Booktok Powerless Novels & Stories

If I were half as powerful as Diana, I might have done terrible things. “I do not say this because I’d be different if I were in your shoes,” I began. “I’m saying this because it’s the right thing to do. I believe there are many ways to handle issues. Part of what being powerless taught me is that there are different ways you can solve a situation instead of resorting to violence.” Something flickered in her gaze. Something that gave off the edge of vulnerability. I continued. “When you’re powerless, and you’re still on the other side of life where things seem to go against the wind. Being powerless doesn’t mean you don’t have a say in the matter. It simply means using violence wouldn’t be y

Lulu Helplessness is the slowest poison to kill the soul. A month ago, standing outside the tightly shut doors of Caspian’s study, we both had to swallow a bitter pill. Here we were—a Luna and the strongest Alpha—standing in stone silence, completely powerless to change Dylan’s mind.

How am I so powerful and yet no match for them? I stare into the fire, unable to catch the dredges of sleep, the wheels in my head still turning. Kathleen turns over, her eyes opening. “Can’t sleep?” “Just thinking.” “About what?” “How even I couldn’t face off against the enemy? I have these random bursts of power, but I just feel so helpless.” “You shouldn’t blame yourself.” Kathleen tosses a stick into the fire before turning on her side and looking at me. “You’ve not yet uncovered all your powers. It’s going to take time.”

There will be no powers inside it. If there is a break in between the generations then the powers will be restored. I closed the book and placed it where it was.If Luna Victoria is so powerful then why neither Juliana nor Knox have any powers that their mother possesses?

What the fuck was she talking about? "He'll do anything you ask, and the demons will use it against him." The book she'd stolen during our visit to the building fell at my feet. "Here is the book. I don't recommend you open it until you're worthy enough. Right now, you're just a pathetic excuse for a she-wolf. Until you can find your roots, you remain powerless. Do not open the book." "I am not powerless," I said through gritted teeth, balling my fists by my side.

I stared at the empty field and felt ridiculous and human and lost. I closed the laptop. The window was a mirror and a night view all at once. I looked at myself and saw a man with every resource except the one that mattered. I had money. I had lawyers. I had a security team that could thread a needle in the dark. I could buy a company before lunch and fix a supply chain before dinner. I could not find the woman I loved or the child I did not know I had because they did not want to be found. Power looks strange when it cannot reach the one thing it wants. For the first time, I felt powerless.

I winced moving away as she walked close, her eyes glowing faintly. “I was expecting you to fight back, this is disappointing.” “I almost died for this book you're not getting it this easily” I yelled the pain in my arm healing completely. I forced my free hand that wasn't holding the book but I didn't attack. She knew how to use her powers maybe better than I ever did. If I acted careless she would win this. “You don’t get to walk around with that power,” she said, like she had a long time vendetta against me. “That book belongs to my people, give it to me.’

“But this is not about comfort. This is about control.” I leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “All my life,” I said slowly, “I thought being powerless meant being safe. Turns out being powerful is just as terrifying.” River let out a small laugh. “Welcome to the club.” I exhaled. “Fine,” I said finally. “I will read the book. Again. Properly.” Jane raised a brow. “Without skimming.” “Yes,” I groaned. “Without skimming.” “And no portals,” River added.

But the rhythm was the same—alive, indifferent, relentless. I passed a bookstore and paused. In the window, a display caught my eye. A stack of books titled Power Without Permission. My name on the cover. I stared at it longer than necessary. Not because I was proud. But because I remembered the girl who once believed power had to be granted. I stepped inside and bought a copy. At home, I placed the book on the shelf beside others—histories, theories, stories written by women who refused erasure. It fit there.

Mine answered without permission, rising sharp and hot against it. “You talk like strength is only blood and secrets,” I said. “Like power is just who you can step on and still stand tall. But true power isn’t blind inheritance.” Elias leaned in, lips curling. “Then tell me, boy. What even is true power?” I held his stare. Didn’t blink. “True power,” I said quietly, “is when the thing that should scare you most doesn’t anymore. Not because you got stronger. Because you stopped caring if you survive it.”