Balance of Light and Shadow (By Chandrea) novel Chapter 245

**Gloom 245**

**Chapter 245**

Just as I feel the familiar surge of frustration bubbling up inside me, Kimberly appears quietly behind me, her gentle presence a soothing balm. She takes my hand in hers, her fingers gliding softly along my arm, a silent acknowledgment of my rising temper. It’s as if she senses the storm brewing within me, and in that moment, she steps in to diffuse the tension.

“Stella, sweetheart,” she begins, her voice warm and reassuring. “You are a true hunter. Your father’s worries stem from love; he’s just afraid you might get hurt, and that thought terrifies him.”

Stella lets out an exasperated huff, her gaze dropping to the floor, a mix of defiance and vulnerability. “He always treats me like I’m still a baby. But I’m not! I can take care of myself. I’m a hunter now!” Her words are fierce, yet I can see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

Kimberly chuckles softly, a sound that has a way of easing the tension in the air. “Believe me when I say, I completely understand that. But no matter how old you get, you will forever be your daddy’s little girl. I can see how much this means to you, so how about this: I’ll stay right by your side while you get your mark. And if you need to, you can hold my hand or your daddy’s. How does that sound?”

Stella nods, her resolve strengthening as she glances at the tattoo artist preparing to begin. I know that while the arm might sting less than other places, she is still my little girl, and the thought of her enduring any pain gnaws at my heart. Kimberly, ever the supportive figure, rubs Stella’s back, whispering words of encouragement and distracting her with tales of bravery and adventure. I find myself flinching more often than Stella does, my protective instincts flaring.

Once the tattoo is complete, I scoop Stella into my arms, holding her tightly against me. She mumbles something into my chest, her voice barely audible.

“Do you think Mummy would be proud of me? That I can defend everyone from the bad wolves now?” Her question hangs in the air, heavy with longing and hope.

I try to reply, but my throat constricts with emotion, and I find myself momentarily speechless. Kimberly, sensing my struggle, gently takes the reins once more.

“Oh, sweetheart, she will always be proud of you—hunter or not. We both are.”

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