Realizer Of Death The Reaper Romane & Geschichten

Realization crashed into me. I wasn't dead. I hadn't dreamed everything. I had come back. Back before the betrayal. Back before the heartbreak. Back before the dagger. Back before my death. A cold smile slowly formed on my lips. The maid stepped back nervously. Because the girl who had awakened this morning was no longer the same Lyra Silverthorne. And somewhere within Moonfang territory, Damian Blackwood had no idea that fate had just changed. Or that the woman who once died for him had returned with absolutely no intention of loving him ever again.

he said, voice low, filled with something that sounded like sorrow—and rage. Light exploded around us and the tomb trembled as if the world itself recoiled and as darkness swallowed me, I heard it, his heartbeat, steady and ancient, thudding in perfect time with mine. That was the night the Reaper woke.

And right in the middle of it all—he waited. Jax. They called him Reaper—because death followed him like a shadow, a silent, inevitable companion. The kind of man who could kill with a glance and leave no trace but silence and a cold void where a life once was. The instant his eyes, obsidian chips of ice, sliced through the noise and landed on me, the world shrank to that frozen moment. My breath caught, a jagged shard in my throat. I knew—without a doubt—that I was standing in the eye of a storm, and I was the fragile thing about to be torn apart.

It was you. His jaw crooked in a rueful grin. The solace was immaculate. Rains came and flooded my soul. For the longest time, I was alone. I journeyed in dreams and shadow, through the valley of the damned, looking for a place you could be born. I walked and walked, until I could walk no more, constantly dreaming of you. When it was time to plant, I did. And now? I am the Reaper. “And what did you plant, Mr. Gardner?”

🦪 🦪 LAZARUS 🦪 I walk into my room and slam the door shut. Sitting on my bed, I cover my face with my palms. She doesn’t get it, that if The Reaper, the top 1 fighter, A.K.A her father’s killer, dies… I die with him. Happily ever after is just delulu straight out of a film trick; it cannot happen for real. It takes a while to calm my thumping heart; this is karma getting back at me in the worst way possible for what I did.

I had to find something I could do to make money that I could be discrete enough to accomplish without drawing the attention of the massive amount of people I managed to successfully piss off by means of killing the under-lord, Christian. That led to my current livelihood of being an assassin. I started out with nothing more than the knife that killed my mother, Christian’s belt and sheath, and my rags cut, sewed, and repurposed into a disguise to hide my hair and face. I was sloppy in the beginning, and it was a wonder I’d never been caught. As the years passed, I became the most efficient, deadly, mysterious, and untraceable assassin. I entered unseen, killed in silence, and vanished witho

I took a deep breath as his gaze sent chills down my spine, forcing myself not to meet his eyes with my own. I had to remind myself who he really was. He was the Reaper, the man who killed his whole family, the man who could kill with his bare hands. I had to remember that, I couldn’t let myself see him as handsome…even if I couldn’t deny that he certainly was. I pulled out a chair on my end of the table, as far away from Kael as possible. Before I could sit, I heard a low growl coming from Kael, making me snap my eyes back to his face.

It was almost a whisper, and Cutter didn’t think it was directed at him, so he waited for her to turn her head back to face him before he answered. “It wasn’t a dream. Not exactly, anyway. Reapers can slip through realms—different strands of reality—and they can pull another soul in with them. Keepers can do it, too, though we rarely do. There would be no reason for us to do it. Reapers definitely have a purpose, however.” “Is that how they kill?” Ru asked, her forehead crinkling.

Not a diplomat. **A Reaper.** Marked by death. Loyal only to the Tribunal. **And already inside the manor.** ---

She didn’t dwell too much on the decorations, those details had no bearing on her prerogative so her eyes slid over them as she searched for the human that was about to die. One of a reaper’s abilities was being able to sense death before it happened; it was like an itch in the back of her brain that intensified the closer she got to the person. It wasn’t always accurate, which is why her Archangel officially gave her assignments but Lisa’s senses were better than most. She could feel the human was just in front of her, obscured by a massive bookshelf. A trail of blood and glass shards confirmed her perceptions.