Whitebeards Son Novels & Stories

Cecilia POV I recognized him immediately. It was Jordan, the son of Norman's Beta. Only a few days earlier, he had clashed with the royal special forces outside the manor. His skin was sun-kissed, his black hair cropped close to the scalp, and his build even more formidable than his father's—likely a gift from his warrior mother. "What exactly is she going to teach us? How to dance, or perhaps prepare a delightful meal?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with derision.

“Commander Benmore, what is the meaning of this? This fellow killed my son. I’m avenging him. Why are you getting involved?” “Why don’t you ask him why he managed to kill your son?” Jade asked in return. “Why should I ask him that?! My son died,thrust not some random cat or dog. Step out of the way right now. This has nothing to do with you!” Colton shouted angrily. “It certainly does. He is my disciple!” Jade exclaimed.

It was quiet for a moment. Then, the man burst into shrill, deranged laughter. “What a joke! You’re the son of the owners of this place? If you are, then I’m the king of the world!” The man laughed so hard that he was shaking all over. He pointed a finger at me and said, “Listen, punk, you shouldn’t mess around so much. Although I’ve never met the guy, Professor Corleone told me her son is a king among men. He’s studying abroad! He doesn’t wear no-name trash like you! I’ve met a lot of your kind. You think you can pretend to be rich and powerful just because you’re not as good as others. Do you really think that will get you anywhere?”

"The research on bloodline-linked conditions is clear, Lila. Paternal proximity accelerates recovery. Socialization is good support. It's not a replacement." She said it gently, but the words landed the way they always did. Find his father. The man who hadn't wanted us. The man whose face I barely remembered. "I'm working on it," I said. She signed the clearance form and handed it over. "He's a sweet boy. He'll do well." Luca held my hand as we left. His stuffed wolf poked from the crook of his other arm. When we passed a display case with a model wolf skeleton, he stopped to stare. I gave him ten seconds, then pulled him forward.

Her tone was slightly reproachful as she said, "Don't get so worked up. I've told you, it's bad for your health." Louis patted her hand affectionately. The two exchanged a glance that spoke volumes, like an old married couple. Louis caught the look of disdain in my eyes. His anger faltered for a moment before he snapped, "Where's Zane? Does he still consider me his father?" My nails dug into my palms, and I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my throat. I closed my eyes and replied softly, "He's dead." A suffocating silence spread across the room. Louis suddenly yanked me by the collar. "Can you stop with the lies? Wendy's daughter saw him yesterday at school. That brat even slapped her

I struck wild, fast and furious; he struck like he'd been waiting for me his whole life. And then the bond cracked open between us. Not just heat and not just the mate-pull. Immediately, memories spilled for one blinding breath. I wasn't in my body; I was in his. A boy kneeling in blood, while his father was towering above him, holding the Oathblade. The steel pressed into his skin, carving runes into his flesh while the boy bit back screams. His father's voice was steady and merciless: "When the Hollow rises, it must fall. You are my son. You are the blade."

He nodded, his bright blue eyes fixating on mine with an intensity that belied his age. "I know, Mother," he said. The room fell silent, hanging on the soft timbre of his voice. "The scepter's magic flows through me, whispering secrets of ancient power. It's a part of me, and I am a part of it. In the battle to come, its strength will shield us, its light will guide us." Even as pride swelled in my chest, a shiver traced the length of my spine. His quiet strength was a balm to our frayed spirits, and yet, the thought of my son, bearing such a burden at his tender age, clawed at my heart.

The alpha I had gone to meet to broker the alliance had agreed about the merge, and had promised to provide strong werewolves for the oncoming war. I had happily rushed back home to tell my father of my success with the assignment, when I had overheard a conversation between my father and my mother, Nymeria, which almost made me run mad. ".... Beowulf, he is your son, you can not treat him like a common messanger in his home" my mother had been saying when I got to the door of my father's study "Darling, the boy is not useful in ways that I need him to... he does not have any werewolf abilities, so I let him do what he is obviously good at. What else do you want from me? Make him commander o

If they lived too long, they might become obstacles to their master's path, so there was no harm in eliminating half of them without the gods of this realm knowing. "That's good, I'll follow your will!" ... BOOOOOMMM.... "Uhuk... Uhuk...! What the hell is this? Grandpa, are you trying to kill me?" asked a young man who seemed to have been hit hard by the attack of the middle-aged man with a white beard. The man with the white beard looked very happy to see his grandson. How could he not be? His son had reached an extraordinary level at such a young age. Even he himself was not that strong at the age his grandson was now.

It looked like an incredible magical spell. “After my master died, I was fortunate enough to enter the Demigod with the aid of Nostro’s compass and became the Lord of the Red Tower. However, I’m the White family’s son-in-law today.” Jim flicked his fingers to dispel the formation, looking incredibly charming during the process.