Reapers Book Novels & Stories

Humans got rid of all witches by burning them at the stake during the reckoning but I ran out of town with nowhere to go. Years ago I had come back to the very same town that Katherine had died, I was made duke even though some people knew I was a vampire they employed my help for different jobs they could not do themselves. You could say that I was some sort of assassin. It was for a job that I had gone to the manor of the Pedros and that was when I had seen Guinevere, she was a replica of Katherine. I had heard of reincarnation but never had I believed that it was possible, now she was grown into the woman that Katherine was before she died and her scent was irresistible. I know she is not

Like hoppy. The girl wheezed, tried to crawl away, but the bonds held tightly, and her back rested against a tree trunk. Only a few steps separated the victim from the undead. The stench emanating from the Walker became unbearable. The ugly face of a ghoul with traces of earth on rotting skin was distorted by greed. Blue lips stretched out, revealing strong teeth. Someone's husband or father will bite her to death. Someone who loved, suffered, lived, but died and... was reborn into this .

When I spat it out, I found two of my teeth lying in my palm. At that moment, I no longer cared about anything else. I hurriedly texted Mirabelle, asking her to come back. … Mirabelle had settled down somewhere and was still live-streaming. The scene of me barging into her room earlier had been broadcast live, and now thousands of viewers were pouring into her stream. "You latecomers just missed it, but the heiress of the Hawthorne family went ballistic over her housekeeper's glow-up." "Are you sure that was Rosetta? She looked nothing like her; she looked more like a middle-aged woman who'd let herself go."

The Reaper had never entered the room. The Reaper had been *watching them set the trap.* **The Face Beneath the Flame** **\[Reaper POV – Hours Earlier]** She didn’t blink when the girl screamed. The trap had sprung — precisely as she intended. The moment the journal glowed and the guards came running, the Reaper stepped silently into the shadows beyond the observatory, cloaked not in magic, but in memory. The servants passed her in the hall. A scribe nearly brushed her arm. None saw her.

“You misunderstand the Reaper’s purpose, Prince of Hell. The Raven Reapers are not vultures drawn to carrion. They are a function, as old as we are. They are the enforcement arm of destiny.” She gestured to the Loom. “We weave, we measure, we cut. The Reapers are the auditors who ensure the thread, once severed, is filed correctly. They are the agents who maintain the order of the transition. Donn is not a predator circling your mate. He is a cosmic bureaucrat whose entire system has been thrown into absolute anarchy.”

a rogue faction of the original tribe who had rejected the resonance ten thousand years ago to embrace the vacuum of the deep reach. The Reapers were a terrifying inversion of the Silver Crest evolution. Their skin was a dull, matte black that seemed to suck the light out of the binary suns, and their eyes were pits of absolute white, devoid of the gold ring of the healer or the silver flash of the king. They didn't carry staves of light; they carried "Abyssal Scythes," jagged weapons of void-steel that hummed with a frequency designed to drain the resonance from any living thing. "The harvest is here," the lead Reaper hissed, his voice a discordant harmony that vibrated painfully in our mar

"The machines realized the power spike came from here. They’re sending a 'Maintenance Crew' to fix the leak." She looked back at us, her expression grim. "And they don't use drones for maintenance. They use the **Reaped**." "Who are the Reaped?" Rowan asked. "The people who didn't survive the de-compiler," she said. "The ones who lost their souls to the simulation. They’re coming to put you back in your boxes." A sound echoed from the sky—a long, low horn that sounded like the Earth itself was crying.

This group of vampires, who only knew how to take from me and use me for their own ends, were not worthy of being my clan. And that unworthy mate, I had already given up on him completely. He would get what was coming to him. --- Three Months Later — Silver Moon Clan Territory I stood on the balcony of my new castle, looking out over the moonlit city, feeling at peace. My phone rang. It was Chloe. “Lydia, did you see the news?” her voice was buzzing with excitement. “Your ex’s clan has completely collapsed!” “I saw,” I said lightly. The internal vampire communiqués were very detailed:

Fast, quiet, and very good at their jobs. Perfect. Now he could go keep Lisa company in jail. After seeing what happened to Ethan, the others no longer dared to come near me. They were afraid I would retaliate. Later, I heard that some of them took a gap year and applied again, but their confidence had been destroyed. Most of them never got into the schools they had once bragged about. Others went straight into work or ended up at schools they used to look down on. But none of that had anything to do with me anymore.

It was the ultimate leverage in a world obsessed with bloodlines. While Daphne wavered, Aaron stepped forward, his presence expanding until the hallway felt small. He reclaimed the scroll with a snap of his wrist. "If you have a death wish, I won’t hold back my wolf. Was fifteen days in the silver-lined pits not enough for you?" During the reclamation of the borderlands, we had ensured Daphne spent two weeks in the Steele Pack’s holding cells. She clearly hadn't learned her lesson. Her face paled, and she vanished into the shadows of the corridor before Aaron could shift.