He A Keeper Novels & Stories

“I understand why you had to do it. You wanted to protect me. It must have been a lot or experience that dark time.” “May the goddess bless you my child.” She said kidding me on the forehead. “Now come on, let’s go in before the Keepers get more crankier than they already are.” She said We were out of the car and then further in to the well structured and finished cave. Four Keepers awaited me. “Welcome Annie. We hope you will excuse the absences of Kelt and Sheryl. They are on an important assignment.” The keeper whose name was Terra said. As usual, her voice was warm yet stern and authoritative. I cast a glance to her side where Keeper Tana stood with her unimpressed face. Then Roy stood b

Nobody had possessed the grace to look past the widespread destruction, past the rampaging monster, and past the existential fear to see the agonizing hurt buried underneath. Aurora began crying openly, her silver light pulsing softly. Suddenly, she understood the architecture of the beginning. The Keeper was not a warrior destined to tilt the scales, nor were they a ruler meant to command the gods. The Keeper was a witness. They were the guardian of primordial balance, the one tasked with remembering what everyone else forgot. Including forgiveness. Luca stood at the dead center of the Source, watching, listening, and learning as the ancient truths settled into his mind.

As long as they kept their hands off her Sheila, and someone made sure his baby was fed, he did not care what hells awaited for him and why . He reminded himself to reaffirm vows by the Pattersons, the Lorenzos, and the Feuns, that they would keep his ladies herded. Lone sheep get branded first. At last, he'd settle on this idea that death in any form would be a beauty. An aesthetic marvel. Whether one found it scary, serene, fiery, blissful, avenging, or as providing closure ... must remain a personal interpretation. To each their own ...

He took my hand again and smiled sadly. “I am here now, and it was wonderful to speak with Apache again, and I am very excited to be welcomed into your pack. Although, I would like to meet the warriors that went looking for me as well. I’m sure I would remember the ones I tormented as a child.” Grinning I turned to my food and took another bite of my burger. “Well, most of them have retired and moved away with their mates. There are two left that stayed. Do you remember Garrett and Kyle?” I almost jumped out of my seat at the mention of Kyle.

Alarick said, kissing both of his hands softly, where their bond marks are, "The temple is your home, and my home is in you. A cruel fate for a kragforer." (My sacred Dalli.) (Barbarian) Erriene was not even able to translate the words any more. Alarick looked at him in pure adoration and sorrow. "You brought my mamkka back like you promised. You also found my heir." Erriene's eyes blurred and he could hear a child crying out in the distance. It's my fault I'll never have him, I'm cursed, I'm alone, I'm alone again-

he replied, his voice warm. “And why do you say that?” Aislen found herself smiling back at him. There was something entirely engaging about him, she thought, something that sucked a person into his warmth and made them want to confess to all manner of things. Not a werewolf, she tried to think logically. No, Leighton Richard wasn’t a werewolf, nor was he a vampire. But he was something… something supernatural. “Because, I am not,” he replied. “You are the Secret Keeper.”

He asks me with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, but I shake my head. “No! It’s just that… none of the archives tells you anything about the werewolf gene. Is there a reason?” I ask with no idea as to how I even thought of that question. Viktor stands back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Our ancestors decided to keep our lineage separate from the town’s history. Only Kai has the keys to that vault.” He says. Ah, that would make sense, but why would Kai be the only one with access to it? Was it because he’s an Alpha?

The figure stepped forward into the dim light, and I found myself studying an old woman, ancient in a way that made even Vane look young by comparison, silver hair pulled back severely, dressed in clothing that looked woven rather than sewn, something out of an older century entirely. "You may call me the Keeper," she said, voice calm, unhurried, entirely unbothered by the weapon still trained on her. "It's the only name I've answered to for longer than any of you have been alive." Vane made a small, strangled sound beside me, disbelief cracking through her composure entirely for the first time since I'd met her. "That's not possible," she said. "The Keeper died decades ago. I attended the c

The Chairman closed his eyes. "I hoped you had forgotten that." Justice Sani looked sharply at him. "What Keeper?" The old man hesitated. Then, for the first time, he answered without concealment. "The Last Keeper." Elias' voice came through Nathan's speakers. "I thought that was only a story." "It was." The Chairman replied. "Until Magnus made it real." Amara folded Magnus' letter carefully. "Who is the Last Keeper?" The Chairman looked directly at her. "I don't know."

“Who?” “He was also cursed by the witch back then. I think he broke his. Alexander was drunk one night and he slipped up. I caught the name.” I grabbed his hand. “Who?” “The Keeper,” he said quietly. My brows drew together. “Who?” “Lorgan Crossman,” he sighed. “Drunken Moose. You remember him, right?” I froze. That madman? That filthy drunk? He’s the Keeper? Higher than the Order. Even higher than Lorenzo?