Spirit Crossing: A Novel Novels & Stories

Now, all at once, it hit me that everything I had given over the years had been nothing more than a one-sided effort. I was just about to book a flight when I realized I had forgotten my ID and passport, so I had no choice but to return home. The moment I opened the door, I was greeted by a mess all over the floor. Leftover snacks were scattered everywhere, along with half-finished dishes left behind. Right by the bedroom door lay something impossible to miss—a box of levonorgestrel pills and a piece of wine-red lingerie. Willow had never liked being physically intimate with me. Even Naomi's existence had come from a drunken incident.

I lift her to hold her while Damen and Sam sit back down on the sofa. Wanting to hold her more and truly never let her go, I take her seemingly exhausted body fully into my arms and sit between Damen and Sam. “What happened,” Sam asks Trinity. “I saw glimpses of death and destruction in her mind. It was incredibly painful. Then, there was a bright light and after a void.” Trinity says while rubbing his goatee. “Bridges are rare, to begin with. During the reincarnation process for many souls, they have the choice of which soul path they want to try to succeed on.

I used my learnings to become a better architect and I tried different things I never thought were part of me; things that I started to like after my travel. That night, I went to a club alone. I didn't tell anyone. I wanted to be alone. I was not the usual life of the party. Clubs suddenly felt like a lonely place. "I'll have tequila please," I told the bartender. When the bartender left, my phone vibrated. checked who was calling. It was Joshua Lopenac. "Hey!" I welcomed joyfully. "Where are you? Your background is too loud." "Just having fun somewhere!" I shouted so he can hear me.

Secretly I wished that the rest of our years together will be this blissful, and I hoped the goddess would grant me this last wish. Thank you for reading this book. Thank you for your votes and support it was highly encouraging. Though the book is dark, I hope it entertained you. You can read about the Clearsands of the White moon pack in the same world as Samantha and Alex in "My Alpha, Her Mate" on GoodNovel. You can read Surviving The Dark the final series in My Alpha, Her Mate, on goodnovel. Samantha and Alex are very active in the story. It starts after chapter 123. Thank you for your support and love.

For the first time since the alley, I let myself breathe. Maybe we were safe. Just for tonight. But even as I laid Cruz gently on a stack of old tarps, my heart refused to calm. The silence was still too heavy, too unnatural. It was the silence before the storm. And storms never ended quietly. I pressed a rag against Cruz’s side, trying not to flinch at the blood seeping through. “Stay with me,” I whispered. “Please.” He hissed softly, eyes half-closed. “I’m not going anywhere, Nova. Stop looking at me like I’m already gone.”

Seeing him close the trunk, I prepared to get in my car and leave. But he stepped forward to block my path again. This time, he grabbed my wrist, despite the motor oil on his hands. "Let go!" I was getting impatient, but I couldn't break free. Victor's eyes burned intensely as he said in a low voice, "Claire, I have something to say. Please give me a little time."

The book club ladies were in fine form this afternoon. Margaret Thompson sat primly on the floral couch in a rented out space close to the library, a half-empty teacup balanced on her knee, her Bible study notes open on the coffee table. The conversation had started with the latest Christian fiction novel — something about redemption and resisting temptation — but it had drifted, as it always did, into more personal territory. Gossip dressed up as prayer requests. “Speaking of temptation,” one of the women said, lowering her voice with dramatic concern, “have you heard what’s going around about that poor Thompson boy?”

Straight into me. The collision wasn’t physical—it was spiritual. My body seized, my vision blurring into light and dark as two halves of me collided again. I heard voices—mine, hers, the god’s, all overlapping. You are one. You are two. You are the bridge. Pain lanced through me. Edward’s shout pierced the chaos, but his words didn’t reach me. I was falling inward, trapped inside my own soul. I saw flashes of both selves—one filled with compassion and doubt, the other with ruthless determination. Both wanted the same thing: control.

His forehead leans on mine, eyes shut tight. “Tell me,” he says, the words a rough whisper against my lips. “All of it. Who you are. Where you came from. No more shadows.” So I do. Shoulders brush as we perch there, staring into the flames. Firelight flickers when I start talking about Sandra. The bridge comes up next, then how icy the river felt, one book looping in my head before everything went dark. Waking happens slow - wrong skin, wrong name, knowing every step ahead leads to blood and lies. Four empty years pass between us now, time spent seeing each twist arrive like someone chained down, waiting.

Just kept her hand there, grounding me. "Because of this weight you carry, you locked away all your feelings. All your potential. In your last life, the most painful thing was having no choice but to watch you become so crooked." Her fingers ran through my hair softly. "It's time for you to finally forgive yourself, Jack Spencer." "How can I?" I asked, throat tightening again. "If God can, you should too." That broke me.