Soul Of My Soul นิยาย & เรื่องราว

He kept singing and lifted his head, giving me that deep look that made everything spin. My soul has already lost its way My body doesn't recognize my commands A lifetime to love you I already gave up on escaping I'm out of breath, Little One. Breathless

Because I would have had to erase and obliterate every touch and ounce of pleasure she ever received from anyone else other than me. But now I don’t have to, thank god. I still need to leave my imprint on her soul though. I need my name branded in there… forever. Lucas Snow: Owner of My Soul. It even has a fucking nice ring to it.

I can still hear the music But its not my Song. . I dont know what exactly my life is I'm a sinister I can't ruin that pure soul at any cost I'm in enough darkness I can't drag her into my dark world the world and people around me are not someone like her they're harmful and dangerous not less than monsters but she is a innocent and naive soul who can't harm anyone she is someone harmless I'm someone harmful where she is a pure soul human coming to me I'm a dark soul beast like match between heaven and hell which is completely impossible

I had the same internal fight every day, every morning, every time I went to sleep and woke up, and having my soul being pulled away from me, having her to be shared with someone. I can’t share my soul with anyone, ask any wolf out there, they wouldn’t appreciate having their soul shared with anyone, even if that someone was Milo, no matter how big my crush on him was, it’ll never be enough to make up to the fact that my soul isn’t mine anymore, having to share her was driving me to insanity, and I thought I was insane before, this is driving me insane.

“It can’t be love, not on his part. Not with his wretched family. I’ve seen the way he acts around the village—there’s one thing he wants from her, and it’s not her hand in—” “We need hope as much as we need bread and meat,” he interrupted, his eyes clear for a rare moment. “We need hope, or else we cannot endure. So let her keep this hope, Mira. Let her imagine a better life. A better world.” I stood from the table, fingers curling into fists, but there was nowhere to run in our two-room cottage. I looked at the discolored foxglove painting at the edge of the table. The outer trumpets were already chipped and faded; the lower bit of the stem rubbed off entirely. Within a few years, it would

"I know who I am. I am Kerik Renfred you wrench! The Queen of all life and dead creatures of the world." "That's not possible-" "I am Kerik Renfred!" My voice grew louder and louder over every word, and my confidence slowly returned back to me. There was no way to survive hell, without taking a piece of it with you. Something only dark souls can understand. "The worst kind of pain, is the one you feel in your soul, it slowly devours everything and weighs you down until you can no longer move. It hurts more than any burn, any scar and any bruise. Because it would never heal, no matter what you do. It's always there inside of you."

Sometimes, the body remembers what the soul tries to forget. It wasn't the pain that broke me, but the way my body stopped belonging to me. Every unwanted touch was another crack. A piece of me vanishing without a sound. I arrived to Chicago months ago, and I still struggle to breathe. This city doesn’t embrace me—it watches me. Everything is clean, cold, precise. Neon lights flicker like fake stars, and the rain hits the windows with military discipline. It’s a world built to function, not to feel.

"Impossible! That's utterly impossible! We've got so many doctors in the institute, and this is just a simple renal transplant. You'll just sleep through the whole thing. Oh, go ahead and take the medicine already. Be good!" I kept silent and merely turned away with my mouth tightly shut. My noncompliance enraged Miles, and he was visibly upset. He smashed the glass of water on the ground, his gaze on me menacing. "You're nothing but an invalid now, Cassidy. Without me, you'd be lying on your back, popping out kids for someone else. I don't care whether or not you've regained your memories, but you're taking the medicine!" I clutched my wrist, now bleeding from being cut by a shard of glass.

"My performance crew finally granted my skin a half-day release, so my carriage rushed straight here from the stage grounds. My mouth hasn't swallowed a single piece of meat yet." "Would your paws like to share the morning bench with the King?" "Yes. My thanks to your watch." My healing brain knows that high voice perfectly. The exact sound of it is basically burned into the very core of my soul. For five horrific winters, whenever my spirit suffered a midnight nightmare about the roaring fire, my ears would hear every single mocking word that Ayomide Okafor spat at my face before leaving my body to burn to death inside the Crimson Moon Tower. Our veins carried twin blood from the same mothe