Pain In My Soul Novels & Stories

My jaw was locked tight, and I was gripping the edge of the marble table so hard it started to crack under my fingers. "I... I don't know," I managed to choke out. It felt like the kind of pain a wolf would feel when he loses his mate, or when she's in grave danger. It’s a physical destruction. It feels like a part of my own soul is being hacked off with a rusty blade. Every nerve ending in my body started to scream at once, a white-hot agony that made my skin feel like it's being peeled back. I hadn't felt this kind of soul-crushing pain since I lost Arcie. It was a dark, heavy reminder of a grief I never wanted to revisit.

Before I could retreat, they caught me—and burst into laughter. Humiliation burned through me. Annoyed, I stormed inside, slamming the door shut. My back hit the wood as I slid to the floor, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks again. “How long will this hurt last?” I whispered, my voice trembling as I clenched my teeth against the pain. After what felt like hours of sobbing, I forced myself up and headed for the shower. Yet, the ache wouldn’t leave me. My dreams of building a life with him—having his children—were officially over.

Because eventually, after carrying too much pain. the soul stops shutting down out of hatred for love. It shuts down out of exhaustion from surviving it.

And the pain… it reached every single part of my body, of my soul. I've never felt anything like that in my life. It was like the pain of shifting but not fully shifting, combined with the pain of a rejected mate bond. No, it was worse than those two combined. This pain was indescribable; it was killing me. My whole body was on fire and on pins. My wolf mirrored my pain, so there was no solace, nothing at all to alleviate my pain. Then the whispers started: “Is she running mad?” “The pain of the divorce must be turning her rogue.”

and I wanted nothing to do with that man. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, but I didn’t even bother wiping them away. What was the point? They would only be replaced by more. My breathing became uneven as I dragged in a deep breath, feeling the pain in my lungs. Everything hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. And it wasn’t even my body that hurt, it was my soul. It felt as though someone had reached inside my chest and ripped everything apart, leaving nothing behind. I took one small step closer to the edge, looking down as the city continued moving beneath me.

My limbs grew heavy, my chest tight with a pull I couldn’t resist, and before I could fight it, my body betrayed me. I fell asleep. And that was when the pain began. Not the dull ache of bruises. Not the shallow sting of cuts I’d long forgotten. No…this pain was different. This pain was familiar. It was the one I thought I had buried, the one Caelum dug into me with his rejection. It was the pain of my soul tearing away from his. It was the bond ripping. It was me breaking. “No…” My throat was raw, though no sound passed my lips. My cry existed only in the hollow silence of the dream.

He lacked inner peace. He inhaled the vinous smoke as the corner of his lips twitched in a sad smile. His eyes deceived him being moist and a lone tear slipped down his face on the sand. The sand sucked the water as soon as it fell on it, and he wondered if his pain disappeared in thin air like that. He breathed out a puff of smoke through his nose and mouth. Looking up at the sky with the sad smile plastered on his face he spoke up, "Why so hatred for me, ya Rab?"

I don't think he will come to me tonight because he has so much explaining to do to Mitchell and she is his soul and soul is more important than shame. I sat in a cab, sending a text to Joanna that I am fine and going home, and asked her to go home safe and let me know once she is at home. There is so much hurt, anger, and embarrassment inside me that I am afraid I am going to burst but I locked everything inside my head and heart for now. I can't have a mental breakdown in a cab. I will learn one day to not get hurt by anything easily and wait patiently for it.

As if the hell I went through was just a nightmare. But it wasn't. I stopped in front of a window near the auction hall and looked at my hands. My fingers weren't broken like just a few moments ago, and my wrists' bones didn't pierce my white skin due to being twisted. My kneecaps were alright too. The physical pain was no longer here. But I felt it deep down inside me, stamped in my bones, brain and soul. I might look fine, but I still felt how my tormentor disfigured my body, making me scream until I lost my voice, how it hurt until I begged for my death, how my heart beat rapidly and how breathing was misery.