Who Feels It Knows Novels & Stories

“I can’t describe it. I’ve never sensed it before. It’s like... a conscious mind with no thoughts.” Aaron felt hopeful for a moment. Was it possible Cadence was still with them but wasn’t fully capable of thinking yet? “It ain’t her, though,” Heather said from behind Elliott. “I can feel it, too. But whoever it is, it ain’t Cadence.” “No, you’re right, it’s not. But it is weird....”

"The specific kind that knows exactly what it did and isn't trying to argue with itself about whether it's justified." He was quiet for a moment. "Is it…." He paused. "Can you feel it constantly? Everything?" "I don't know yet," I said. "It's new." I looked at our joined hands on my stomach. "Can you feel me?" "Yes," he said. Immediately. "Since the moment it formed. I felt…." He stopped. Started again. "I felt your grief when you came through that door. Before I saw your face. I already knew."

Letting it be. "I should not have been surprised by the depth of the fear," I said. "I have been aware of what he means to me, what all three of you mean to me, for a long time. But knowing something and feeling its full weight are different things. I believe I have told you that before." "You have," she said. "In the meadow." "I seem to keep learning it in new registers." "Tell me what the weight felt like," she said. Not to fill the silence. Because she genuinely wanted to know.

He had not been used against his will or his knowledge. "When the first breach opened," he said, "I felt it respond. The thing inside me. It resonated the way a bell resonates when you strike the right note near it. I did not activate anything. I did not do anything. I just felt it respond and I knew it and I did not have a name for what I was knowing." "Why did you not tell me," I said. He was quiet for a moment. "What would I have said," he said. "I have felt something inside me my entire life and I do not know what it is. Would you have kept me in my post."

And I know it. Not the way you know facts or spells or things people teach you. More like the way you know your own name when someone says it behind you, even before you turn around. Then there’s a voice in my head. Not my wolf. Not instinct, not that messy gut-feeling kind of knowing. This is clearer. Heavier. Calm in a way that makes my stomach twist. It doesn’t yell. It doesn’t rush. It just says, very simply, This is because of him.

Kelly stared up at me, her eyes still wide, “No! She knows who you really are! What you really are!” “How is that possible?” Blake’s concern shifted from his mate to me with those few words. I shrugged, “It’s not. Everyone who knows, I’ve had to tell them and give their wolf permission to show them.” “She definitely knows,” Kelly nodded to herself. “How can you tell? I thought empaths felt the emotions of others, not hear their thoughts.” “It’s beyond the love she feels for you like a daughter, there’s that same awe and reverent worship that everyone else who knows feels towards you.” She whispered it like it was a secret she was loath to share.

“But something’s wrong.” He doesn’t hear me. Or maybe he does. I don’t know. That’s the problem. I don’t know anything anymore. And somehow— That feels worse than before.

Attention gathers organically, cautious but curious. “I know you’ve heard things,” I say when enough eyes are on me. “About what’s changed. About what hasn’t.” A murmur ripples through the group. “I won’t pretend everything feels the same,” I continue. “It doesn’t. But I won’t tell you that makes it dangerous either.” A woman steps forward slightly. “He said the land listens to you now. That if you’re angry, we’d feel it.” The land hums — not in reaction, but in recognition of the fear beneath the question.

I thought about it honestly. "I'm not afraid," I said. "Which surprises me because the situation is genuinely dangerous and getting more complicated by the hour." I paused. "I think it's because every time something arrives I can feel exactly what it is. I can feel the shape of it. And understanding what something is makes it less frightening than the unknown." "What does the Council feel like?" he said.

As blind people, we are directed to places we would never want to go. "Geez, I don't quite understand you. – Into the point. I don't understand either, so it's hard for me to convey this strange feeling to you. Perhaps no one understands. There are those who think he knows something. There are those who know nothing like me. In any case, they are mistaken. – Then you, too, are mistaken about your strange feeling. "Of course I'm wrong about him. However, I am not mistaken in one thing-it is.