The Inner Voice Book Novels & Stories

In that instant, her timid inner voice spoke to me: "It looks like I've misunderstood Daniella's actions today… I wonder if she can forgive me. "I was so panicked at the time that I couldn't see straight. My own ignorance caused me to misjudge her. I hope she won't be upset…" Although doubt pricked at me, I brushed off her inner voice and continued to eat. Meanwhile, Heidi stayed by my side. She licked her lips, caught between wanting to speak and holding back. "That peach looks so delicious… I really want to try some…" her inner voice whispered. Hearing this, memories from my past life came rushing back. Back then, I had unknowingly given her a bite of peach after listening to her inner voi

"No, silly. Tell me why." "Hmm. It was an impulse buy. I was hurt, feeling rejected, and I wanted to regain control. I wanted to feel power over my own life. I wanted to reengineer myself. I was always the good girl growing up, but there was a part of me I stifled, kept deep inside, but she wanted out. She's a little hussy. When she starts talking to me, she usually gets her way." I wink at him so he knows I'm playing. We all have that internal voice, most people call it a conscious, I just gave mine a title. "Anyway, when I saw the bike, I knew that was the first step in letting her have some visibility to see what she could do with me in the world. She hasn't helped my career, but I sure a

Of louder lives teeming with breathless sagas and lessons well-learned. “It’s a common fear, that.” He took a step into the room. “Especially with those who appear quiet at first glance but live their lives loudly on the inside.” A small smile. Another step. “Oftentimes, and this is what I’ve found, visiting someone else’s story can give one the courage to find their voice. To share their own tales.” He clasped his hands in front of him, the fingers laced into fists resting below his hips. “To write their own books.”

By the third day, the inner thoughts hadn't faded at all. If anything, they grew sharper and clearer. As long as someone came within a few feet of me, their raw, unfiltered thoughts would automatically channel into my brain. When the cashier at the grocery store scanned the items in my shopping cart, they forced a tight smile. [Why the fuck is it so crowded today?] A neighbor glanced at the grocery bags in my arms. [Poor thing. She cooks dinner for the Alpha every night, but he never comes home.]

“It ends now.” The eye pulsed under my fingers like a giant heartbeat. Then— Everything froze. No smoke. No wind. No Rowan struggling. No battlefield sounds. Just a silent, heavy calm. And a voice. Not out loud. Inside my head. Right inside my freaking head. And I knew it was not mine. It didn’t sound like me. “Chosen child,” it whispered. “Do not destroy me.” My skin tingled. My heart stumbled. The voice wrapped around my mind like warm water sliding down my spine—calm, gentle, sweet, wrong.

The forgotten rhythm had found a new heart. It whispered, not to Mira this time, but to the space between dreams: > I learned from your silence. Now, let me speak. The world shivered. --- End of Chapter 18 – Imperfect Eden Next: Arc II, Chapter 19 – “The Voice Between Dreams.” A presence begins reaching out to mortals in their sleep, weaving shared dreams across continents. Mira recognizes its tone—it’s the same “voice” she once was inside someone else’s body. But this time, she’s on the outside of the possession.

… Three days later, I was discharged from the hospital, holding my baby in my arms. Ever since he was born, I had never heard the child's voice in my head again. Instead, he was obedient and sweet—nothing like the thing that had spoken from my womb before. The difference was night and day. As for why, I had known the answer all along. That elderly man I had run into on the road had said, "This life doesn't belong to you! You must leave at once!" Those words were never meant for me. They were meant for the thing inside my belly.

That’s when I heard it— a voice. Not from outside… but from inside me. One word, soft but electric. Mate.

Perhaps she'd given a hint on who murdered her in cold blood when the person hadn’t been caught. As I opened the first page, I heard a voice in my head. But it wasn't my wolf talking to me. The voice was incoherent, but it sounded like a warning. I ignored it and started reading until the voices grew so loud that I had to drop the book to maintain focus.

Like I was a mistake he hadn’t expected to return. So I left. Without a word. Because if I stayed, I was afraid I’d beg. And I was done being that kind of woman. --- Right before dawn, the voice came again. Not from outside. From inside. I was sitting against the wall when something brushed against the inside of my chest—light, like tiny fingers tapping gently beneath my skin. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. But then came the sound. Soft. Muffled. Strangled. > “Mom…”