Uncle Ben Spiderman Novels & Stories

He and Calum keep taking turns with the “reins.” Ben shifted back and explained to the boys they had to take turns treating him like a horse since he couldn’t listen to both of them pulling on his hair at the same time. Calum was in the front, a strong grip on the hair around his father’s neck, and Marvel had one of his arms around Calum’s waist, the other up in the air, hooting and hollering. Ben was hilariously kicking and bucking like a bronco. He’s such a good sport with the boys. As much as I disliked him that time he tried to run away with my child, I like the way he brings out the kid in Marvel. He’s definitely the fun uncle type.

He had already found out Isabella's son's name, so he simply called out to him while smiling like a kind uncle, "Ben." Being called by someone he had never met before, Ben blinked his eyes and refused to answer. Lorenzo nodded; this was to be expected from his son. He was very smart. Lorenzo walked over and said to Ben, "Don't be scared. I am your uncle who traveled to New Zealand many years ago. I just returned to the U.S. a few days ago, and your mom told me you look like me. I was very curious and couldn't wait for her, so I hurried over here to take a look."

“Who’s the guy?” Uncle Ben still hasn’t given him a clear explanation. “He’s the young master from the Mills family. Mark Hunter Mills” Uncle Ben said softly. “Mills, hmmmm” Sebastian Golding thought the Mills have agreed to marry with Goldings. He initially thought if Amanda would not come back, he would marry his other daughter to the Mills. ‘It’s very complicated when you want to control everything, isn’t it?’ Uncle Ben could not air his thoughts out loud. He’s courting death if he did so.

Then, turning to the man, he smiled and added, "Uncle Ben, this is Dean." Hearing the name "Uncle Ben," Dean’s heart skipped a beat, his expression betraying a flicker of unease and alertness that he couldn't hide. The mention of the man's name hit him like a bolt of lightning, slicing through his thoughts and piercing the deepest corners of Dean Harrison’s memory. Benjamin Winston. The name echoed in his mind, instantly triggering a discomfort that made him feel like he was drowning in an unfamiliar yet deeply unsettling past.

Ben almost yelled at his uncle. “What evidence do you have to prove that, Ben? I haven’t done anything to your father. He perished as a result of sunlight exposure during the war against the werewolves. I haven’t conspired against him, Ben.” Uncle Ronald lied to Ben. “I will expose your deeds to the vampire world just when it is the right time for that. You can wait until then and guess what evidence I have against you, uncle. At least it will keep you occupied, and you will stop pestering me in this manner.” Ben deliberately increased his suspense to distract his mind from the mischievous acts that he was doing so far to trouble Ben.

“A-Actually, on the first day of my school, I met Uncle Ben on the road and he greeted me. He was kind and warm-hearted... to lend me a hand especially since he k-knows that my father was wounded and he wanted to help. Of course, I was happy that someone had helped us especially since what we needed right now was help since my father became disabled...” “U-Uncle Ben, right after giving me a syringe saying that all I needed to do was to inject it into my father and he will be cured since he said that syringe is the cure to my father's disability...” Before I could continue, Irene interrupted me as her brows were raised. “Syringe? An antidote to cure?”

It was a tall man, radiating an overwhelming Alpha presence that commanded attention. He had deep-set eyes, a high straight nose, and striking features. There was something familiar about him. A flicker of recognition stirred within me. It was Eric—Kellen’s uncle and the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack. Eric stared at me, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment—though it remained gentle. “I came to check on you. To see if you were feeling any better.” His face unlocked something within me. Buried memories broke through—the scattered fragments from that day in the forest started to coalesce.

“Liam. You’re here. For a moment, I thought you might brush me off, like you always brush off anything tied to our father’s wealth.” Liam took his seat opposite him, his movements calm and deliberate. When he finally looked up, his eyes glinted with amusement. “Our father’s wealth? Don’t forget, Adams—we don’t share the same father. You’re not my brother in the way you like to claim. You’re my nephew. Your father was my elder brother.”

"No. It’s Alaric Vance." The name hit me harder than the cold. I felt a sharp, familiar ache in my chest—one I had spent three years trying to bury. Alaric Vance. The man who had been my father’s shadow, his most brilliant protégé. The man who had started as an intern and ended up running half the firm before he left to start his own empire. The man I used to follow around like a lost puppy when I was seventeen, back when I used to call him "Uncle Alaric" just to see him smirk.