The Boyguard Novels & Stories

“But you have to trust me.” Before the boy can respond, a sharp crack echoes through the arena and I turn to see one of the guards aiming a shock baton at us, the device crackling with energy. “Enough stalling!” the guard barks. “Fight, or you both die.” My mind is racing. The boy’s fear is palpable, but there was a glimmer of understanding in his eyes so I release him and slowly stand up straight, my gaze locking with the guard’s. “If you want a fight,” I growl, my voice carrying the weight of my anger, “then come down here and face me yourself.”

Surprisingly deep for his size. He started to walk by. Before he could move, the guard's hand shot out and grabbed him. “Where are you going?” The boy had his answer ready. “To deliver this to the king. It is a personal message for him.” The guard held out his other hand for the boy to drop said message. “It is a personal message,” the boy insisted. “It contains words of those Baryns worms.” The guard’s frown cleared and he withdrew his hand. “You should have said. Very well then, be on your way.”

“You’re safe, just breathe.” His trembling eased as I whispered grounding words, the same ones Mother had carved into my bones tonight. For a moment, his hybrid pulse steadied against mine. The bond-pain dulled just slightly, as though it recognized kin. Then the sound of boots cracked down the street. Council hunters. I swallowed panic, I couldn’t let them see him. I raised the boy up, muttering the shield words under my breath, reckless, sloppy. Light crackled around us, faint violet sparks at the edge of my vision.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before disappearing almost instantly. “It won’t last.” I hated how relieved that tiny expression made me feel. I crossed my arms. “Fine. Kael. Start talking.” The wind shifted between us, colder now. “You know the story they tell about the Guardians?” he asked. I nodded slowly. “They’re chosen to protect the balance between creation and ruin.” “That’s the version meant for children.” Something uneasy twisted in my stomach. “What’s the real version?” Kael’s gaze lifted to mine again. “The Guardians were never meant to destroy ruin,” he said quietly. “They were created to contain it.”

But I was already welcoming the boy with open arms. At last, the boy finally spoke up. "I'm the guardian of Savier7. You can call me Alex."

The Guardian closest to them raised his weapon. Luca moved before the man could fire. His knife flashed. The mask shattered. The soldier stumbled backward. And everyone froze. A boy. The Guardian was a boy. Seventeen. Maybe eighteen. Not much older than the others. The boy stared at them blankly. Eyes empty. Expression hollow. Like his soul had been carved out and replaced with commands. Isabella looked away immediately. A broken sound escaping her throat. Because she recognized him. Not his name. Not exactly.

A low sound escaped him, not quite a growl, not quite a breath, but something in between. The guards staggered back, fear spreading across their faces. Raw. Uncontrolled. “This… this isn’t possible…” one of them whispered. But the boy just stared, unblinking. His eyes burned deeper. Darker. Filled with a rage that no child should ever carry. And in that moment, they understood. This was not something they had thrown away. This was something they had created. And now, it was looking back at them. The silence broke. “Run!”

“Why me? When there's a girl here who sees things?” The guard froze mid-tug, glancing down at him. “What did you say?” “I said,” the boy coughed. “that there's a wolf here who gets visions.” The guard crouched lower, eyes narrowing. “And who are you talking about?” The boy jerked his chin towards my cell. “That one,” he said without hesitation. “The girl from yesterday. I overheard her talking about it earlier.” My heart almost stopped. The guard stood, straightening his jacket. “You're lying,” he said, smirking.

His short dark hair framed his face neatly, and his eyes—too calm, too observant—swept across the area with a composure that no child should have possessed. “Hey, kid,” one of the guards said cautiously, stepping forward. “What are you doing out here alone? Where are your parents?” The boy tilted his head, studying the guard like he was the one asking strange questions. Then, with a small, unreadable smirk, he said softly, “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” He pointed at the guard’s phone. “It’s been bugged.” The guard froze. Adrian’s eyes narrowed. Before anyone could react, the boy slipped silently into the backseat of the waiting car with the ease of someone who had done this many tim

Kaelan Ashwood's POV "Do not close your eyes, Tobin," I said, pressing both hands over the wound in his chest. "You are going to tell me who sent you. Stay with me." The young guard lay on the frozen ground of the north ridge with his mouth full of blood. Around us, the forest was chaos, snarls and shouts and the sick crack of bone. Ashwood wolves and Crimson Fang warriors tore at each other between the pines, and I could not spare a glance at any of it. The boy under my hands was nineteen. Six hours ago he had stood in the Great Hall and pointed at Lyra.