You Can't Save Everyone Novels & Stories

"We saved them but someone still died and I keep thinking that if I'd been faster or smarter or better then maybe he'd still be alive." "Or maybe you'd be dead instead. Or maybe we all would be." His hand found mine. "You can't save everyone. No one can." "Then what's the point? Why do we keep doing this if people die anyway?" "Because more people live than die. Because the alternative is doing nothing and letting all of them suffer." He squeezed my hand. "You're not responsible for every bad thing that happens just because you couldn't prevent it."

I say without hesitation. "I need you to promise me that you won't go and be a hero." When I open my mouth to object, he hurries on. "I'm just saying, there's going to be a very real possibility that we're going to lose these people out there on the road, and I don't want you getting yourself killed because you think you can save them. It's one of the first lessons I ever learned, and it happens to be the harshest, too. You can't save everyone. Remember that." "Ryder-"

I spat out a mouthful of blood and winced as I turned my head toward the passenger seat. Upon seeing Keaton Rourke wedged between the airbag and the seat, I ground out, "You disabled the airbag, didn't you?" He looked at me like he wanted me dead. He ignored my question, raised an eyebrow, and smirked. "Hate to break it to you, but even with you bleeding out, Teresa will still come to me first." I hunched over in pain, clutching my stomach with both hands. My vision was blurring, and I could barely keep my eyes open, but I still had to defend Teresa Bellamy. "She is my wife. There is no way she would save you before me."

" The members of the pack rushed forward, pinning me to the ground. Their fists rained down on me mercilessly. Through the pain, I looked up at Leo with red eyes and found that his face was filled with hesitation as Jasmin clung tightly to his arm. I didn't owe him anything anymore. Seven years ago, he saved my life and loved me with all his heart since then. But all of that—all the love, all the memories—had been shattered under their fists. Cayden sobbed desperately. He grabbed onto Leo's pant leg and suddenly dropped to his knees. "Uncle—no, Alpha Leo! I was wrong! Please, I beg you, stop hurting my mommy!"

This girl, whoever she is, we cannot let her die. We have to save her. ***

He exhales slowly, as if the effort costs him more than breath should. “I feel like if I don’t do something,” I say quietly, “it means I failed.” Kieran’s gaze doesn’t leave the man. “That belief,” he says, “is how people break themselves.” He turns to me fully then. “You cannot save everyone,” he continues. “And you are not meant to. If you try, you will learn to measure your worth by absence instead of presence.” The words settle, heavy but clean. “You don’t protect life by erasing yourself,” he adds. “You protect it by remaining whole.”

Dane exchanged glances with Kane before saying, "We can leave. We can take the villagers with us and find somewhere safe. Our father has enough resources to give them land, protection, and a chance to start over." I shook my head. "And what about the humans?" Kane shrugged. "You can’t save everyone, Sierra. No matter how hard you try." I swallowed, my mind spinning. I had spent so much time fighting, trying to protect this place, these people. But what if they were right? What if all this was for nothing? I sighed, feeling the weight of my choices pressing down on me. "I don’t know if I can just walk away." Dane’s expression softened slightly. "Maybe it’s time to consider that some battles a

"We're not the type to watch the world burn and do nothing." "Aren't we?" Walter looked at all of us. "We've been doing exactly that. Every world we've passed through, we left other deadies behind. Left them to face the game alone while we survived. How is this different?" "It's different because we can actually do something about it now," I said. "Before, we were just trying to survive. Now we have a chance to save everyone." "A small chance," Walter corrected. "With massive risk. If we fail, we don't just die. We doom everyone."

"Oh, but I am. Scary enough that you're questioning yourself. Doubting. Wondering what your breaking point is." "I don't have one. Not where Hope is concerned." "Everyone has one. Yours is quite simple actually. Want to know what it is?" "Not particularly." "It's choice. You can't stand making impossible choices. Choosing who lives and who dies. Who to save and who to sacrifice. That's your weakness. Your fatal flaw." "Everyone hates those choices." "But you're paralyzed by them. Remember Jude? You couldn't decide whether to save him or protect Hope. So you tried both. Nearly got everyone killed."

"To save forty children who would have died. That's what. Not theory. Not abstract good. Real children. Real lives. Real difference." "At what cost? What if one of our kids had been shot? Killed? Would saving those orphans be worth losing Elena? Arthur? Gabriel?" "That's not fair. We took precautions. Had security. Made it through safely. Everyone survived." "This time. This time everyone survived. What about next time? When we're not so lucky? When precautions aren't enough? When we sacrifice our family for strangers?" Dante stood. Paced. Frustrated. "They're not strangers. They're humans. Children. People who deserve help. Who deserve to be saved. We have resources. Capability. Privilege.