The Daughter Novel Novelas e Histórias

Daciana stood beside me, silent, not reaching for me, not stealing the letter, not trying to own the grief opening under my ribs. That made it worse. I unfolded the page fully, and the scent of dried roses, smoke, and old blood rose from the paper like a memory refusing burial. My shadow-born daughter, Otsana, if this letter reaches you, then the cruelest part of my last choice has survived me. My throat closed. Not my abandoned daughter. Not my cursed daughter. Shadow-born. Born into hiding, not hatred. I read aloud before fear could make me fold the letter and return to the easier comfort of rage.

"Darcie, that’s enough." Dahlia, struck at her weak spot, retaliated, "And what kind of person is your daughter? She's not helping me; she's trying to seduce my son! Take a look at what she looks like! A mistress' daughter dreaming of becoming my daughter-in-law. Dream on!" Darcie exploded, "Watch your mouth! Who are you calling a mistress?!"

The business man; his birth, his daughter’s birth, his daughter’s death and his wife’s suicide. They all ignored my presence, not knowing I was there. Not knowing a thing about me. But I knew everything about them, their dreams, their fears, their thoughts. Until it started building up, it led to a crescendo that I was powerless to stop. So, I screamed letting my voice fill all the cracks of all the pain I felt. Then it stopped. The voices, the memories they all stopped. And then I heard a faint voice. “Sorry. If I could just get this for my daughter.” I would recognize that voice from anywhere.

It would make the truth that our Queen has been lost to us for all eternity all too real, and I’m barely holding my shit together as it is. “Brother…” Nova whispers, returning to my side empty-handed. “The other offspring.” Combing my blood-stained fingers through my hair. I lean over my bonetta and delicately extract our final offspring from her uva. Another female, but this one looks a lot like her mother and not so much of a Kindred like her older siblings. She is smaller, and my brows pinch together when I realise that the chill in my hands is not from my dying twin-hearts but from my daughter.

Late that night, she carried the urn into the storage closet where I had hidden after coming home. The closet was unheated, crowded with broken furniture, and barely wide enough for a child to lie down. For the first time, she understood what it had meant for her daughter to sleep there. Mother sat between the narrow stone walls and held the urn tightly against her chest. “Ivy,” she whispered, “I am the one who deserves your forgiveness least.”

I am sure Katerina doesn’t want what happened to her public knowledge. “Hey dad.” I begin his exercise routine like I always do and go into detail about everything that has happened. I let him know Katerina is finally safe and she is now home where she belongs. I tell him everything she went through and how I feel like a failure as a mate. Like always I am met with silence until my mother walks in. “Hey mom.” “Where is my daughter in law,” she asks making me chuckle. “It’s great to see you to.”

The tall shelves were spotless yet empty and the only books that graced the smooth ebony were the ones that my daughter had given Enora when she got back from the trip. There was a bookstore I knew in New York. I would give them and ring and place a few orders. As I waited for Enora, my fingers relished the feel of her cool and soft body through the towel. Seeing her like that: clean, water glistening on her perfect skin, smelling divine, woke something inside of me. My fingers tapped the desk eagerly; what was taking her so long? The door opened and I perked up. “Dad?” “Bridget?”

The image of Donga rose in my mind like smoke. Tall, cruel, eyes like knives. The man who ripped the innocence from my childhood, who used me like a tool to cement his empire of fear. He never saw me as his daughter. Only property. Only leverage. And now he was the target. The only problem I had noticed with Lorenzo was that he was too straightforward and too headstrong while the man that should be my father was a sly snake. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, as if I could block out the storm in my mind. What if Donga played on that? What if he twisted it, the way he twists everything?

She let go of him. "Mommy! Mommy!" Her daughter comes dangling towards her with speed, while clutching a book. "Darling." She couldn't afford to tell her own daughter why she was crying, so she just smiled weakly, and stroked her daughter's hair. "What are you doing?" "Was getting myself busy." Zoey wanted to chortle at her daughter, who would have thought that her own daughter would have ended up this smart? Her daughter, Zara winged the large book into her face. "It's a good book!"

He brought a book and showed it to me. "This is our daughter's book, she draws some surprising things. A few years before meeting with a vampire man and before the bloodbath. She told me and my wife what she saw. But I do not believe, until the bloodshed actually happened "explained the husband of this woman. Then this woman said, "Yes what my husband said is true. I still remember what happened, my daughter with the floor defending the vampires, she did not want bloodshed. But it just happened. My husband hid our daughter underground with me. Bloodshed occurs at night. My daughter doesn't let innocent people just die. She tried hard to get out of the house until everything was over. The vam