Blackbird Mind And Body Novels & Stories

I fall down to my knees, hunched over and I can feel myself being thrown into the depths of our mind space. My body thrashes on the ground, my bones snapping with the force of the shift more intensely than ever. The pain is worse than it was the first time I shifted after I got Ansel. He’s so full of despair. I hear voices but I can’t tell who they are. The last shred of restraint I have snaps, and I fall into the black. Raven

Just before closing them, she thought she saw a flash of golden light passing by, landing on Liam's hand. Before she could think further, Liam's voice echoed again. "Now, recall the sensations from practicing the Bird Dance of the Five Animal Play." Bluebird instinctively cleared her mind. Perhaps it was related to the medicinal bath, but even without practicing the technique, she quickly entered a profound state. Bluebird felt as if she were enveloped by a furnace, with waves of fire surrounding her. The flames, though intense, did not harm her. Instead, they continuously seeped into her body, bringing her strength with each influx.

"It means 'mighty warrior.' And you will never, ever know the taste of rejection." Far to the south, Silas Blackwood sat in his study, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He looked at the map of his territory, but his mind was on the ravine. He could still feel the phantom itch of the broken bond. He told himself it was just a biological remnant, a ghost of a severed nerve. He didn't know that the ghost was currently learning how to kill him.

But the sudden, horrific thought of Ayomide's wicked relationship with his bed yanks my spirit straight back to the cold ground. "My wolf is not as weak or fragile as your brain thinks, Mr. Blackthorne." With a sharp jerk, my hand yanks completely away from Idris’s giant palms. "There is absolutely nothing for your throne to worry about," I say, snatching the leaf wrap and binding the cut myself with tight, expert knots. "My brain is still fully equipped with high anatomical knowledge despite my daily work as a corpse examiner for the pack. My own mind knows the exact depth of this tiny scratch."

M I K H A I L I have no body. I can’t feel anything physical. The only thing I have now is my consciousness, and even that is waning in and out of focus. One moment, everything is dull and muted, then the next, everything feels sharp. Sometimes too sharp. So sharp that it hurts, even though I have no physical form to experience that pain. I’m surrounded by an endless sea of black. Nothing in the distance, nothing up close. Just a whole lot of nothing. I want to inhale and feel the air in my lungs, but I don’t know how to do that.

They would cast her out for real. It’s not like I am into social pyramids, but at least I have a wallflower life. Where no one sees me and no one cares what I do. Concentrating as she closed her cobalt-colored eyes, Cent pictured the black butterflies in her mind. A zap of cold breeze whipped her body just like what she expected. She envisioned a flock of black butterflies surrounding her body from the tip of her hair to the last of her shadow. The next thing Cent knew, her body turned into hundreds of black butterflies.

He showed her no compassion and that's when the young woman felt that her cause was truly lost. For a moment, the young woman could hardly breathe. No! Not now... she said to herself. Not now... She began to make the hundred steps under the vigilant eye of the man. She was choking... She had more and more difficulty to breathe and in a last look of pity towards the man, she felt herself losing her balance... She closed her eyes and fainted. Before closing her eyes, she had time to see the face of the stranger who had caught her in time... Black hole... ***

Not after that unusually exquisite sex with the man who isn't your husband! Nothing new goes on until we're finally in Astoria. I'm still wide awake, heedful, as the car pulls in front of a two storey house made of black-painted wild wood and translucent glass—a modern cabin in the woods. I sigh softly at the sight, my butt stuck on the seat. Long churning trees, birds twittering merrily, and the soothing breeze are what make this place a pure tranquility. I come here whenever I need solitude and peace of mind.

I sat upright, changing my settings to switch to mails. It was from Dr. Xander with a black envelope as the subject followed by, "You need to see this!" I read out loud. I clicked on the new mail. Dear Becca, Dr. Baldowski managed to compile your memory into a disk and it is attached to this mail. But before you watch, hear me out first. You might have a deep-rooted belief concerning your personality but don't play a personality you are not. Yes, something or someone might have deluded you to that particular belief but believe me, that's not who you are.

I whisper, my voice thick with tears. “I know.” His words are soft, tinged regret and pain. Heavy silence stretches between us, but for the first time, I don’t mind it. I listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my ear, letting it ground me, anchor me in the present. The music changes, James Arthur’s Last of the Whiskey filling the room. The slow, sultry beat wraps around us, and I find myself wishing I could sway to the melody, to lose myself in the haze of smoke.