I’ll write a complete recipe immediately.” He quickly walked back to his room and sat at his writing desk. Just as he was about to write down the formula, he jumped in surprise when he glanced up at the window sill.

I stuttered, my voice faltering. "Do you know how I got this scar?" he interrupted, raising a hand to point at his face. I tore my gaze away from his exposed chest and met his eyes. They appeared vacant, but his lips had tightened into a stern line. Most of the time, I never really noticed the scar on his face. Perhaps it was because I always averted my gaze from his cold, angry expression. However, when he suddenly drew attention to his scar by pointing at it, my eyes were fixed upon it. The scar stretched from his right eyebrow down to his chin, a deep, puckered slash.

I watched, my eyes narrowing, as he held his arms out toward me. My breath hitched. His skin was ruined. From his wrists all the way up to his forearms, his flesh was covered in a frightening web of scars. There were deep, jagged lines, discolored patches, and dozens of circular puncture marks. They were injection scars, overlapping one another, telling a story of years of brutal, desperate experimentation.

This immediately caused Anberine to flinch sharply to Skye’s dismay. “I know it hurts but try to relax okay” Skye assured Anberine who still didn’t talk, once he cleaned the blood off of her face. Skye immediately frowned at the scratch marks now residing in their place. “That darned woman!” Skye resisted to snap as he took his bag off his shoulder and took out the scar removal potion. Biting his lip Skye placed a drop of the purple vial and a drop of the scar removal potion onto the towel and lightly dabbed it on the infected areas.

"Your choice." He looked at her for a long moment. Then, without a word, he reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted it. The scar ran from his lower left rib to his hip — old, fully healed, but thick in the way that meant it had once been very deep and had not been properly treated at the time. It had healed wrong, scar tissue pulling in one direction, and she could see by the redness at the edges that he had been pushing the training too hard and the tissue was inflamed.

I open the attachment. I am at a loss for words at with, I see. It's Amelie passed out being carried by Matt. He has slightly pulled back the collar of her shirt, showing a black and bloody scar where her Mate Mark was. This is what a Scarred One looks like. I am horrified that she had to go through that. I'm pissed Matt is holding her. I shouldn't be, but I am. I stop for a second and re-read his report. I look at the time she completed the ritual, around midnight. Her wolf was harmed in the process, and she was bleeding and injured. It was all the things Rose and Daisy said. I closed the attachment and sat back in my chair.

This man almost doubled his muscle mass. His dark brown hair had subtle streaks of red throughout. His eyes were green with hints of gold. They were the most amazing things I had ever seen. Looking at him made my heart pound. His eyes were focused on mine as he held my gaze. The scar on the left side of his neck was faded, the sight of it enraged me. I didn’t know why I was so upset about him being hurt. I felt myself begin to get lost in his eyes when my mind snapped me out of it.

The Adversary Dark Prince (POV) When people notice the jagged scar on my arm, their eyes often widen with worry, and they jump to conclusions that are far from the truth. It's a common reaction, especially in a world where scars usually hint at pain or violence. But this scar tells a different story—it's not a sign of suffering; it's a symbol of something beautiful and meaningful in my life. Each curve and line of the scar represents resilience and a deep bond that has lasted through challenges, showing that not all scars are reminders of hurt. Instead, it reminds me of love and the strength I've gained along my journey.

I looked at his retreating back wondering since when did he become so heartless. --------------------------------------------------- "Take these medicine for 1 week and the inflammation will be gone. But these marks will remain...." The doctor said looking sadly at me but I didn't cared. These scars were nothing compared to the scars on my soul. Andrea was still sitting with me talking to the doctor "I am really sorry ma'am" I said referring to the burn on her hand "It's alright they will heal but yours may not.....I will get you a special scars medicine ..it definitely works...don't worry they will vanish with time'