Love Heals All Wounds Novels & Stories

she yelled pacing in the room in just her oversized shirt looking sexy as hell. “Kill? baby, you can’t even kill a flie ..” her hands pressed against my lips “Not one word from you, cold face.” and that’s it ladies and gentlemen, my heart races as she again applies balms on my wounds. It doesn,t matter how many times you put bandage over the wounds, they never heal untill you treat the cracks, the cause of it , you can’t heal unless and untill you stop being loyal to the posion, just like how the mind kills the body, we’d have to stop listening to it’s thoughts in order to be saved.

Kael said "That love was not the problem. The problem was that the love was hurt. The people who were hurt were not the ones who made the problem. The problem was made by the ones who rejected love." The Unspoken Place changed. Kael felt like the whole place was thinking about what he said. The voice said "You talk like the wound is healed.. Is it really? The people who made the universe are at peace now.. The wound is still there. It will always be there." Kael thought about this. The voice was right. The wound would always be there.. That did not mean it was still hurting. He said "Healing does not mean that it never happened. It means that we acknowledge what happened. The scars will alwa

And now, as I sit on the beach, the sand warm beneath me, I cradle another life within me, a new chapter of our story about to begin. Xavier's hand finds mine, his touch grounding me in the present. Together, we watch the sun descend toward the horizon, casting hues of gold and orange across the sky. The waves dance to a timeless rhythm, a reminder that life moves forward, and that healing is possible even after the deepest of wounds.

The healer, a tall, composed woman, glanced up from her desk, her eyes sharp as she took in the situation. "What happened?" Sage asked quickly, her eyes scanning Katie’s condition with practiced concern. "She’s bleeding," Jerome replied, his voice tight. "She was in the prison... we need help. Now." Sage didn’t hesitate. She gestured to a nearby table, and Jerome carefully laid Katie down. The healer moved swiftly, her hands working with practiced precision as she inspected Katie’s condition. Her eyes scanned over the bruises, the cuts, and the signs of severe internal distress. Katie winced at the touch, her body trembling as Sage pressed her hands gently against her abdomen.

My eyes continue to sting with tears as hope starts to fill me. “The pain feels like it did when I lost my whole family.” Ash nods his head. “Loving can hurt sometimes but it can also heal. You don't have to walk alone this time, there are so many of us that are here to walk with you through the pain and agony. Because we all feel it in different ways.” “So its not to late.” Ash shakes his head. “It’s never to late to apologise. People who love you and people you love can also mend the pain that you feel.” I nod my head suddenly feeling better then i have in ages.

If she seemed herself damaged, it was going to be though for her mate to convince her otherwise. 'That is a tough one. Mated to someone who thinks they are broken,' I said. 'I pray they all somehow get over their trauma and find a balance,' Maureen said as she held on to my arm tightly. I could see that the scene actually affected her so I said the first thing that came to my mind just to make her relax. 'You know what they say about love healing all wounds,' I said smiling at her. 'I thought it was time that they say heal all wounds,' Maureen said raising a brow.

A wound no plea could heal. And there, inside that room, two hearts that had once loved each other deeply stood divided by a chasm so vast that it might never be crossed again.

he mumbled, trying to wave me off. My mother’s face flashed in my mind. Her hands, calloused but gentle, crushing leaves. “Always treat a wound, Madeleine, no matter whose it is. Neglect breeds infection, and infection breeds death.” “Later might be too late,” I said, moving closer despite his obvious discomfort. I pulled a small pouch from my pocket, filled with dried comfrey and yarrow. “Let me.” He hesitated, his gaze wary. “You… you know about healing?”

Every time I saw a new mark, a fresh reminder of whatever he was going through, my stomach twisted. I started carrying a small tube of arnica gel in my bag—not that he ever asked for it, but I couldn’t just do nothing. “Here,” I’d say, handing it to him casually, as if I wasn’t screaming inside. “For the black eye. It’ll help.” He’d take it with a small grunt of thanks, his eyes flicking away from mine like he didn’t want me to see too much. But I could tell he appreciated it, even if he didn’t say it.