Spirit Animals Book 1 Wild Born Novels & Stories

Whispering, “Daughter of the sun, holder of its light. You will be the spirit of the day, but will take the nature of the dark.” Sealing the first that represents the golden flame, a spirit is born. “Daughter of the moon, holder of its darkness. You will be the spirit of the night, but will take the nature of the dark.” Blowing the soul and blessing of life and security, the spirit twins are born, as the pages of the book flip and end into that particular page. The words that are written are being echoed, with his words, as he reads. “THE SPIRITS: HANNAH LYN MIOKI

I was born on earth and I am a human being…* *Yeah… you are… and a very courageous one at that… I have been waiting for centuries for a human being to be courageous and adventurous enough so that I could manifest in them.* *What do you mean by centuries-old? How old are you?* *Ha…ha…ha…ha.. I am wolf spirit, Vivian. I am neither born nor do I die, I merely change the bodies when my host dies…* A shudder coursed through her and she said *Whoah! That is scary…*

She smiled and shook her head. “You have an unusual spirit animal, sister. I can sense how close he is to you. Soon, your enemies will wish they had killed you before you could grow so strong.” Clarissa blinked. The statement confused her. How would Centra know about her spirit animal or how close they were? If he was ‘unusual,’ what kind of an animal was he? The book's cover, ‘familiars and their partners’, came back to her. The word familiar had excited Mimi.

I asked myself in my head, my mind racing. Turning the page, the book revealed more about fox spirits, their abilities, similar to werewolves but they were far stronger, depending on the number of their tails. They could generate fire or lightning from their mouth or tails, shapeshift, possess a person’s body and create illusions to manipulate and outsmart their opponents.

She pushed that down deep, sipping from stored bags in the fridge. Rain hammered the windows that Tuesday night. Lydia sat at her desk, sorting through a box of new books. One caught her eye: Spirits of the Wild: Bindings and Releases. The cover was cracked leather, smelling like dirt and old forests. She flipped it open, her fingers brushing over faded words in some ancient tongue. "Just a peek," she told herself. Curiosity burned in her chest. She read the spell aloud, soft and quick, like testing a locked door. The air changed. It got heavy, like before a storm. Candles on the shelves flickered wild, shadows dancing on the walls. A rumble started low, from the book itself. Lydia's hands s

The air crackled with the energy of accumulated knowledge, and the scent of aging parchment filled their senses. Row upon row of ancient tomes lined the shelves, their spines bearing the weight of forgotten stories. As the pack members carefully selected books, the whispers of the past danced in their ears, beckoning them to discover the truths hidden within. Rachel immersed herself in a book that revealed the ancient migration patterns of creatures long gone, tears of both joy and sorrow streaming down her face. She felt connected to the spirits of those who came before, their journeys echoing through her own soul. Sarah found a volume that chronicled the lost art of communication with the

more he did not know. Realistically, she had looked too comfortable pretending to be human for it to be an external party that dosed her; even the sheer gall she had to run from him hinted at her desperation to escape him, yet… that couldn’t be it. That shouldn’t be it; she shouldn’t have been taking toxins to stunt her abilities, abilities that would solidify her position in the pack…in any pack. “What other abilities does a spirit born have?” “Textbook wise, high regeneration, high purification and some mention seer abilities, like they can peer into the future through dreams, but it is not-.”

“They tampered with forces beyond their understanding. Why should we intervene?” Evelyn raised her chin, her voice unwavering. “Because they are innocent. They are children, drawn into darkness by this cursed book. Punish me if you must, but help them.” The spirits exchanged glances, their forms shifting in the ethereal light. Finally, the seventh spirit, shrouded in a dark mist, stepped forward. Its voice was deep and resonant. “We will assist them, but know this: the path they walk is not ours to alter. They must prove their worth to survive.”

Born and Returned. Richard stopped dead. The folder slipped from his hand, hitting the wet earth with a muffled thud. He didn't pick it up. He stared at the stone. His chest began to heave, his breathing coming in shallow, ragged hitches. "She was the first one out," I said. I knelt down. I pulled a few weeds away from the edge of the granite. I laid the lilies down. "She was smaller than Henry. Fragile. The healers called her a Spirit-Wolf. Too much of the moon in her blood, not enough of the earth."