Blue Bloods Sins Of The Father Mga Nobela at Kwento

Blade stands up and says, “I’ll see if there’s anything else I can discover with her.” I murmur, “Thank you.” He walks out of the office and I groan as the door shuts behind him. I need to speak to our father over this new addition and I’m not sure how well that will go over. Our father, Julian Ambrose, is very… old school. He worked hard in keeping our blood line pure to guarantee the best and most powerful vampires. He thinks that’s the way everyone should do. He’s not going to be happy about a half-blood staying here. Especially because I think she has potential. I think he’ll find it threatening that someone else can be so powerful.

I asked through gritted teeth, my hands curled into fists. “Brooks might have been a good father to you, but he wasn’t a good man. He betrayed his people, his alpha, the moment he became a spy for Klaus’s mother. Your father helped her kill my father.” “How could you be so sure? What if it was set up so he could take the blame for it?”.

It was also the reason that the packhouse screamed of old money. Sapphira simply nodded through the entire exchange. Luckily, no one else seemed to have been listening to their conversation. But that didn't mean that the Alpha hadn't told anyone else of his suspicions, like his Beta. Sapphira glanced towards Beta Declan and Kate, but they were busy feeding each other much to their son's apparent disgust.

Her lips twisted into a sneer as she turned to me. And then… I saw it. Contempt. “I thought you were smarter than this,” she said coldly. “But clearly, you’re not.” But it wasn’t Kylie who spoke. It was the man pretending to be my useless father. He stepped closer, staring at me with those… those blue eyes. And somehow, they looked… Familiar. Like the ocean once reflected in them. No. Impossible. He was dead. Gone. Killed. Thrown off the cliff.

I let out a breath of amusement, "You seem well." "Shut up! You think I don't know why you are keeping me in here? Locked up like a prisoner in my own home?!" again severe coughing filled the room. "You are protecting your mother's murderer—" "She didn't kill mama, Pops, her father did. We are not defined by the sins of our fathers. The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son." I recited the Bible's verse.

I grabbed my head which was threatening to split. "So, you mean if I hadn't cut ties with my pack that day, I wouldn't face the truth today…” “Even if all that didn't happen, I believe one way or another your hidden self will surface and you'll still face this day.” “What exactly am I?" I asked, fed up with all his explanations. My dad sighed, "You are a blue blood because your birth mother came from the lineage of blue bloods." He answered. “Who exactly are these blue bloods?” I mumbles.

Lukas announced, his eyes blazing with triumph, "until you cleanse yourselves of the half-breed's stain." "You... you..." My father staggered to his feet, his body swaying. Suddenly, he clutched his chest, his face turning deathly pale. "Father!" I rushed to catch him, feeling his Alpha spirit shatter. A pureblood's power comes from the purity of their bloodline. The accusation of betraying it was tearing him apart from the inside. "Take… take me home…" he gasped. I brought my father back to our pack lands. "Kristina, how is Father?"

Before I could respond one of the guards came running up and said "Alpha Ryder we found something in the basement and you need to see it right away." We followed the guard down to the basement and when we got there I saw what had him so alarmed because written on the wall in what looked like blood were the words "the sins of the father will be visited upon the sons" and underneath it was a list of names and at the top of that list were Cain, Jax and me.

As Vincenzo watched, the next guy took the blade from Dante, and a small frown appeared on his face. “Dante, I forgot how cruel you can be sometimes…” He thought to himself. “Right now, you are acting like him, the man you despised the most, because of the exact same reason…” He added. “The two of you are truly father and son.” The second man chopped off his own pinky finger and then passed the blade to the man next to him as he cried from pain. “You’re next.”

Why don’t they just die instead of him? During the last day of his wake, I remembered how some people gossiped about Dad. They chatted about my father being a careless policeman—who was incompetent not to lead an entrapment operation and clear a hostage-taking scene at his hands. It was actually what made me cry. Dad was already buried six feet below the ground, but instead of being honored, he was still criticized. No one should be blamed for what happened, but the holdupper himself. The one who committed the crime with threat and violence. The one who killed my father!