Letter Your Father Novels & Stories

That’s really good because they require patience. I want to tell you some things I should have told you while I was alive. The fact that I’m telling you in a letter is either cowardice or practicality and I’m choosing to call it practicality. First, your father was extraordinary. Not just because he was right about Whitmore but because he was the kind of man who couldn’t look away from something wrong even when looking away would have been easier and safer and smarter by every measure and you are exactly like him in this way and I have spent thirty years watching you not know it.

Unsealing it, I flipped open the pages. My Strong, Resilient, Steadfast Mate, I decided that this will be the last letter I give you. Thinking about it, I knew that this would happen in the future, after I was gone. Hopefully, after the other letters have been delivered, or this would be a weird order. I doubt my father will kick the bucket that early, but let’s be honest, the day that wolf kicks the bucket there should be a celebration. I hope they are serving champagne and partying in the streets. Piss on his grave for me and pray that the goddess lets his soul rot. I’ll make sure to kick that ass on the way out too, for everyone.

It meant that Father silenced him in the corner. "What is it again, Father?" The disdain in my tone showed that Father had become an eyesore to me these past few days. Father, whose hands were stuck in the pockets of his pants, looked at me with a meaningful smile on his lips. "Did you really think I wouldn't know that you sent another letter to your mate, Alucard?" I froze at his words, looking at him, wide-eyed. "Right. I am not dumb, son." I clenched my hands. "That was my last letter. I had no plans on sending Faustina again." I didn't tell Faustina I would no longer write her a letter. I was still hoping that I could secretly communicate with her again without my father's knowledge.

my father yells at us like we're still kids The phone goes tumbling across the room and I shift back and race across the room to snatch it off the floor. I open the message and read it. Orion is lying on floor laughing his ass off. "You're just too damn easy man" he laughs out amused by my reaction. I read the message and blush seeing her two kisses at the end. "Are you blushing?" My father says My mother smacks his arm "Leave him alone. I remember you used to love the letters I wrote to you"

Father to father will you help me rescues my daughter. Beta Frank Newman The letter is heartbreaking. I couldn’t imagine what Beta Newman and his mate are going through. This also sounds so eerily familiar to Amelie’s case. I go to open the audio file. I hit play, and we hear Lacy’s voice. “Daddy. I don’t know when I will see you again. I love you and miss you. Please give mom a hug and a kiss from me. I wish I could tell you more, but I don’t have the time. Please, daddy, know I love you no matter what.”

The letter inside tumbled to the ground. I recognized the handwriting the moment I touched the letter. Standing, I started to feel the hair rising on the back of my neck. Like I was in danger. I wheeled around again. Not laughing this time. All was quiet, on all sides. I believed my instinct when it told me I was alone. The letter was from my father. Fiona, You must pay close attention! We are limited in communicating with you, my dear daughter, while you are in the captivity of the enemy that still swears to see to the destruction of your own pack and family.

" Dear Esmeralda. If you're seeing this it only means that I am already dead. I and your mum are sorry we might never be able to make it to your dance presentation, your graduation, your marriage even. We are so sorry my darling. I believe this letter would get to you as I have given it to one of my loyalists. Trust no one, everyone is always after us and are envious of us. Be brave, be strong and don't let them win. We are always with you. Your dear Father."

My father, it'd been so long since he'd spoken to me in person. The last time we'd ever really talked was bitter, him telling me to go back home, me fighting it, his voice slicing with disapproval. But this letter, out of the blue as it came, was somehow. Finally, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and broke the seal. There was tucked up in the paper, an absolutely faint aroma of the cedar writing trays he always stored his writing equipment in. I read. Dearest Lessie, I wish all the best to you. I too have fallen ill. My body becomes weaker day after day. I am afraid time is not on my side. Oh, please come back home. Stay with me. I need to see my daughter once more.

His eyes skimmed over the neatly written words, and a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I see what you’re up to, Alex,” he said finally, his tone even but laced with an undercurrent of amusement. I felt my heart drop. “It’s not what you think, Father,” I said quickly, scrambling for an explanation. “It’s just... it’s a letter from a friend. She—she just wanted to thank me for helping her out.” My father’s gaze remained fixed on the letter as he folded it back into its envelope. He looked up at me with a mixture of bemusement and approval. “I’m impressed with you, Alex,” he said, his voice warm. “It’s good to see you helping others.”

His handwriting, though slightly faded, was still recognizable. My heart raced as I read his words, written with love and a father's unwavering hope. In the letter, he recounted stories from my childhood, shared his dreams for my future, and expressed his deep pride in the person I had become. He spoke of a secret, one that he had kept hidden from me, and urged me to follow my heart and seek the truth.