Healing Is Here Novels & Stories

Another call. Another storm. And this time, the whole world might need healing.

I went back to Instagram and saw that I had a new request from an account named "Nick" It was obviously Nicholas. Once I'd accepted his request, he sent another message soon after. "Tomorrow, 1:00 pm at the college clinic."

As he finished speaking, an assistant turned on the tablet. The camera footage from inside the healing room was projected for all to see. The moment the screen lit up, every eye was glued to it. In the video, a female healer was dressed in a sterile white coat, wearing a surgical mask. Her height, body type, and even the way she held a hemostat were identical to mine. Her face was completely hidden by the cap and mask. You could only judge by her general appearance. On top of that, the camera in the healing room was mounted high on the ceiling.

Nathan catches me before I hit the floor, one hand cupping my face, tapping my cheek fast. "Haley, look at me. Hey, stay with me." "Someone call 911!" Avriel, already moving, phone already in her hand. I try to hold onto his voice. I can't. Then black. —

Her voice cracked softly. And underneath the anxiety sat something deeper. Disappointment. Because healing sometimes felt frustratingly non-linear. Adrian reached slowly for both her hands. “Elena.” She looked at him through overwhelmed eyes. “Healing isn’t becoming immune to pain.” His thumbs brushed gently across her shaking fingers. “It’s learning you can survive it safely now.” God. The sentence wrapped around her chest tighter than the panic itself. Adrian stayed steady in front of her while rain-cooled wind moved softly through the balcony.

So I asked a nurse about the cause of the noise earlier when she came to check on Roman,' dad answered. 'How is Roman?' I asked sounding very unhappy even in my ears. 'Still the same. The contamination stopped but he isn't healing either. But the fact that it stopped is enough indication that his body is fighting to heal,' Uncle Marcus answered and I nodded unhappily in understanding. 'Excuse me. I will just go in to see Raven,' I said and they all insisted on going with me. Since the doctor didn't say we couldn't, I didn't object and allowed them follow me into her room.

That the world was crammed with so much more than she or any normal person understood. Rising from the bed, Dhara quietly moved away and found herself standing in front of the dressing table. She saw herself wearing an extra-large t-shirt as a nightdress and noticed her dark hair piled up on top of her head, making her look even messier than she felt inside. But that was not what she was trying to look at. What she was trying to see was what made her special. Zaydan said that she was the healer the packs around the world had been looking for. And if what he said was true—she couldn’t help but believe him now despite their differences—then was it possible that she was actually who he said she

"Have you not done enough damage? Do you want to kill us too, like your cursed mate killed so many others?" The words hit me like physical blows, but I forced myself to step closer. "I am not here to harm anyone. I can see your daughter is very sick. Please, let me help her." "Help?" The woman's laugh was bitter and sharp, her eyes wild with grief and terror. "You are mated to the cursed king. Who knows what poison runs through your veins now? Your healing gift is probably cursed too." "My healing has never harmed anyone," I said, my voice breaking slightly. "I have spent years helping people, saving lives. I would never hurt a child."

"No contact, no proximity, digital or physical." "Thanks," Rita said, and meant it in her bones. That evening, the family settled in to watch a clip from Amiriam's interview that had aired during their drive. She was herself on screen—no tricks of make-up, but a truth that would not apologize. "People think healing is an arrival," she said on screen, "but for many of us it's a practice. Like breath. You do it again and again, and one day you realize you're living." Later, when the house settled, Luke stood with Amiriam on the porch. The moon was pale, the trees black stitches against it. “You’ve done something wonderful,” he said. “Whatever else is happening, nobody can take that away.”

There was a problem. It wasn't healing.