Daniel Martin Book Novels & Stories

I noticed Daniel beside me. “Yeah, I'm just taking a minute to get myself together. Being shot at and all,” I said. He nodded and left. I closed the door loudly and faced Daniel, “now speak.” “I won't tell you about your parents but I will tell you about Martin,” he said. “Yeah, my supposed brother,” I eyed him. “He has been tracking this group of people for a long time and I believe he has their names and their faces,” he said and I looked at him confused.

He ran his fingers along the spines of the oldest books, scanning for anything that might tell him about Daniel’s past. His pulse thundered in his ears. And then—he found it. A book with no title. Its leather cover blackened, scorched, as if it had barely survived a fire. Rigel opened it. And his breath stopped. There—written in ink so dark it looked like dried blood—was the story of Daniel’s past life. A prince. A warrior. A cursed being, feared and revered in equal measure. And a betrayal that had led to his fall. A name.

Martin looked like he was caught off guard, and he began to stutter. “I—I am not suggesting anything. I was just asking a harmless question,” Martin argued, but the look on his face said otherwise. “I don't care about what you think, ask, or say,” Daniel began, his voice coming out in a whisper. “But don't ever tell me a gay joke and don't even think of being homophobic beside me! Okay?” Martin swallowed, clearly taken aback by Daniel’s tone. “O-okay… I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered, looking away.