Bearing The Unbearable Novels & Stories

I won’t be able to shift, no matter how hard I try. As I step backwards, my foot slips in the snow, causing me to fall to the ground. My body acts as a shield as I hold Ruby, keeping her from hitting the ground, but now I know I won’t be able to fight back with the pain in my body as the two Bears stand over me menacingly. One of the Bears stoops down, stroking Ruby’s hair. I don’t have the strength to pull her away. All I can do is bare my teeth at the Bear, which only causes him to laugh even harder.

CHAPTER 26: Unbearable Grief The room was silent and motionless, the meal unaltered. Hana stayed still and couldn’t think about anything else apart from the burden of grief that was unbearable. She had become a prisoner to her own creation, unable to break free from the cage of sadness and shame. If only she could turn back time, and undo the terrible mistake she had made. But no way was that possible. All that remained was living with its aftermath no matter how painful it was for her.

Dante says. "I believed then, and still believe now, that some burdens are worth carrying regardless of whether anyone ever thanks you for it," I say. "Malphas believed carrying that burden alone, generation after generation, for a purpose most of the world would never even understand, was its own kind of tragedy. That containing Nyxaris without ever trying to actually understand or integrate whatever it represents was simply cowardice dressed up as duty." "He tried to free it," Mira says, not quite a question.

The pain of their loss was still there, but I had grown accustomed to carrying it silently within me. As I stood there, my mind still heavy with the weight of my past, a wave of painful memories washed over me. I couldn't help but recall the accusations that had been hurled at me, branding me as the bearer of misfortune and the cause of my family's tragic demise. The accusations had pierced my heart like a thousand daggers, leaving scars that still throbbed with pain.

I’m not ready. I used to think I was unbreakable. That I could endure anything—career sabotage, heartbreak, betrayal. I thought I was built to carry burdens on my own shoulders. But this? Carrying a life inside me, knowing the man who helped create it has walked away? That’s a different kind of weight. A weight that sinks deep into bone and marrow until it feels like it belongs there. My chest tightens until it aches. I squeeze my eyes shut, but the tears sting anyway.

I’ve had enough. As I get to the club, my muscles tense as I hoist her over my shoulder, her body limp yet still struggling, thrashing against me in a futile effort to break free. My arm tightens around her, securing her as I keep her modesty intact, covering her exposed skin from any curious eyes. In my other hand, I clutch Little Bear—the only thing she seems to find comfort in lately. Her muffled insults and cries pierce through the duct tape, but I’ve reached the point of no return. I’m done with her defiance, her refusal to see the truth.

I said, using his father's name like a prayer, "you don't need to bear the weight of the entire world alone. We can help you. We can find another way." He smiled then, an expression that carried both infinite compassion and devastating loneliness. "It is not a burden, Mother. It is simply my nature. I see the threads that bind all existence, the patterns that create suffering, the knots that could be untied if someone just had the power to do so."

Why not have it transferred to a remote location? The Don scratched his unshaven jaw and scowled. Why did he get the feeling that they were being led along like blind fools? That this entire affair was a staged one? Shrugging into his Kevlar vest, he turned to look at the Bear. The man was beside himself with grief. Apparently, his sister had died, leaving the child with him, in his custody; the Bear’s wife was a silent spirit, hiding in the shadows, rarely venturing out of the kitchen. They were a childless couple. But the Bear’s mother was a bent old woman who peered at her guests and tried to speak to them in her broken English.

“Fuck!” Unhindered presently, the werebears surge to near the separate, and anything lead we’ve picked up is closing quickly. I coarseness my teeth, thrust myself to go speedier, but it’s the pack that’s the issue; they don’t have enchantment, and never has that been more agonizingly self-evident than now. “They’re overwhelming us,” Father shouts. “No, they’re not,” I say, decided. “We’re not going to let them.”

Jasper says. “No, you guys don’t know,” I say, my voice sounding high-pitched in my ears. “There is this massive weight, just sitting on my chest and every day it gets heavier, painful to carry. I feel like my lungs are going to burst or my mind will go crazy.” My hands are flying around in an attempt to animate how it feels. “Like it already hasn’t?” Beatrice mutters, taking a cautious sip from her cup.