Graveyard Keeper Silk Novels & Stories

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves before finally knocking. Fenelle opened the door shortly after, her face lighting up with a joyful smile at the sight of me. Though her eyes appeared weary and red-rimmed, and she seemed more exhausted than usual, they shimmered with a mixture of relief and astonishment when our eyes met. It was only in that moment that I truly took in her appearance. She was dressed in an incredibly short spaghetti-strap nightgown featuring a plunging V-neck that showcased her curves and deep cleavage. The material was sheer enough to hint at her braless silhouette, while the short hemline left her long, elegant legs, which were accentuated by shimmering black stocki

His posture was impeccable, every inch the Alpha—commanding, patient, unyielding. “I just need your signature,” she said softly, setting the parchment down in front of him. “So the order for the ceremonial silks can go out.” He reached for his pen without looking up at first, but as he signed, Evandra’s eyes wandered. That was when she saw it. An ivory envelope resting near the corner of the desk, sealed with the distinct crest of Pearl Pack—an etched seashell, ringed by delicate waves. She frowned, recognizing the mark instantly. Without thinking, she reached for it, fingers brushing over the heavy cardstock.

“I know what they were.” Her silver eyes filled with sorrow. “They once guarded the sacred rivers beneath the Second Seal.” Master Orion looked from the silent figures to Nyx. “You mean these people have been dead for thousands of years?” “They have.” One of the Drowned Keepers slowly opened its eyes. They were completely silver. No pupils. No iris. Only shimmering silver light. The figure looked directly at Nyx. Then it bowed. Every other Drowned Keeper followed. Hundreds of silent figures lowered their heads in perfect unison.

The deep, mournful blast echoed off the stone walls of the fortress, announcing the arrival of the first foreign delegation. I snapped the journal shut, hiding the wooden box back beneath the mattress. I walked over to the open trunk Kieran had left behind. My hands reached into the velvet interior, ignoring the gowns of silk and gold. Instead, I pulled out a striking gown made of pitch-black velvet, cut sharp across the shoulders, its high collar lined with silver armor-plating and a blood-red silk cape that trailed behind it like a spill of fresh blood. I looked at my reflection in the tall vanity mirror. My hazel eyes were glowing with a fierce, terrifying golden fire that no blood-charm

"Except for the expensive designer clothes and enchanted items. Don't throw those away into the dirt. Gather all the high-quality items up—my claws will sell them secondhand to the traveling merchants and donate every single token to the pack orphanage. Consider it a tiny bit of payback for the massive wealth they owe my pouch!" "However your paws dragged your dusty luggage into this mansion when your camp first arrived years ago, that is exactly how your hands are taking it back out today! That old junk is all your fur gets to keep!" my voice snaps as the bodyguards raid the back storage room, dragging out old dusty bags that Elder Mrs. Grimfen had hoarded since her countryside days.

Each one was encrusted with rare stones and embroidered with the sigils of ancient packs. My eyes drifted to a glass cabinet at the far end of the hall. "Are those for sale?" I asked, pointing to a gown in the center. It had an embroidered bodice that flowed into a skirt dotted with tiny, hand-stitched tulips. It didn't look like a weapon of war; it looked like a dream of peace. Mr. Jarvis let out a meaningful hum. "That, my dear, is the Tulip of the Tundra. It’s been waiting for a wolf with a soul like yours."

The nail she held pulsed once in her hand. “The Keeper of Keys,” she whispered. From the shadows at the edge of the hollow, a figure emerged. It was tall, draped in something that flowed like smoke, and it had no face. It spoke without making a sound. “You carry the mark.” Camela held up the nail. “They said you could open the gate.” “I can,” the Keeper replied. “But opening the gate requires a price.” Her stomach twisted. “What price?” “A name,” the Keeper said. “Not yours—someone else’s. Someone bound to you.”

99 THE KEEPER OF THE VAULT ARIA Every weapon in the room came up at once. Marcus moved in front of me so quickly that I barely saw him do it. The guards spread into a defensive formation, their flashlights converging on the figure standing inside the corridor. The stranger didn't react. He simply stood there. Watching us. The golden lines still glowed faintly across the black marble entrance, illuminating his silhouette from behind. He appeared tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a charcoal-gray suit that looked impossibly pristine considering he had supposedly emerged from a place buried beneath Stonehaven.

They couldn't wait to see me lose my mind, begging him to keep me. Instead, I turned my back on him. And married another man. ... My keeper, Don Rocco, sent another velvet box. Inside was a lace teddy, so thin it was like a whisper. Tucked beside it was a pink diamond necklace from a Sotheby's auction. It cost more money than I’d ever see in my life. I stared at it, my face blank, and dropped it in my jewelry box. Gifts like this? I’d gotten hundreds over the past five years. They meant nothing to me anymore.

Everything she no longer wanted ended up in my room—like I was nothing more than a dumping ground. When I finished packing, my phone rang. It was the tomb keeper. “Hello, Jennifer. You asked me to reserve the grave you picked, remember? If you come by with the silver coins soon and book it, I’ll keep it for you. Otherwise, someone else might take it.” I chose a grave just a week ago. It was quiet, wrapped in moonflowers and white roses—the kind of peace my wolf always dreamed of. She said she wanted to rest there, far away from this cruel, bitter world.