The Son Of Bigfoot 2 소설 & 이야기

“I’m going back to bed. I’m going to think about a name for him until I can go back to sleep.” He almost skipped to the couch where Lindsay and Wren were sitting. He gave Lindsay a hug that made one of her ribs pop, and to her surprise, he hugged Wren, too, before going to his room. Lindsay and Wren sat silently. They looked straight ahead as they tried to process not only the creature playing with their dog but also the conversation they had just had with Dillon. “Well, that was weird,” Wren finally said, breaking the silence. “Which part? The part about having our dog’s best friend being Bigfoot or the part about our son being happy that Bigfoot is the dog’s best friend?” Lindsay asked.

the old man continued, his voice quiet and cold, “thinking yourself some prince among peasants, but let me remind you... You are just as replaceable as any of your cousins, as Kia, as your father sitting beside you, if it came to it.” Jason’s face paled. “You bite more than you can chew, and one day, that arrogant mouth of yours will swallow your future whole.” Raising his gaze slightly, Jason opened his mouth to speak. But before a single syllable could leave his lips, "crunch!" his father’s foot landed firmly on top of his. Hard. Jason sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his jaw so tight he nearly cracked a molar. The taste of blood bloomed across his tongue. Metallic and bitter.

Sure enough, after only two seconds of hesitation, he stepped forward unhurriedly and cleared his throat. "You're all mistaken. Eloise Lloyd is not my son's mother. She's only..." He paused, his gaze falling tenderly on Samantha. "She's only the nanny I hired for my son. Samantha Yates is my son's real mother." A nanny? I froze, feeling myself going numb. Victor and I had been together since college. We had been through thick and thin for ten years. When his business failed and he fell into debt, I even fought with my father for his sake. When his frequent social drinking gave him stomach problems, I woke up at 5:00 am every day to make him a nourishing stew.

He walked over to a massive, shimmering curtain at the back of the room and pulled it aside. My breath hitched. Behind the glass were hundreds of infants, all suspended in glowing, amber fluid. And in the center, in a tank twice the size of the others, was my son. He wasn't crying. His eyes were open, and they were glowing with a terrifying, rhythmic gold. "The Ancients didn't just take the city, Lyra. They took the backup," my father said. "These are the failed prototypes. Your son is the only one who survived the 'purple rot' you injected. He’s the bridge they’ve been trying to build for a thousand years."

I lifted him up and placed him on the defendant’s seat, then spoke with deliberate calm, "Everyone, take a good look. This is my son, a golden retriever who just turned two." Fiona and Daisy stared at the dog in my arms, their eyes stretched wide in disbelief. Fiona’s lips trembled. "N-no… that’s impossible. How could your son be a dog?!" I raised an eyebrow at her. "I only have one son listed on my household record. I said my son’s name was Lucas. I never said my son was human." Daisy’s face drained of color. She was on the verge of breaking down. "You said your son was about the same age as me. How could he possibly be a dog?!"

She suddenly stood, calling out: “My lord! My lord!” Mason entered quickly, eyes sharp. “What’s going on?” “He doesn’t know.” Her helpless glance told him everything. Maxton’s voice cracked with frustration. “Is there something I should know about?” Mason quietly locked the door, drew the curtains, and faced his son. “Calm down, Maxton. Take a deep breath.” Then the sound of cracking bones filled the room. Maxton’s eyes widened in horror. His father’s body bent, reshaped, grew. Fur sprouted. Within moments, standing before him was not a man, but a massive wolf.

If it were up to me, I wouldn't even involve myself in a conversation with this man, but since he sought me out, despite the bullshit that leaves his mouth, I feel like he might have some information I could need. "I am a stepfather too. To two sons: Lenox and Atlas." Than states with such pride in his voice, I'm taken aback. Has this guy been running through the forest and eating the funny-looking mushrooms, or has he done some deep research on my family? What the actual fuck is wrong with this ogre? "As," Than takes a step closer, and for some reason, I can't move. "My daughter, As, she resides inside your son. She's keeping him alive, and he's protecting, shielding her."

And their 22 year son Tyrese. *********************************** Enjoy the fast forward.

She latched right on. "What's wrong?" Bolton spun around and smiled. "She is a hungry little thing." "She is." I bit my lip smiling up to him. "Give me my second son." "Which one is the second?" "His ankle bracelet is blue." Bolton lifted him and placed him in my arms. He was much wider than my first son. I could tell he would be built like a linebacker as he grew. He sniffed around licking his lips but wasn't finding the nipple.