Daughter Destroyed Novels & Stories

Our father, Eses, the God of Skies, was clearly surprised to hear what my sister and I said. "Are you sure? You two have followed Guerrian and Dexaldir everywhere since childhood." "We're sure, Father." When we left the Celestial Palace with the imperial decree in hand, my sister and I finally lost the composure that we had been forcing ourselves to keep. We hugged each other. My sister, Azena, wiped away my tears. "Bydona, don't cry. This is our chance at revenge."

It wasn't a question, but Catalina nodded anyway. "I'm Carmen." The woman's smile was tired. "My daughter was in the Bogotá facility. They took her three years ago. Said she was special, that they needed to run tests." Her voice cracked slightly. "I haven't seen her since." "I'm sorry," Catalina said, because what else could she say?

Ayla was blonde, a blonde so light it looked like silver in the sun. But they talked about a woman as well, but I don’t remember ever meeting Alex and Asher's mother. And to ask about her was out of the question. I made a mental note to talk with my parents when we got home. Could Ayla be related to Alpha Adam? Is she a daughter from the Blue Moon Pack? But why would a man like Adam send his daughter away? What could have been so wrong for him to have to? Or is all this just my imagination?

You are mine. Light bursts behind my eyelids — white, blinding, endless. I fall. Or rise. Or both. When the flames fade, they find nothing but ash and shattered bindings. The pyre still smolders, but the body is gone. Lucia’s triumphant expression shatters. Damien stumbles forward, eyes wide, searching the ashes as if his mind refuses to accept what he’s seen. My father’s face drains of color. “She’s been burnt to ashes,” someone breathes.

Chaos swallowed everything—shouts, smoke, the deafening roar of gunfire. Valeria clutched her daughter, heart pounding, while Ares rose like a storm, firing back with deadly precision. Damien slipped through the chaos, retreating into the shadows with a smirk. His voice carried back, taunting, “This isn’t over. You’ll never beat me.” And then he was gone. Silence followed the storm, broken only by the groans of wounded men. Valeria’s daughter sobbed into her chest, trembling uncontrollably. Valeria held her tighter, whispering soothing words she barely believed herself.

One by one, they all recounted their memories and shared what the late Eric Damian had meant to them, until it was Clara's turn to speak. "I have shed countless tears, yet I refuse to let them fall once more. I never knew a love like this could exist. You, Dad, opened my eyes to the true essence of love. Love means fighting, fighting for those we hold dear. I do not wish to succumb to tears because I want to embody strength, just as you did for the ones you cherished. You protected your loved ones with unwavering determination, with your very life. You safeguarded and fought for your friends and family, and I aspire to follow in your footsteps. But it wasn't just your family and friends you

His chest heaved as his eyes darted around the wreckage. “Fuck,” he hissed. A maid stumbled forward, trembling, tears streaming down her face. “M-Master Damian…” she sobbed. He grabbed her shoulders, his voice sharp. “Where’s Aurora? Where’s my daughter?!” The maid shook violently, choking on her words. “They… they took them. They took Madam Catherine too. She killed one of them, and they…” She broke down into sobs. Damian’s fist slammed into the wall, cracking the plaster. “Goddammit!” He yanked out his phone, dialing with shaking fingers.

The Culling Spire let out a sound like a world-ending crack of thunder, and the deletion beam hit the tower’s spire, turning the steel into vapor. The pack—the scrappers, the inland workers, the men and women who had built a future in the mud—screamed as the gray dust of their lives began to rise into the air. My daughter’s eyes turned a blinding, absolute violet, her processing core initiating the final, desperate manual remote-wipe of the continent. I grabbed the child, I grabbed my gear, and I stared at the man who had been my wolf, my engine, and my heart. "Dante—!"

A voice slithers from the dark. Unknown Voice (hollow, female): "You cry of choice. But choice is an illusion. You carry a weapon meant to undo empires." Ceres (defiant): "She's not a weapon. She's our daughter." Unknown Voice: "She was never yours alone. The fire claimed her long ago. She is the echo of two wars. The fuse to a third." Xavier (growling): "Then we'll shatter the flame itself if that's what it takes." Unknown Voice:

This wasn't the woman who had once been a brilliant researcher on the verge of a medical breakthrough. With hands that still shook, I removed the red silk gown, letting it pool at my feet like a pool of blood. I stepped out of it and kicked it aside, watching as it settled into a heap on the bathroom floor. Tomorrow, I will burn it. But tonight, I had to focus on what was important, on the daughter who needed me to be strong, even when I felt like I was shattering into a million pieces.