Healing Novels & Stories

And maybe that’s what healing actually looks like. Not becoming a different person. Just finally feeling like yourself again.

teasing her. “ no ” she answered and I smiled. “ very well, carry on with the execution ” the blade was drawn and she was made to kneel , I would cut off the hands that touched her later ,for now I wanted to take note of her reactions. “ we pray the goddess thy soul to keep ” the Pack chanted , like we do others that has died by the blade . her mind seemed to come to a conclusion. “ wait ! I can heal you Emperor. ” I laughed.

The bond knitting itself back together one thread at a time. Not whole. But healing.

Alexander then turned to the doctor and told him her name is Sheila. However, Sheila pleaded with them to stop asking questions and get out of the room as their voice was making her head hurt even more. Alexander turned to Doctor Clemson and asked for an explanation the moment the step out. Doctor Clemson revealed that Sheila couldn't remember anything about herself as he predicted and suggested that she be taken to St Thomas hospital in London, where there are specialists who could attend to her before the situation worsened. Alexander agreed and left the room to make calls. He contacted his son Tyler who's a doctor a St Thomas Hospital and informed him of the patient he was bringing over t

I'm his nurse, the one who'll take care of him forever. END

My heartbeat had not yet steadied and I could still feel my arms vibrate by my side. Today's episode of healing mister Holloway was the scariest I had ever encountered in all my life. Face to face with what could have turned to homicide. I wiped my sweat from my forehead with the back of my palm and headed back to the kitchen. Water, I needed water.

I asked Doctor Adam who was writing something on his file. He closed it and placed his glasses on the table. "I know you weren't prepared to see that but we have gotten to know what actually makes you heal the other person. Do you know what it is? " He wiggled his brows in a funny way. "No, I don't. " I said. I was not ready to play some game with him if he would be doing this to kids again. "The suffering. Tears. A plea for help. That's what ignites the power of sensitivity in you and which makes the healing light. " He watched my face as I tried to understand everything.

But after her actions, regret followed, as the wood didn’t hurt the wolf but only made it angrier at her. Elaira stumbled backward and her friend already having run off, leaving her alone to face the angry wolf. She fell on her butt as the wolf kept moving closer to her as if drawn to her. In the blink of an eye, the wolf lunged at Elaira and her heart pounded heavily in her chest as she thought she was on the verge of being killed. Elaira stood there frozen and shut her eyes in fear, waiting to be killed, but surprisingly, she felt no pain and she slowly opened her eyes, only to see her mother right in front of her with blood streaming down the corner of her mouth.

It tugs up from my gut, a warm sensation spreading through my body, and flows out through my fingertips. In that moment, she turns abruptly to face me, her gaze sharp and questioning. The shock in her voice is palpable as she asks, “What are you doing?” The sight before me only intensifies my resolve to heal her. Her broken wrist, evident in its awkward angle, is a painful reminder of the ordeal she has endured. Her ribs bruised, hint at the extent of her suffering. With unwavering focus, I allow my healing energy to envelop her. It washes over her like a gentle wave, soothing her wounds and relieving her pain. The sound of her breaths becomes steady, a sign t

His name was Cato, and he was in the specific silence of someone managing serious pain through stubbornness. I put my hands over the wound and — offered. The gold-white light that had been radiating outward in battle went inward now, gentle rather than brilliant, finding the damage and doing what the Royal bloodline apparently knew how to do without being taught. Not healing the wound myself. Accelerating — the body’s own mechanisms given a push, cellular repair running at a pace it couldn’t have managed alone. Cato’s jaw unlocked. “That’s—” He looked at his leg, where the burned edges were visibly knitting. “That’s something.”