Healing Novels & Stories

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.

Her back ached and her fingers grew stiff, but the grateful expressions of those she treated kept her going. By sunset, she had treated over four hundred werewolves. A palpable change swept through Sterling Creek; it was as if the pack had collectively taken its first full breath in days. Steve appeared in the doorway, looking considerably better. His color had returned, and he moved with more of his usual grace. Marcus had given him another dose of mercury, and the adrenaline had accelerated his healing. Unlike humans, werewolves' healing abilities were supercharged by adrenaline—it was like cocaine to their systems.

He taunted, “That right there, is your second piece of Blessed Silver removed.” I gaped at the vial, finally seeing the thing that kept part of myself away from me. It looked so small and dainty in the vial. How could that have done so much to me? “And, we know this process is working because Doctor Heath remarked that your healing speed is getting better.” I tried to twist my body to get a better look at the bandages but a pain shot through my body and I slumped forward, gritting my teeth in pain. “I said better, not perfect.”

Each one floating to a different wolf, hovering above their heads like personal stars. "Healing," she said, and the light changed. I felt it wash over me. Every ache, every sore muscle, every small injury I'd been ignoring was healed in an instant. Around the chamber, wolves gasped. Feeling the same thing. Old scars fading. Chronic pains disappearing and minor ailments cured. "That's Council-level healing," Corin said, his voice filled with professional amazement. "Without even touching them. That's... that's incredible."

I slowly let go of his hand, blinking as I look down. “Where’d you learn that?” He asked. God, that voice. “Umm, I learnt healing from yoga, our pack healer. She visited our university to teach us simple self-healing hacks that could help during pack training. And when, during our private counselling, she said I had the skill to heal, so she taught me how to heal. Plus, healing is one of my minor papers.”

“You’ve been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past few weeks, Miss Alessia. I’m glad to say both you and the baby are perfectly fine and healthy. You were very lucky—someone rescued you from the crash site and brought you here.” I blinked at him, stunned. “Weeks? It’s been weeks?” “Yes,” he replied calmly. “And you’ll still need a couple more weeks to recover fully. Fortunately, you didn’t suffer any broken bones. Just soft tissue damage and some internal bleeding, which we were able to treat.” He gave me a reassuring look. “If you feel any pain or discomfort, be sure to inform the nurses immediately.” I could not believe it—that I had spent weeks in this strange hospital, broken

He asks the question seriously, like maybe he's worried that reducing therapy means declaring himself cured when he still sometimes has nightmares and still gets anxious about certain things. "It means you're healing, which is different from being fixed. Healing is ongoing—you'll always be working on it, always learning more about yourself and how to handle difficult emotions. But you've built a really strong foundation, and now it's about maintaining that foundation rather than building it from scratch." Dr. Harrison glances at me and Jeffrey. "The same is true for your parents. They're doing their own

“A promise is a promise.” I didn’t press further. Instead, I carefully unbuttoned his shirt. He was so thin I could see the faint outline of his heart pulsing beneath his ribs. Whatever internal damage he carried, it had been there for a long time. I placed my palm gently on his abdomen and let my healing energy flow into him. At first, Bennet winced and tensed, but as the warmth of my power spread through his body, his face softened in disbelief. His breathing slowed. I could feel the ancient wounds mending beneath his skin—deep, resistant injuries that clung to him like a curse.

Nolan waved at Seara and shouted, “I’ll stop by during your break, Beautiful!” In the academy’s medical room, Seara tried to focus. Healer Winona—a meticulous middle-aged female wolf healer—accompanied her. In front of them was a guard soldier suffering from a shoulder fracture due to combat training. "Remember, Seara. You are a non-dominant healer," Winona explained. "You cannot force the energy out. You have to feel it flow like water filling the cracks in the broken bones. Place your hands on his shoulder, close your eyes, and imagine the bones coming back together."

I fit against him like I always had. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “For what?” “For reminding me,” he answered, “that healing isn’t about forgetting. It’s about choosing to stay.” I smiled into his chest, my eyes finally closing. Outside, the moon hung pale and calm in the sky, no longer red, no longer angry. And for the first time in a long while, sleep came easily.