The Healing Choice Book Novels & Stories

“The fire chose you. That means something. To them. To me.” She shook her head, trying to understand, trying to breathe. “I didn’t choose this.” “I know.” He stepped closer, eyes searching hers. “But I did,” he said. “I chose you.” The words hit her like lightning—sharp, unexpected. Real. A beat passed. Then another. “I don’t know if I can survive this,” she admitted. “I don’t know who I’m becoming.” Aiden’s hand lifted slowly, gently brushing her hair back from her face. His touch was warm, grounding her.

Celia began softly, her voice raspy, “this place… It’s suffocating you. Every hallway whispers Zayn’s name, every glance reminds you of what could’ve been. You’ll never heal here.” Jada’s eyes dropped to her hands. The ache in her chest deepened. Celia reached over, her thin fingers curling around her daughter’s wrist. “Go abroad. Enroll in one of the programs I’ve been arranging for you. Leave this weight behind. Start fresh.” Jada’s lip trembled. “And leave you?”

He only glanced away when I looked at him. He nodded in satisfaction and put on white medical gloves before going behind me. "Now, we'll begin the first step." Before I was ready, he popped out from behind me. "Doctor!" I grabbed his hand reflexively to stop him. "Let go," he said. His breath blew on my ear, feeling hot and scalding. My ears were burning, and I didn't even have to see myself to know that I had turned bright red. I had no choice but to put my hands down obediently while Nicholas continued pressing with his hands.

She just shakes her head and His hand moves to her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone. How old were you when you go out? She looks deep into his eyes and says out of the gun running and cooking 16 but out of all of it not until I was 21 but I didn’t really start healing until I was 35 that’s when I finally found true recovery and worked on my mental health and trauma. Val holds her there, suspended in the quiet of his office. 19 years of healing, 19 years of building herself from rubble. His voice barely a whisper. You were broken for longer that you were whole and you still chose to help people, still chose to fight for purity in a dirty world.

It is a winding road, full of detours and delays. I share this insight with Kael. "I used to believe that everyone would embrace the bridge," I say. "That the light would spread and the shadows would fade. But I was wrong. The shadows are part of the whole. They are not enemies to be conquered. They are parts of ourselves to be understood." Kael studies my face. "And you understand them now?" "Better than I did before. I understand that healing is not a destination. It is a practice. A daily choice. And not everyone is ready to make that choice."

It was a winter afternoon, with light snow drifting through the air. I'd founded Cosmic Haven, a welfare center that provided psychological support and art education to disabled children. The center was currently having a small exhibition, and the walls were covered with the children's creative artworks. Some of the children had lost arms, while some were in wheelchairs. Yet every face was filled with genuine joy. I was crouched down, adjusting the hat of a young boy with a prosthetic limb. That was when a commotion broke out at the entrance. I turned to look and saw a woman in a worn-out coat being held back by security.

MIA I sit at my vanity staring at myself in the mirror. I don’t look different, but I feel different. I feel empowered. Fulfilled. I know my purpose now. I raise my hand and place my forefinger and thumb close together. Not touching. Tiny red and blue sparks dance between them. My healing. I look at my arm and trace the scars the Alpha gave me with my fingers. I take my palm and hover it down my arm. Red and blue sparks dance across it. The scars disappear and I smile.

"Then I am sorry, but you will have to suffer a little more! I will stay here to get this treatment..." "I know this is important, but why don't you do it at home....?" "Honey, we both know that's not possible... Besides, I don't want you to stay here. I need to focus on treatment so I can heal faster. You can't understand how much this hurts me! The fact that I can't hold my own child is killing me! That is not the person I want to be... I want to have a happy family and live well with my husband and baby! And I know I will never have that life if I can't heal and do better! I am responsible for Mateo coming into this life, so I have to be there for him, hug him when he is sad or in pain, p

She was making his life difficult by giving him favors on each step. "Whom you liked the most among your people?" Someone once asked him this question many hundred years ago. "H e a l e r s." He replied without even thinking. "W h y?" The person wanted to know the reason why he chose healers over every other individual that he ruled. Why not alphas or betas, lunas or omegas?

"Their stories, their grief, their hope. The watcher witnessed them. I wrote them down." Clara took the book. It was heavy, heavier than it looked, and warm to the touch. "This is important." Seren shook her head. "It is necessary. There is a difference." Clara smiled. "You always say that." "Because it is always true." Morwen leaned over and looked at the book. "The witnesses are the ones who stayed. The ones who chose to heal. That is what the world needs to know. That healing is possible." Seren nodded. "That is what I am trying to say."