Novel & Cerita Old Guardians

Aunt Lucia had warned me not to take in any animals by the street; her neighbor had been bitten to death by the snake she took in. I remembered Aunt Lucia's advice and dragged my cousins—who were spectating—into the bakery. The guards from the mayor's residence brought away that madwoman and Evan. It wasn't until later that I learned about her identity—she was the once graceful and elegant Hannah Dixon. I wondered what Evan had done to turn Hannah from a brave and strong werewolf into her current deranged state. Anyway, my words rang true. Those who betrayed true love would lose their beloved forever. Without Evan constantly pestering me, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Even the air

When Jamie said that Kinsley was going to make nougats for him that day, Vicente didn't react much, obviously not taking Jamie's dental issues to heart. Sofia noticed my distraction and patted my arm, looking puzzled. To tease her, I said, "I saw a movie where the adopted child was actually an adult dwarf, so I have to check your teeth to see if you're really a kid." Sofia gave me a resigned look for the first time.

Until they landed on me. He didn’t look impressed. “Bram, you’re here,” Dad said. My stomach twisted. Please don’t tell me this is a fucking therapist. I don’t have a mental issue. “Renzo,” he turned toward me, “this is Bram Hale. Your new bodyguard.” I blinked. “Body—what?” Mom stepped in quickly. “Honey, it’s just until we figure out who—who did this. Someone obviously wants your dead and we can’t take any chances.”

The overly familiar voice sounded in my ears. "Happy birthday, Ethan!" Nick. It really was Nick. So... that wasn't a gunshot? I cautiously opened my eyes only to be met with a bright room, a smiling Vesper, and a giddy Nick, staring at something like a gun in his hand. My blood boiled. "What was that sound?" Were they trying to kill me so they could boldly get together? I hadn't even given them the properties yet. Or could it be that they've found another way to get it?

The temperature of the estate had returned to normal, the sub-zero sabotage of the night before over. They entered the grand dining room, where Patriarch David Sterling sat at the head of a massive, heavy oak table. The silver domes of the food warmers sat on the mahogany buffet, but neither of them had touched their plates; the atmosphere was far too heavy for food. The Grandfather was cutting a piece of dry toast, his gold-tipped cane leaning against his leather chair. His sharp, calculated blue eyes swept over them, scanning their faces for any signs of a rift. "Sit," the Grandfather commanded, gesturing to the two chairs positioned next to each other.

Agolf did, leading the way as Draken fell into step beside him, hoping it'd be good news. TBC. Note: Oldborns are the elders.

“I understand, Doctor Watson. It’s under control. I am assigning a bodyguard to her today onwards,” My ears perked at that word. Bodyguard. My eyes fluttered open slowly, taking in my all-familiar environment. Sterile white ceiling. The faint beeping of machines. The familiar cold scent of antiseptics invaded my airways. I turned my head. The doctor was gone. Only my father was standing in the middle of the room, staring into space. He looked older, like he had aged a decade overnight. My throat burned as I tried to speak, the words coming out raw and groggy,

I heard the sound of someone suck in a breath, the direction pointing towards Aunt Aurelia. Father's fingers stilled above the dark wood, the temperature dropping lower now. “The…Sage?” Father said the words slowly, the corner of his lips firming. My lips parted, eyes drifting between Father and Rhain. It was a terrible idea, the Sage was rumored to be the oldest wolven, his mind having left him in his old age. He was nothing more than a husk that had air going through it. “It is the only way.” Rhain insisted when Father discarded the idea.

The sharp fragments fell onto the grass, and when I looked up, my father stood there, arms crossed, nodding in approval. Among those watching was Charles, standing beside his father. He had shifted a year before, but his father—our Beta—kept a firm hand on his shoulder, making sure he didn’t intervene. Helping me would have been seen as a weakness, an insult to my strength. When we were children, Charles and I spent most of our time together, imagining battles and fending off pretend rogues in the forest. It was our sanctuary, a place where we could create any story we wanted. Alexa often played along, crawling under tree roots and pretending to be captured by a ruthless Alpha, while Charles

“Listen to me. Whatever this is, it can’t hurt you as long as you don’t let it. You’re stronger than it. We’ll protect you.” Emily wiped her tears, nodding. “I trust you, Mom.” Olivia, however, looked uncertain. “But what if it’s stronger than us? What if we can’t fight it?” Clara’s gaze softened, and she pulled her daughters into a hug. “You’re not alone. We’re a family, and we’ll face this together. No matter what.” Later that evening, as Clara and Ethan discussed what to do next, a knock at the door startled them. Standing on the porch was an older woman with sharp, piercing eyes and an air of authority. She introduced herself as Margaret, a guardian of ancient knowledge about the darknes