Rambo First Blood Parents Guide Novels & Stories

I argued, though my voice wavered. Ramon shook his head, scoffing. “That’s the funniest part. Leaving home is also entitlement, Phoebe.” His eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time since we got here, I saw more than just irritation. I saw something deeper, frustration, anger, maybe even disappointment. “Because even when you leave, your parents will always be there to catch you. You have a safety net. The streets?” He shook his head, voice dropping. “They don’t have nets.”

“She taught me that being loved does not mean you are perfect. It means someone sees your scars and chooses to stay.” The dark Lucien began trembling. The Eternal Blood Mark started breaking apart. The child beside Evelyn whispered quietly. “He is not fighting him.” “No.” Evelyn answered. “He is accepting him.” The boy looked at his own hands. For the first time, he understood why his father never destroyed him. Because some darkness was not meant to be erased. It was meant to be acknowledged. But the moment peace began to form, a terrible scream came from beyond the broken sky. The nameless horror had been watching.

Stan, his father said, slowly getting up his chair, “About why you said you saw me stabbing your mother.” Ryan was fuming. He wanted to stab him for his mother, but he can not, he can not be like his father. He restrained himself, trying to stay calm at whatever he said. “When you did it…” his father looked at him solemnly, and then to a book on the cabinet. It was Ryan’s first book where he wrote about a boy’s life with a murderer's father. He basically wrote about his father killing his mother. “You even wrote all these lies in your book. I warned you.”

Tasting his blood brought me a sense of euphoria. In a moment of arrogance, I failed to see a wolf lunging at me. It was too late for me to react, and I braced myself for the impact. Just in time, I saw my father putting his own body between me and the attacker, taking a serious wound to his side. His sacrifice shook me to my core, a stark reminder of the dangers we faced in the midst of the intense fight. While I cradled my father in his lap, Ryan killed the rogue who had stabbed him. Panic surged within me as I saw my father's bloodied side.

A girl watching her family fall apart. Far away, beyond mountains and forests, the First Blood Vampire stood upon a balcony overlooking his kingdom. The night wind stirred his dark cloak. A servant approached and bowed. "My lord." "Speak." "The proposal has been delivered." The vampire king nodded. "And the family's response?" "They have not answered." A faint smile appeared on his lips. "They will." The servant lowered his head. "What if they refuse?" The First Blood looked toward the moon. His crimson eyes gleamed. "They won't."

"No. No, baby. You're not defined by blood. You're defined by choices. And you're going to make good choices. Just like your dad did." But I wasn't sure I believed her. Nova said she felt mean and scary sometimes. And I got angry too. Really angry. At kids at school. At my parents. At everything. What if that was the bad Romano blood? What if I couldn't change? What if I was destined to be like them? Mom sat with me for a long time. Answering questions. Explaining things in a way a nine-year-old could understand. "Your grandfather Dante ran a criminal organization. He hurt a lot of people. Your dad was forced to be part of it when he was young."

Ace voice comes out forced, the anger lacing in each word. "A bullet in the head did the trick and boom, bye bye daddy." I gasped covering my mouth, I couldn't just believe my ears. "You bastard." I held Ace arm as he was about to lung at him. "Careful there brother, one more step and you are a dead man." I held Ace arm tightly, silently hoping he doesn't do anything crazy. "I don't get why you are mad though, you and dad never got along, I did you a favor." The sadistic smile on his face makes me want to puke, he is just beyond redemption.

"No… No, she'll definitely come back!" After leaving the Sharp Teeth pack, I arrived at the Black Rose pack, which was several times larger. My father, Samson Smith, brought a large entourage to the docks to greet me. "My daughter, you've finally come home!" he said emotionally, his lips trembling. Even after a very long time, he didn't dare take a step forward. He was afraid that what he saw was only an illusion. My mother was weeping uncontrollably. She touched my arm and looked me over from head to toe. She said, "My sweet girl, you must've suffered so much! From today onward, we won't let anyone bully you ever again!"