Father Of Ultra Novels & Stories

Having never found a mate at 37, Turk really should be surveying these warriors. I want to have faith in my sons. I want them to make good decisions and I want them to follow me when they turn 23 as I followed my father. I remember the boys had just turned four when I took over. As a single father, I was underestimated. I believe I have risen to the challenge. The University was started by my Great-Grandmother. She was a teacher before mating to an Alpha. She wanted a place where Supernaturals could come together. According to her, it's hard to hate Uni Friends.

I look at him in confusion when he stands and paces the room. “My dad is responsible for the death of thousands of rogues, humans and wiped out packs. They wiped out the Dark Moon Pack.” I growl, you have got to be fucking kidding me! He is the son of Sampson Kingsley, the leader of the rogues who caused the fucking war. I place my hands on top of my head. Fuck! Oh, Gaia will fucking freak out. She will no doubt try to kill him for what his father did. Hold on, if Sampson was his father does that mean Crystal was his mom?

… The next day, I stayed home. I sat in the living room, all focused on sewing clothes for my son. Logan was a regimental commander, often admonishing Artie and me to be frugal and not to live beyond our means. Although Artie was too young to understand, he knew his father was a great hero who protected our country, so he had never made any demands of Logan or me.

"That’s... that’s my father. He’s the Supreme Commander of the Atlantic Fleet. He was supposed to be in a bunker in the West." ​The irony was a jagged blade twisted in my gut. The man who had raised the woman who helped us save the planet—the woman who had decoded the very salvation of our species—was now the man sent to kill us all in the name of "order" and "sovereignty." He was protecting a world that no longer existed, enforcing laws on a species he didn't recognize as sentient.

“A state actor?” “No. More insidious. A consortium.” Anton stared out at the waking city, his reflection a ghostly, determined outline on the glass. “The Zurich-London Axis. A private club of old money and new tech barons who believe borders and laws are for smaller men. My father fought them for years. He called them the ‘Gentlemen Vultures.’” He let out a bitter, short laugh. “He said one day, they’d recruit from within. That the most dangerous betrayal wears a familiar face.”

“That’s a lie. It began thirty five years ago. With seven founders. One was your father.” Olivia’s blood ran cold. Her father had always refused to talk about his past. He died when she was twelve. Everything about him had been sealed, sanitized, scrubbed from memory. Her mother continued. “Your father believed he could build a society of power, people bound by secrecy, loyalty, and fear. But he underestimated how quickly control turns into hunger. And how fast hunger becomes violence.” Olivia’s breathing was shallow now. This was more than revelation. This was a blow to her entire identity.

"He was a man of honor, of courage, and of heart. He will be deeply missed, but his legacy will live on in all of us." I felt a lump form in my throat as I listened to Elder Ulrich’s words. My father had been a complex man, with flaws and mistakes, but he had also been kind to me at least when I was younger. He was not the monster that I had made him out to be for so many years. If only I had given him the time of the day then, I would have had more time with him. Now here I was, crying over spilt milk.

Stayed up every night with my little flashlight under the covers, scribbling improvements and sketching wire diagrams. Just one kid. One dream. One dad I desperately wanted to impress. My mother was remarried and living elsewhere at this point. I never bothered keeping contact with her as her new family has always been distant, and my dad and I had returned that energy. Speaking of my dad, he was the worst critic I had personally known. His level of strictness was unmatched by no other teacher or superior in my life, even till this day. He was more of a disciplinarian than a father, during his “agile” years, for all I can remember, though they were some good, memorable times we shared.

His father was really dead? Originally, Catie didn’t believe his words at all, but now he was confused. He saw Smith being killed by a member of the security bureau with his own eyes. Bring him away with a black muzzle. Catie was completely panicked. "Director Hanmu, is my father really dead?" Director Hanmu nodded. “It’s bad to be so straightforward but that is the truth.” Thump! Catie collapsed to the ground. His father was a super giant who single-handedly created the Nightfall organization, one of the six major European clubs.