Im Not The Hero Novels & Stories

her voice gets more desperate, more higher with every word. “I am not your hero, you are looking in the wrong direction.” Seriously, who gave her the idea of me being anything like that? Inspired? Pft! I am a coward, running and hiding any chance I get. A moment of courage with a lifetime of anxiety makes you wonder if it's all worth it. “it doesn’t matter. I just want to be your friend. I don’t have any and you don’t need to worry about me being corrupted by the witch because I hate her.”

He nods his head and makes Chloe stand on her feet. "You called me Hero?" Alex chuckled looking at Chloe. "Yes, you're the world's best hero" "If I'm a hero then Sana would be your heroine," He said. "No, I hate her," She said. "Why do you hate her?" He asked her. Chloe didn't reply and bowed her eyes down.

It was disbelief and anger and embarrassment rolled together. “Wow,” I muttered. “There it is.” “There what is?” “Your hero complex.” I shook my head, stepping back. “You come in, punch someone, act like a knight in shining armor, and now you think you get to control what I do?” His jaw tightened. “That’s not what I’m doing.” “Oh, really?” I threw back. “Because that’s exactly what it sounds like.” “I’m trying to keep you safe.” “I don’t need you to keep me safe!”

I immediately yelled as I broke free from Jake's grip. "Don't do anything stupid, Lisa," he said as he stopped. The others stopped as well, staring at me. "Listen to him," Faelan said. "There is nothing you can do at this moment. You don't even have any ability." "You're right," I said as I clenched my fists. "I don't even have any ability. But that doesn't stop me from being a hero." "You'll die if you do something stupid!" Jake said. "You won't even be able to save her."

Just like me. I wondered what he meant. Was I a hero in their eyes? No, I wasn’t a hero. I was a victim, brought here against my will to fulfill a fatal prophecy that I refused to accept. I couldn't let myself get distracted by this. I had to shield my heart and focus on the main task.

He only cared that I’d broken his precious rules. I looked up at the stairs where Alex was hiding, then back at the door Dante had disappeared through. The lines were drawn, and for the first time, I realized that being a hero didn't mean anything if the person you were doing it for didn't even see you as a person. I was just a bodyguard. And in Dante’s world, that was all I’d ever be.

I say, motioning for her to follow me. She sighs but obeys, falling into step beside me. As we move through the gym, I can’t help but glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She’s got this fire in her, this resilience that refuses to be snuffed out. And for reasons I can’t fully understand, I want to see that fire burn brighter. But I can’t forget who I am. What I am. I’m not a savior. I’m not a hero. I’m the storm that burns everything down.

“And I don’t mind. I’m glad I am there to save you.” “Because you have a hero complex?” I giggle with a lift of my eyebrows. After a second his laughter joined mine. He shook his head. “I have many complexes Alessia.” He said with a chuckle. “But being a hero isn’t one of them. There’s lots about me that you don’t know.” He added and looked away quickly.

It doesn't have to be. I did it to protect Seraphine and my family. To make sure they don't get dragged into Pappa's shitty business deals. To give them a better future. A normal life. Or at least I think that's what I'm doing. I'm trying to be the hero my fake wife and my soon-to-be divorcée stepmother think I should be. As they say, “You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain.” I've tried going down that path. It's just not who I am. I can't be one of the villains. Turns out I still have a soul, despite everything.

He promised he would take me there whenever I wanted. "Hey," the sweetest little voice snapped. It was her, the angel that blessed this earth. There was a boy standing over her and they were both occupied with something on the ground. I doubt they knew each other, much less were related. One held a look of pure devastation and sadness while the other had painted on a cruel smile that I hated. I only managed to catch the last end of her sentence. She said something with the word mean, was that boy being mean to her? What exactly did he say something? Those were very valid and reasonable questions to ask, but I decided to charge ahead without asking myself any of these questions. That would be