Romans & histoires Battlefield Of The Mind Audiobook

I am not dead, someone is just playing a sick game with me. "I got it," Maurice sounds almost out of breath "Good, now you're going to start digging as fast you can," I struggled to breathe, my hour was coming to an end and I only have minutes, Listening to metal clinging against tiny pebbles, I could hear things I shouldn't be able to, apart from the unsteady beats of Maurice's heart as he grew tired. I could hear every deep breath he took, and each time he wiped the sweat that formed on his forehead with the back of his hand, how do I know this? Is like my mind was in his mind, behind his eyes. Blinking slowly, my eyes began to closed, succumbing to its weariness.

Taking deep breaths, I prepared myself to take a chance. Remember to calm down Aylin, so everything will be fine. Reminding all Orson told me this morning, I tried to concentrate on my mind. I was trying to channelize my energies, but couldn’t feel any changes. My head was hurting, with intentional attempts to concentrate on my brain. Sounds of angry and injured wolves were thundering through the battlefield.

My ribs burned beneath the tight bandages wrapped around my torso, and every movement sent soreness tearing through muscles that had already been pushed beyond their limit. But none of that compared to the ache inside my head. “No matter how far you run, they will get to you before you dare to answer the call of—” The beast's voice wouldn’t leave me alone. I could still hear the wet gurgle that followed after Bran’s claws sliced through him before he could finish speaking. I squeezed my eyes shut. The battlefield rose vividly in my memory. Blood soaking the dirt, the metallic scent choking the air, warriors collapsing around me, smoke curling into the night sky while screams tore through the

Dozens become hundreds. Hundreds become thousands. Threads of awareness stretch through her consciousness like glowing nerves connecting every corner of the battlefield. She feels them all—her allies, their fear, their courage, their hesitation, their faith. And she answers all of it without speaking. Move here. Hold that line. Retreat five steps. Now strike. The battlefield bends. Not physically. Structurally. As if war itself has become something she can rearrange. Soldiers scream in shock and confusion. Enemies flee in growing waves.

The echo flared faintly in response, a gentle heartbeat of silver light beneath my chest. The battlefield was a frozen tableau, every movement deliberate yet hesitant. I could see Jacob in the distance, crouched low, eyes scanning, muscles taut, ready to leap. Even he had paused, uncertainty shadowing his features. I knew what he was thinking—how do you fight an enemy who does not just wield power but *understands it*, who bends the instincts of friend and foe alike? The voice whispered again in my mind, firmer this time, like a hand on my shoulder, guiding but not demanding: *He is not trying to take the power… he is trying to replace it.*

Her vision blurred, her head spinning as something inside her shifted. A flash of memories, images that didn’t belong to her, ripples into her mind. She saw herself standing on a battlefield, but it wasn’t this one. The sky was red, flames licking at the horizon. Bodies surrounded her, blood pooling at her feet. A voice called her name, but it wasn’t ‘Mia.’ It was Averia. She gasped, snapping back to reality. The battlefield around her crackled with energy, the air growing heavier, thicker. Her stepbrothers felt it too. They hesitated, their wolves instinctively stepping back.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” “Make me,” he muttered. I fought him as surely as I would any wolf that came at me with fangs and claws—sweating, grunting, heart pounding—but my body barely twitched because this battle was all in the mind. Dad’s mental claws dragged down the back of my mind as painfully as real talons would tear through the flesh of my scalp—and I yelped, reflexively flinching, then snarled, but continued to fight. “I’m not… I won’t—”

And yet— They saw me. “Aella.” The voice wasn’t spoken. It wasn’t heard. It was placed. Inside my mind. Soft. Calm. Terrifying. The shadows snapped back to me instinctively, recoiling like they had been burned. My eyes flew open. The battlefield crashed back into existence. Noise. Heat. War. Sol turned immediately. “Aella?” I didn’t answer right away. Because my heart— Was racing. Not from fear. From understanding. “They’re here,” I whispered.

This is the section filled with books that will serve as a solution to one's disastrous life battle. I almost lost to the sight of it that almost reach the highest roof. The man behind me said with a husky yet awed-filled voice, “You're right. It was the classic brought upon the battle of oneself. It was written by the very known...” His voice disrupted by his emotion that suddenly flared. His silence and deep breathing was something I thought as a kind of reminisce for something so dare to him. Suddenly my mind flickered, show a devastating scene. “What...” I gasped, step back with my weakened knees. My mind so strange, and it was so far to a possibly acceptable nature. It give me the taste

IF THIS IS A DEAD END, I AM GOING TO BUST RIGHT THROUGH IT! A scorching, unprecedented power detonated in the back of my mind. "Hey!" I screamed, ignoring Hudson's panicked shout to stay put, stepping entirely out of cover and exposing myself to the entire battlefield. Hearing my voice, every single raider instinctively turned to look at me. Instantly, the chaotic, deafening battlefield was violently paused. Every charging raider, every grinning killer, froze mid-step. The bloodlust drained from their eyes, instantly replaced by a glazed, fanatical obsession. They couldn't look away.