The Son of Whisperwind

The Son of Whisperwind

Gavin

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Our baby boy was gone, a tiny knitted cap all that remained. Seven months, and we nearly made it. But before I could even properly grieve, my wife, Izzy, obsessed over her ex, Julian. She' d already made the ultimate sacrifice for him: our son, a victim of a desperate, experimental "cure." Julian arrived like a conquering hero, smirking, ready to exploit our ancient, sacred land, Whisperwind Hollow, for his "wellness retreat." My mother, the Keeper of the Hollow, tried to warn them, and for that, she collapsed to Julian's taunts. Izzy, blinded by devotion, dismissed my pleas, then knocked me unconscious when I dared to defend myself. I woke up to hear they'd faked my death. I, the grieving father and son, was now a "dead man," manipulated, then "murdered" again, thrown into the raging river. But the true horror was yet to come: Izzy planned to use our baby' s ashes in a twisted ritual to "cleanse" Julian. The depths of her betrayal, the calculated cruelty, left me numb, then burning with a cold, clear rage. Pulled from the river by those loyal to the Hollow, I finally understood. This land, my heritage, it amplifies what's within. Julian' s darkness would be his undoing, and Izzy's choices, her folly-they brought us here. Now, alive and hidden, I would become what I was always meant to be: the true Keeper, ready to reflect their malice back at them.

Introduction

Our baby boy was gone, a tiny knitted cap all that remained.

Seven months, and we nearly made it.

But before I could even properly grieve, my wife, Izzy, obsessed over her ex, Julian.

She' d already made the ultimate sacrifice for him: our son, a victim of a desperate, experimental "cure."

Julian arrived like a conquering hero, smirking, ready to exploit our ancient, sacred land, Whisperwind Hollow, for his "wellness retreat."

My mother, the Keeper of the Hollow, tried to warn them, and for that, she collapsed to Julian's taunts.

Izzy, blinded by devotion, dismissed my pleas, then knocked me unconscious when I dared to defend myself.

I woke up to hear they'd faked my death.

I, the grieving father and son, was now a "dead man," manipulated, then "murdered" again, thrown into the raging river.

But the true horror was yet to come: Izzy planned to use our baby' s ashes in a twisted ritual to "cleanse" Julian.

The depths of her betrayal, the calculated cruelty, left me numb, then burning with a cold, clear rage.

Pulled from the river by those loyal to the Hollow, I finally understood.

This land, my heritage, it amplifies what's within.

Julian' s darkness would be his undoing, and Izzy's choices, her folly-they brought us here.

Now, alive and hidden, I would become what I was always meant to be: the true Keeper, ready to reflect their malice back at them.

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My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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