First Born Novel Novels & Stories

⸻ Yet one title remained visible. MEMORY ZERO ⸻ 😱😱😱 ⸻ 🌙 The First Mystery Returns The moment the title appeared… Ilyaan froze. ❤️ ⸻ Because Memory Zero had started everything. ⸻ The first mystery. ⸻ The first question. ⸻ The first crack in certainty. ⸻ The first impossible thing. ⸻ And somehow… It had survived. ⸻ 🌙 The Lost Pages The book slowly opened.

I forged my ID documentation and also changed my last name. Instead, I went back to Damon's hometown with him. There, we held a simple wedding, and life after our marriage was peaceful and happy. A short while later, I found out that I was pregnant. I looked at the tiniest bump in my belly in the mirror excitedly, my heart filled with joy and anticipation for the new life. I knew that Damon and I were about to welcome our little baby into the world. Our newlywed life was sweet and wonderful. Damon and I were practically inseparable as we looked forward to welcoming our new chapter in life together.

Not when they’re winning. But the more I held back, the harder it pressed, until the tears spilled freely down my cheeks. I covered my mouth to silence the sob that broke out. The room was quiet. Too quiet. And for the first time since I stepped into the Lawson Mansion… …I felt completely alone. *** A KNOCK INTERRUPTS My heartbeat jumped. I quickly wiped my face. Was it Fredrick? But the knock was too soft. Too cautious. “Nova?” Henry’s voice. I opened the door a bit. “Yes?”

It made all the trouble seem worthwhile. “Do you want to hold him?” Gia gushed proudly. She held out the tiny bundle and placed him securely in my arms. My throat burned like a motherfucker; the emotion misted up my eyes like I’d been chopping onions; that big ball of fire in my chest was like a raging inferno. My huge, strong hands that I used to cause pain and destruction were shaking with reverence as I cradled our firstborn child in my arms. “What shall we call him?” Gia asked, her mascara all smudged around her eyes like a panda. She struggled to find a comfortable sitting position and winced. “Ouch. I’ll need a bath to put out the ring of fire in my cooch.”

I opened Josy's door and handed over the book to her , I don't know why but while reading it I felt all my problems move aside it was like I was moving back to how I was only with the fact that I was stuck at one place. Josy this is the book from yesterday it was about,Every mother's wish to have a healthy baby when born. A baby that was born without any complications but my life was not like that. At the age of eight Irene was diagnosed with leukaemia, chronic myelogenous leukemia . It was not that rare in children so she wondered why she had to face this .

She said. I look at her lovingly. “Is there something about Luna Ceremonies in your journal?” “No. But it may be something I add to the book. My parents only filled each book half-way, so I could add my advice for our kids someday.” “What advice did they leave you?” “The first year is the toughest. Usually, we come into each other’s lives right when we need each other the most. Looking at this first month, I would say that’s sound advice.” She said.

The doors opened to reveal a room filled with flickering monitors, all showing a single, terrifying image: A biological cradle, waiting for a host. And standing in the center of the room, holding a surgical laser, was a man who looked exactly like Dante, but with eyes of burning violet. The Prototype. The Firstborn. "Welcome home, little brother," the Firstborn said, his voice a perfect, melodic chime of madness. "I’ve been waiting for the blood to arrive. Shall we begin the transfer, or do I have to take the child from her while you watch?" Is the Firstborn a loyal tool of Arthur St. Claire, or does he have his own obsessive designs on the "Natural Born" heir—and can Dante protect Ivy from

Perhaps, this is what the goddess intended all along — that I should be left alone with the weight of my deeds. I remember when Ravena was born. My first child. My beautiful moonbeam. She had eyes that glowed even in the dimmest torchlight, and her first cry sounded like music. I held her and thought, This one will never know pain. She will have the world at her feet.

The small child with a scrapped knee, sobbing as another child teased her for her fiery red hair and freckles. I'd never killed a child before. I still haven't. But I'd considered it that day, when that small red haired girl looked up at me, not with fear or hatred for my kind, but pure curiousity and childhood wonder. She'd let me hold her and tend to her wounds, thanking me by kissing my cheek innocently in thank you, before she tried to run off blushing. It was the first time I'd called her darling, scolding her for rolling her eyes at me when I made her hold my hand to walk across the roads while she led me to her house.

Each milestone, from the first ultrasound to feeling the baby kick, brought them closer. The day their baby was born was a whirlwind of emotions. Holding their newborn for the first time, they felt a love that was beyond words. They named her Lily, a symbol of purity and new beginnings. Bringing Lily home was a beautiful chaos, filled with sleepless nights and endless diaper changes, but also with moments of pure joy and wonder.