Running With Purpose Novels & Stories

Emerging with Purpose The heroes stood on the threshold of the hidden chamber, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the artifacts that they now carried with them. A sense of renewed purpose coursed through their veins, infusing them with an energy that belied the challenges they had faced.

After Lucas's POV The year after the transition was the most ordinary year of my life and the best year of my life and both of those things were the same thing. I ran the hill every morning. Not as an Alpha's territorial circuit — as a wolf running in country he loved for the pleasure of running in country he loved. The distinction produced a quality in the running that was different from every previous morning's run in a way I had not anticipated — not more beautiful, not more peaceful. More genuinely mine. The specific quality of something done for its own sake rather than for the function it served.

Writer's POV She ran as fast as her four legs could carry her, up until she got to the city. One would probably think that she always runs, with the way that I always introduce her, but in fact, she does run, she has been running, ever since she was born. Running to a certain destination, or to a goal, or to a purpose, or away from the traumatic life that preceded her horrific sixteenth birthday. She was brought up to be the best in all she did, that was why her mother had insisted on training her cruelly no matter how much it broke her heart.

ZADEN I started running at midnight. Not because I planned to. Not because it was scheduled or strategic or part of any particular routine. I just couldn’t sleep This is the thing about running hard through familiar ground in the dark, it is supposed to clear everything. That's what it has always done for me. Years of using this land as a reset, a pressure valve, a place where everything that cannot be controlled can at least be outrun for an hour. Tonight it wasn't working.

" I don't need telling twice. I run.

I kept running as silent as I could even tho my feet was hurting and bleeding from the wound I sustained while running. " We are coming for you weakling... run as you can!" I heard the guy who I guess must be penson sarcastic voice.. I began to increase my pace, upon my hurting feet, my bleeding and hurting back and my heavy wrist, I kept running not because I want to survive for myself but for the fear of my husband becoming a widower and my kids losing the love of a mother at their younger age. I kept on running, running to survive.

Mila hung up the call with a satisfied tap. “You realize what you just did,” she said. “Yes,” I said. “I agreed to step into a ring where three devils and a dozen governments all want a piece of me.” She smiled. “And you made it very clear you’re the one holding the microphone,” she said. “That matters.” My heart still hurt when I saw Alexander on the screen. But underneath the ache, there was something else now. Not just rage. Not just grief. Purpose. “I’m not running,” I said aloud, more to myself than anyone. “I’m not hiding. I am the woman who burned a monster’s world down. Now I decide how we build from the ruins.”

Run. The cold of Hezekiah's palm was lifted from my arm; that's when I knew. The air became heavy; everything was in slow motion. The Elders lunged forward, speed rivaling the momentum of a speeding bullet. I locked onto Esther and pushed myself forward into a sprint. With my arm around hers, I pulled her close to me, my other hand yanking the bag off of Kizzy's shoulders. And that's when the four of us sprinted across the cursed expanse. My hand gripped Esther's damp flesh with all the strength I had and forced her to run. One leg in front of the other, straining our muscles to make us faster. Any less of an effort, and it was death. This was our motivation—our motivation to bear down again

And that. That's more reason for me to run.

Dad checks his Rolex, “Eight fifteen.” I nod, and pull myself to stand, “thanks dad, you’ve really helped.” “Glad to be of service.” I start running, pulling my clothes off with practiced confidence, jamming them into my mouth as I shift; feet and hands turn to paws as I touch ground, and off I run, full pelt. This is the first time I have shifted since before Jackson captured me and god damn it feels good to just run. But this time, I have a purpose. I have somewhere to be.