Let This Grieving Soul Retire Novel Novels & Stories

Chapter One Hundred And Five :Griefs Veronica’s POV The burial was a somber and intimate affair, with only immediate family in attendance. The sun cast a gentle glow over the cemetery, as if nature itself was mourning the loss of my beloved mother. The air was heavy with the scent of flowers and the weight of our grief. We gathered around the grave, our faces etched with pain and sadness. The priest's words were a gentle breeze on a summer day, offering comfort and solace in our time of need. But even his thoughtful prayers couldn't ease the ache in my heart.

If you want to read it, you can see it on Goodnovel Academy on Facebook or here https://www.goodnovel.com/book/31000004780-263089 When I entered the seaside mansion, I tried to pull away from my thoughts from the earlier events and Kang Xianliang’s rude behaviour. After I saved him, he was nice to me, so I had forgotten his real self for a while and how unpleasant his personality was. It was my mistake to do it, and I would make sure not to forget ever again. Thinking about it would only ruin my Christmas Eve mood, which was unforgivable. I didn’t intend to look upset and grumpy when everyone else was happy.

At least she uses it to whip spirits that don't want to follow her obediently. "Let's go and settle somethings that's happened 500 years ago!" She said to herself and stepped out. FLASHBACK!! Rose sat down with her eyes closed when the book she was holding suddenly shone a bright light, indicating that there is a person about to reach the end of his life on earth. She hurriedly leaves the Realm and went to the place where she can retrieve the new dead soul, and it turned out to be a car accident scene. After speaking with the soul who doubted that he was dead, she collected him to return.

The Morning After ~ Elena ~ The morning sun poured in through the curtains, warming my skin, but it did nothing to ease the tight knot of anxiety in my stomach. I shifted under the sheets, painfully aware of the empty space beside me. Alexander was gone. Again. The silence in the penthouse felt heavier than ever, and I hugged the pillow to my chest, wishing I could just vanish.

When they arrived at the hospital, Grayson was sitting beside Alice, carefully spooning chicken porridge into her mouth with the tenderness of a doting lover. I watched them, their actions as intimate as those of a couple deeply in love. The sight still stung, but the pain had dulled. Perhaps it was because I was already dead; what could any of it matter now? Death had a way of making even the most bitter grievances seem trifling. At least they could no longer disgust me the way they had when I was alive.

The sadness in her tone was heavy, matching the gloom of the ruins. I signaled the advance. If the outside looked neglected, the interior was a graveyard of memories. It was silent…..unnervingly so. How am I supposed to find the eldest woman in a ghost town? A heavy thud startled me. I spun around to see Novel sliding from Kitty’s back, hitting the dirt. I rushed to her side, my heart hammering against my ribs. I wanted to roar at the wolf, who at least had the grace to look guilty, but the sight of Novel’s pale, unconscious face silenced my anger.

I lie in the dark and listen to Zane's steady breathing and feel the mate bond, that low hum that has become as much a part of my baseline as my own heartbeat, and I think. I think about the girl I was at ten, standing at the edge of the dark. I think about the girl I was at twenty, walking into Highcrest College with a false name and a mission and the cold, settled determination of someone who has narrowed their entire life to a single point. I think about what Elder Petra said: grief doesn't resolve when its object does. It simply stops having an external target.

He sat on the floor, mumbling at times so that even Damon had difficulty understanding him. “What is he saying?” Damon had asked the other younger man, the man’s impassive nephew. “La cuna de luto, mister—what is your name? Sharpe, you say?” La cuna de luto. An odd name, the Cradle of Mourning, linking birth with death— what did it mean? Anne wished they hadn’t spoken to that batty old man, listening to his riddles and dead-end tales.

Grief. My heart was grieving. Grieving with a sense of loss. That was when I heard a baby crying. That sound penetrated my ears, lifting all the fog, bringing me back to my senses. ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm sorry. I was too weak. I couldn't admit that Mom died because of the revenge they took on me." Hearing that, I finally felt a sense of relief. It turned out that Zack wasn't perfect at all. And maybe, I didn't need him at all. As I came to this realization, my soul turned transparent and began to fade away. Zack panicked instantly. He desperately tried to hold onto me, but it was no use. Before my last trace of consciousness faded away, I said, "Let's not meet again in our next life, Zack."