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Chapter 8: The One I Didn’t Expect

ผู้เขียน: Flor
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-07-08 20:57:46

Lydia

I have heard nothing from my father for two weeks. Not a letter. Not a summons. Not even a courier with one of his vague, half-coded instructions.

And somehow, the silence feels louder than anything he’s ever said.

Every time my phone buzzes, I think it’s him. Every knock at the door has me leaping to my feet before logic can pull me back down.

But it’s never him. Just bills. Routine notices. Council dispatches.

Rina doesn’t ask, but I see it in her eyes. The way she glances at me over her mug of tea. The way she lingers a second too long when she says goodbye. She knows I’m spiraling, but she also knows I won’t talk until I’m ready.

And I’m not.

Because I don’t know what to say.

My father is hiding something.

I can feel it in my bones.

And if I’m being honest... I think Leonidas is part of it.

His name sits behind my teeth more often than I like to admit. The feel of his presence, his voice, the weight of his gaze; it lingers like smoke on fabric.

No new kills have
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  • When Monsters Mate   Chapter 10: We meet again

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  • When Monsters Mate   Chapter 8: The One I Didn’t Expect

    Lydia I have heard nothing from my father for two weeks. Not a letter. Not a summons. Not even a courier with one of his vague, half-coded instructions. And somehow, the silence feels louder than anything he’s ever said. Every time my phone buzzes, I think it’s him. Every knock at the door has me leaping to my feet before logic can pull me back down. But it’s never him. Just bills. Routine notices. Council dispatches. Rina doesn’t ask, but I see it in her eyes. The way she glances at me over her mug of tea. The way she lingers a second too long when she says goodbye. She knows I’m spiraling, but she also knows I won’t talk until I’m ready. And I’m not. Because I don’t know what to say. My father is hiding something. I can feel it in my bones. And if I’m being honest... I think Leonidas is part of it. His name sits behind my teeth more often than I like to admit. The feel of his presence, his voice, the weight of his gaze; it lingers like smoke on fabric. No new kills have

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