Strength To Strength Novels & Stories

I whispered. His eyes narrowed. “That’s bullshit. They’re one and the same.” “No. No, they aren’t.” I swallowed hard, holding that bond so gently, but so desperately. “Because power… power is about other people. Who you can order around. Who you can influence. But strength… strength is who you are. Cazz… You don’t lose it no matter how powerless you might be in the eyes of others. And you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

“Then why⁠ does it feel like failur‌e⁠?” “Bec⁠ause​ yo‍u‍’v‍e‌ spent years being⁠ the​ st​rong on⁠e. The one who‍ h⁠ol‌ds​ everyone toget​her. But s​ustainable​ s⁠trength in⁠cludes knowing your limits.” ​She’s pro‌ba‌bly right. But‌ k​nowing and imp‍lementing ar⁠e d‌i‌f‌fe​rent thin⁠gs.⁠

She leans in, emphasizing each word with a gentle but firm touch. "You need to understand that your strength lies not only in yourself but in each other. Together, you form a formidable team that can overcome any obstacle. Fighting against the world may seem daunting, but fighting against it with the person you love by your side is a different story. It's a story of resilience, of triumph over adversity, and of the enduring power of true love. You only feel weak because you have no one watching your back; you're refusing to let anyone have your back." Her words hit too close to home, and maybe that's all because they're true. All this time, the real problem has been me.

I insisted, “I’m not helpless.” Grey backed off, though he wasn’t happy about it. He stayed an arm’s length away as I hobbled towards the door. Roam brought up the rear, toting the bag of supplies. I kept hearing him grunt with displeasure as I moved slowly, as I tried to hide my tensing and wincing. I was on the verge of tears and perhaps screaming. Perhaps I had been a bit too hasty on my refusal of pain medications. “There is a difference between having strength and being strong, Rabbit. Anyone can be strong, but not everyone has strength. Strength is knowing when to let others help carry the weight on your shoulders.”

“Like we’re equals!” “That’s weakness,” he growled, his eyes narrowing as once again slivers of black bled into them. “I can’t afford weakness.” “Wrong,” I countered, meeting his gaze head-on. “That’s what makes you stronger. You face your fears because only by facing them can you overcome them. You know that.” I took a brave step toward him, surprising even his wolf. “True strength is getting shit done because you’ve found something that’s more important than the shit holding you back. It’s doing what you know you have to do even when you’re scared. Strength isn’t the absence of weakness, Zane! It’s overcoming fear, doubt, and uncertainty that is a true testimony to one's strength!”

Some heads bowed; others just stared. "Strength," I began, my voice carrying cleanly over the yard, "isn't about rank. Or titles. Or bloodlines." A ripple went through the crowd—surprise, curiosity, maybe disbelief. "Strength is will," I said, scanning from the Omegas at the back to the warriors in the front. "It's the choice to stand when you're told to kneel. To keep fighting when everyone else has already decided you've lost." Somewhere in the third row, a young Omega lifted her chin. I caught it, smiled faintly, and continued.

It reminds me that she’s lived, fought, en⁠dured—just like I have. I‌ u⁠sed to think strength meant standing alone at the top of a gl⁠ass t‌ower.⁠ Bu‌t sitting here, surrounded by‌ half-empty glasses and the sm‍ell of rain,‍ I underst‌and i‌t’s som‍ethin‍g e‍lse‌ entire‍ly. Strength is this: a heartbeat pressed against yours, a re‌ason to stay when‍ the world pushes yo‍u to run⁠.

In the hallway, a board popped like an old joint remembering it used to run; somewhere, a night bird declared itself satisfied with the moon. “Tell me something true,” she said, drowsy, the way people ask for stories when they’re already halfway to dreaming. “I was wrong for a long time about what strength is,” I said, cheek to her hair. “I thought it was pushing through. Turns out it’s stopping, checking, asking, listening—and still being brave. You make that easy to want and hard to fake.” She hummed, pleased in a way that was deeper than pride. “Tell me something else.”

"How do you know?" "Because I know you. I have known you for three years. You are the most stubbornly loyal person I have ever met. Do you really think some hypnotic suggestion from a dead madman is stronger than that?" A sound escaped Priya's throat that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "I do not feel very strong right now." "Strength is not about how you feel. It is about what you do. And right now, you are fighting back against something that was designed to be irresistible. That is strength."

She gives me a moment to ponder her words. Am I strong? I’ve always viewed strength as something you measure physically, not mentally or emotionally, and even then I still feel I’m weaker than most people. Yet, I have Chris, Setia and so many others trying to tell me I’m a strong person, but I don’t know if I am. I want to believe what they all are saying, but I think it’s going to take more time before that happens.