How To Read Novel The Daughter of Wolf Executor Full Episode

In a house where the stories of fairytales and romance were never whispered, but tales of bloody battles and war resonated in the air, I grew up as the child of an enforcer wolf. My father was an unyielding force, a stern and unrelenting figure who never allowed me to forget his rugged and ruthless past. As I grew older, the stories became more vivid, more gruesome, and I learned to swallow the gory details, just as I did my tears.

My mother, in her quiet moments, tried to convince my father that I would never have to witness such horrific scenes. She yearned for me to grow up shielded from the cruelty of the world. She believed I should be surrounded by tales of love and beauty, not the cruel underbelly of the world. But my father, whose rugged exterior mirrored the harsh world he came from, refused to believe that. He thought it was better for me to know, to be prepared for the darkness that might befall me one day.

With my father’s relentless training, I grew stronger than most of the boys my age. I was not allowed the luxury of friends to hang out with. My father pushed me relentlessly, demanding more and more from me, molding me into the enforcer wolf he envisioned.

As time wore on, I began to seek the company of older wolves. Their wisdom and experiences were more rewarding to me than the benign chatter of my peers. My mother often expressed her concerns, telling me that I was ahead of my time, that I should have more friends my own age. To her, I was still her little baby girl, while in my father’s eyes, I was the son he would never have.

Now, as I sit waiting for the elders to come and give me the blessing to discover my inner wolf, I feel a profound emptiness. The people around me seem like shadows, their voices echoing in my ears but failing to touch my heart. It’s as if I exist in a void, disconnected from the world and those who surround me. The anticipation of discovering my inner wolf, something that should be a moment of great significance, stirs no emotion in me.

I can’t help but wonder if that’s why my father is hesitant to embrace me. Perhaps, in his eyes, I have become too much like him. I have absorbed his stories of violence and war, embraced his stern teachings, and in doing so, lost some of the innocence and warmth that my mother had hoped to preserve.

As I await the elders’ arrival, I am caught between two worlds, torn between my mother’s longing for a child and my father’s desire for an heir. In the midst of it all, I hope to discover a path that will allow me to be true to myself, embracing the strength I’ve gained from my father while also holding onto the warmth and kindness that my mother instilled in me.