Never Forget What They Took From Us Novels & Stories

“Part of me wants to cut them off again.” “Don’t.” “It would be a memento. Over the centuries, I’ve forgotten so many things. I don’t ever want to forget her. Or you. Or any of this.” I turned this over in my mind. “I understand. But if you’re going to remember this, then I propose we have experiences worth remembering.” ~

A chance to step away from this moment, even if the memory of it would never leave me. After a long pause, I reached out and took it. And as we walked away from the fire, from the blood, from the echoes of a battle we had barely survived, I didn’t look back. But I knew I would never forget. I would never forget this night. I would never forget what I had done. And no matter how much time passed, no matter where we went... I would never be the same again.

No one would take this from us. Not tonight. Not ever.

"Cast us out like we were nothing." The memories were as vivid as if they had happened yesterday. The way we had been dragged to the pack’s borders, stripped of our ranks, forced to leave behind everything we had ever known. The way my mother had cried, begging for mercy. The way I had searched for Zora, promising her that we would be okay—even when I wasn’t sure if we would survive.

We had each other. And now, the war truly began. They thought they had destroyed us. They thought they had broken us. They thought we would run and hide and be easy to find. But they forgot who they had raised. They forgot that they had built us to survive. To lead. To win. And they forgot that when you take everything from people who love each other… you do not break them. You make them dangerous. I leaned my head back against the seat, watching the road stretch out ahead of us, long and straight and endless.

You’ll never belong. And for the first time in years, the fear was joined by something colder, sharper. They had taken everything from me once. They were not going to take my son. Not while I still had breath.

One by one they fell, silent and damning. I stood still for a long moment. Then the tears came Hot and Silent. Burning trails down my cheeks. They tasted like grief, but heavier. This wasn’t just about property. It was our legacy. Our future. Our mother’s memory. All stolen with a few forged signatures and the weight of their power. Lira is all I have left. All we ever had were each other… and the promise that one day, we’d find our mother’s people, reclaim what had been hidden, stolen, denied. The dream had kept us warm through cold nights, hopeful through years of surviving alone.

Instead, within the glass sat the charm—scrubbed clean but still bearing the faint, stubborn shadows of dried blood. I rubbed the rough fabric of the charm, recalling Callum's final words—"I love you, Hope." I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Shirley hadn't come between us, if that betrayal and death had never happened, and if we were just two regular police officers living the most mundane lives. It didn't matter, though, as there was no use dwelling on hypothetical scenarios. I put the picture frame back in its place, took a deep breath, and turned to walk out of the office. I noticed my team waiting in the hallway, all geared up and ready. I saw nothing but absolute fa

I exclaimed with my own frustration. She blinked a few times as she stared at me through her watery eyes. “So you do this to us?” She asked hysterically. I leaned forward with narrowed eyes making sure that my words got through to her. “You make money off of me, I don’t make money off of you and it seemed like your father forgot that, I thought I would remind him.” She looked at me in shock as she took in my words. “We will lose billions.” She mumbled as she looked down at the table.

“We will meet again,” “I will never forget you and what you did to my sister.”