Father Names Novels & Stories

Natalie Grayson After all the excitement had died down, Nolan's father, who insisted on me calling him 'Father,' decided that he wanted to have a chat with me. With a reassuring squeeze, Nolan left me to have a one on one chat with his father. I could say my nerves were probably all over the place at the moment, then I also realized that my family had already gone inside and it was just me and him. I had completely forgotten Nolan's father's real name. I usually addressed him as Alpha, but now I felt stupid.

I smiled “yes, I would love to.” There was something about the way he pronounced my father’s name. It came with a cold and shiver, it felt forced and looked stiffed. “Now we are at it. How did you know my father’s name? How did you know my father?” He thought for a while. “Your father was well known. He was strong and brave but also stubborn. A trait I’m yet to see you exhibit.” He said.

Pops replied. “Do the Biblical names really run in the Vargas family?” My father chuckled and led us in before he answered her question. “My older brother, Nomy’s father is Nebuchadnezzar. Our father, their ‘Gramps,’ is Samuel. Nomy’s younger siblings are Nehemiah and Mary Esther.” “Wow,” was all the Detective could say and Pops left for the kitchen. She placed her mint handbag on the couch and we took seats around the dining table.

She did not want to create any kind of misunderstandings. Carter's eyes lit up at the question. He quickly swallowed the food in his mouth. "My daddy is called Don," he replied enthusiastically. "Don?" Natalie asked with widened eyes. Was that name meant of mafia kings and such? The child nodded his head continuously. "Yeap, I call him that. He is my Don!" Natalie chuckled. The child was definitely cute. "Why do you call him Don?" She asked. That name had a very different meaning. Carter smiled. "Because my daddy is the greatest of all daddies. My daddy is powerful, wealthy, and scared of nothing!"

“My father was actually a second son himself. His older brother died at the age of five. By that time my father was already born and named.” I grin, “And what is his name ?” "I'm afraid father wasn't nearly as lucky as I. My grandmother's maiden name was Petty.” He grins back at me. I clap my hand over my mouth, “Oh, dear. Oh, I shouldn't laugh.” “Yes, you should. We all did.” He chuckles. I can’t help but ask. “What did you call him?” "I called him Father. Everyone else simply calls him Blood, from the last name and also his wolf.”

His face was carved with restraint rather than cruelty, his expression unreadable in a way that suggested practice, not nature. This was not a man who learned power by shouting. This was a man who learned it by watching. His eyes swept the hall once, quick and assessing, noting exits, distances, people. When they passed over me, they did not linger. Good. I had learned that attention was rarely a gift. His father approached him with measured steps, pride stiffening his posture. They spoke briefly. There was no embrace. No warmth. Only acknowledgment. A transfer of weight from one generation to the next.

“Your father’s will didn’t say the baby had to come from your sperm. Just from my body. My vagina. That was his wording. Not yours.” Joel says nothing. His face goes hard. I push forward. “I can go to a sperm bank. There are plenty of healthy donors—” “No,” he snaps. “Absolutely fucking not. You think my family name—my legacy—is going to be passed down by some faceless rando from a sperm bank?” I shrug. “Why not? At least they’d probably treat me better.” He glares. “Don’t start.” I laugh bitterly. “Too late.”

I prayed he would not mention Rod's name. They do not know their father's first name, but they know the second one because I followed the same naming pattern for all my children based on Rod's second name. Cam James. "I have two dads," my child replied. I looked at Cam. I did not expect him to say that. "I have papa Symon and papa Euclid," he added. Perhaps we can leave now. They received the answer they were looking for. "But my real father's name is James." My eyes widened as I looked at CJ. Why did he say that?

"Nothing love. Nothing. Tell me about the names you've been thinking of." "Hardin!" "But that's my middle name." "Yeah. How about we give him the same middle name as you?" "I was thinking of giving him all my names and just adding Junior at the back. That's how first Borns are named here." "You mean your father's name was Kai Hardin Ansaldo?" "And my father's father and my father's father's father and the list goes on." "Wow! I… I'm speechless." "It's not a must though. If you think of a great name, we can name him that instead. We must not follow what the ancestors have been doing."

I snarl, and his face turns red. "What are your names," Father Jas asks before folding his arms and throwing off a few waves of authority. The males almost buckle under the impact, and I smirk at the sign of their blatant weakness. "I'm Greg," the third one says. "Marcus," Heather's boyfriend says. "Bryan," Bryan answers with a tone to his voice that makes my fathers raise their eyebrows.