I Didn't Want To Be A Halfblood Mga Nobela at Kwento

I wanted to ask him about it but I didn't know if it was something he would be comfortable talking about. “I know you might have some questions about what Chase said that night.” Eren spoke, his demeanor casual. “It’s totally okay to ask; everyone knows at this point.” “Was he lying when he said that you were a half-blood?” I asked, my voice steady. He sighed, the weight of the topic darkening his expression. “It’s true—I am a half-blood. My mother was human and a slave to my father. He got her pregnant and when he found out that she was pregnant, that monster's solution to fix the problem was killing my mother because he couldn’t bear the thought of having a half-blood child. That's all we

It was at that point that he realized I was a half blood. My father became disgusted by my existence. Madame Freya did everything she could to conceal me from the truth that I was an abomination, but it didn't take long before I started to understand it myself. My father openly insulted me. He once told me that he wished he didn't have a child than to have me, he wished I wasn't born to him, and that now I was so useless that I couldn't even be mated to anyone, since no one would want to be with a weak half blood.

So I opted for half the truth. “I ran away because I don’t want to be a servant my whole life. That’s not who I am. But alpha Grey never allowed any half blood to be something else. I was forbidden from learning in the school after I turned 10. I wasn’t allowed to participate in training like the other kids my age. Half bloods were always mistreated and our rights have always been fortified by alpha Gray. We were nothing to him, just because of our blood. I couldn’t take it anymore. So, when he died, I took my chances and tried to leave” I had a lot more to say regarding our rights, but I didn’t want to anger him.

But I was glad my friends were quick enough to intervene. I had planned to move out once I turned eighteen to find where I belong. To a place where I could be loved so perfectly, so properly, I'd do everything to reciprocate that love much better. I had thought of finding my mother's family as my father's family never accepted me. I had never thought about it that much until now but I guess, perhaps, it had to do with my being a half-lycan. It has too be. My paternal Aunt had once said to me with a scathing look on her wrinkled face, "you will never be one of us, ugly!" I was quite young to really understand that and ever since that day, I realized my father had cut ties with his own family,

I close my eyes and try to recover my memory of what happened before I passed out but I come out blank and with an headache instead. "Just rest, you need to recover. I noticed you don't heal yourself. Are you a half blood?" He asks and I notice the sincerity and gentleness in his voice, but I can't help but flinch at his question. Am I half-blood? Whoever this good Samaritan is is no different from the others. So quick to judge. Because I don't heal, see or change like other werewolves doesn't make me half-blood. I will prove this to everyone!

“As your father and I lived together you were born and when you escaped my womb, you were born with a glow. The other gods sought to kill you because to them you were an abomination. A half mortal, half god. They said the only way they would agree to keep you alive is if I went back to the spirit realm and they would have to lock away your god side. For a half god was never to exist.” I can’t believe all what she’s saying. It’s sounds like a fairy tale and it’s all so overwhelming. How can I believe that I am a half god when all my life I have lived as a normal human being? Getting trampled on by my oppressors. “I agreed to the will of the gods and they locked away your god side and banished

"It’s poison to half-bloods! It would have destroyed his veins, Bastian! It could have KILLED him!" Bastian’s face went dead pale. Blood Brew was a pureblood delicacy, but it was pure poison to half-bloods. "I didn’t know... I didn’t think..." His voice trembled, all of his signature elegance completely gone. "I’m sorry. I really didn’t know..." Liam stared at the smashed cake on the floor. His hope was completely dead. He buried his face in my chest and whispered, "It’s okay, Mom. He couldn’t have known."