Daniel Story Book Novels & Stories

The Hotel Years From the moment Daniel could read, he devoured knowledge like a starving child devours bread. Numbers came to him as easily as breathing. Words bent beneath his pen with clarity. Teachers whispered that he was destined for greatness, that one day he might even rise beyond the limits of his neighborhood, beyond the poverty etched into his family’s name. And for a time, Daniel believed them. He studied with a kind of hunger that outmatched even the pangs in his stomach. In his notebooks, he mapped dreams bigger than the walls of his classroom.

Sierra said as she pointed at the object. Alpha Daniel quickly closed the book. "Ah no, it's just an old book that belonged to my father." Sierra was not impressed by her brother's attitude, "I can tell when you're lying and when you're being honest, Daniel." Alpha Daniel was silent. Sierra always had an eye for detail. He took a deep breath before finally answering, "Well, it's an old book about the historical legends of our ancestors and various predictions of the future, and it has something to do with Clara and her baby."

Usually, before I go to sleep, Mommy always does it, but Mommy isn't here right now, so Uncle will read it to me instead," Daniel said. Daniel looked confused when Alea asked him to do this. "Emmh, the problem is that Uncle can't make up a story and retell it." Alea's face turned disappointed. "I'm sorry," Daniel said regretfully. Alea was silent, and then she noticed Daniel's broad chest. Then the boy immediately laid down on Daniel's chest. And the boy could not predict Alea's sudden movement. Feeling so comfortable on Daniel's chest, Alea gradually closed her eyes and fell asleep. Daniel's heart sank when he saw the adorable face of the little angel asleep. After kissing Alea's forehead,

Her laughter filled the dim room, but after a while, the conversation fizzled into comfortable silence. “Tell me a story,” she said suddenly. Daniel turned his head toward her. “Nope.” “What? Why not?” “Because,” he said with mock seriousness, “the only kind of stories I know are the kind that… might make things weird.” Her curiosity sharpened. “Weird how?” “They’re… naughty.” She grinned in the faint moonlight through the curtains. “I’m not a kid, Daniel. I can handle it.” He hesitated, eyes searching hers for a trace of doubt. Finally, he sighed. “Alright. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Starting from their adjoining class and their common hobby of borrowing books from the library, continuing to look for old books by their favorite authors. At that time Daniel did not have much time and references to read biographical or autobiographical books. Rania was the one who introduced him to that world. She always looks cheerful and has material for conversation that can pique Daniel's curiosity. In his youth Daniel was not the type of person who would often hang out with teenagers his age, due to his duties and responsibilities as the successor to a large company and being the first child of the Wyatt family, he was required to act more carefully and consider every choice he made.

She wished she could whisk him away and kiss him some more, drink in the light of his eyes to her content, but that would have to wait until he recovered and was stronger again. Having him here like this was enough for now. She couldn't ask for anything more from the Moon Goddess, if it was the goddess's hand indeed who had let her keep him. That dream, she remembered it so vividly even now. And Marten's haunting words that Daniel should never have made it this long without the cure -- no coincidence, was it? Daniel held a thick book and murmured things under his breath. Beth crept closer, curious. "What is that?" she asked. "What are you reading?"

“My name is Oliver.” “It is nice to meet you, Oliver.” Daniel crouched until they were almost the same height. “Would you like me to show you something?” Oliver glanced toward his parents before giving the smallest nod. “The library has a reading corner beside the lake.” “There are books?” “Hundreds.” Oliver’s eyes widened. “Hundreds?” Daniel laughed softly. “I have not counted them, but I think we are getting close.” The little boy finally released his mother’s hand. His parents watched him walk beside Daniel with visible relief, the sort that only appeared after weeks of carrying more worry than either of them had wanted to admit.

Says Daniel. “Why?” Lorenzo and I talked together. “I don't want anything big.” “But I didn't say it will be big. We will only call relatives and friends.” Daniel rolls his eyes. “How mature.” I say sarcastically and he looks at me seriously. I smile cynically and he laughs. When we finished dinner, Lorenzo said good night and went to his room, but first he spoke for us to behave. What the hell? Daniel called me to his room, said he was going to tell me the story of the busty blonde. I sat on the bed when he offered and looked around. I hadn't entered his room yet. It's tidier than mine...

"Well, Mr. Wannabe Superman, at least I don't try to act like that." Danial waved his hands dismissively. "Whatever fits your palette, normie." He then sat at his desk and resumed reading the Hellfire technique. Pavan stood beside him, noticing another book on the bed. "Hey, how did you get another book?" Danial replied without looking up, "Because I'm special... and because I asked the librarian and he said yes." Pavan groaned. "Ugh, You have to make it weird. And just to be clear, you're not special."

Daniel walked for hours around the city. He was determined to go anywhere other than back to the Bostonian. He had so many things running through his head. His father sends Wyatt to see if he can be saved and stop the war that both sides have been waiting for. Elizabeth and him having a son and he’s eleven, and his life's in the same danger as Elizabeths. Daniel just wanted to walk away from all of this. How he wished that it had been Wyatt that was Forsaken instead of him. He felt everything way too much to be cut out for this job. These twelve years of soul collecting. So many souls collected for a war that might never happen. So many people sacrificed for what.