The Collectors Novels & Stories

"You're thinking about the Collector." "I'm thinking about everyone I've lost. Everyone I could lose." "We've faced worse." "Have we? The Collector has killed three Hidden Lunas. He's patient. He's smart. And he knows our weaknesses." "Then we turn our weaknesses into strengths." Alistair turned her to face him. "You're not alone, Clara. You have me. You have Elara, Kael, AJ, Mira, Ronan. You have an entire pack." "The Collector doesn't care about packs. He cares about power."

Who was I kidding? Running wasn't an option either. No one runs from the Russian Bratva. If it were possible, a lot of people would have succeeded. But no one can run from the Bravta and no one can run from the collector. He was a hound dog. I've been cautious enough to know that's it's a useless act and those who did never lived to tell the tale. The sound of my heartbeat pounded loudly in my ears and I managed to find my voice. “Yes. You're the collector.” My stomach tightens as the chair creaks under his weight and my response. “You’re here to collect… my debt.”

JAMIE R18 🍆🥵💦 Go in with your holy water. As you read a monk who has his cock caged fucks his long lost lover who came back to him while he was already a priest. “So this is where the monk bedrooms are?” Elijah asks as I nod and knock on a door. I get a muffled reply back, and with a small, internal sigh, I move on to the next door, but that room is occupied too. My dormitory is officially packed to the rafters with timeworn Knights of Columbi, and normally I wouldn’t mind at all, except it’s looking more and more like the only empty room left is going to be the one next to mine.

✍️Authoress Ricky ✍️ To be continued... They revealed the truth☺️...I want my own Jeremy 😒

The charity run was being held in a picturesque park, with winding trails and lush greenery providing a serene backdrop for our gathering. As the clock ticked down to the start, the crowd began to gather closer, the anticipation building. I spotted a few familiar faces from the community—donors, beneficiaries, and friends of the foundation. I made a point to greet each one, sharing brief updates and expressing gratitude for their support. The sense of camaraderie was palpable, and it felt good to be surrounded by people united for a common cause.

Thorgan was simple, loyal, and harmless in a strange way. "You will be rewarded." "Well, okay then." Hearing he would not have to fight, Thorgan visibly relaxed. "As long as I'm not throwing punches, we're good." Still on the call, Cyrus walked into a second-floor collectibles room. The room had belonged to Severin. The space covered more than 800 square feet and held rare figures everywhere. Many were limited to ten sets worldwide. Some had been discontinued for years. Cyrus casually picked up a pure gold Saint Goldstar figurine, snapped a photo, and sent it over. "Help me handle this properly and I'll give you the complete Zodiac set, all in solid gold."

--- ### The Shadow of the Moon As we walked toward the doors, leaving the warehouse behind, I looked up at the sky one last time. The violet moon was fading, returning to its dull grey color. But as the light died, I saw something moving across its surface. A massive, black shadow. It looked like a hand reaching out to grab the Earth. "What is that?" I asked, pointing upward. The Scavenger woman didn't look up. She kept walking into the snow. "That's the **Collector**," she said. "The machines realized the power spike came from here. They’re sending a 'Maintenance Crew' to fix the leak."

“Perhaps you can give some insight into our current plight. What do you know of the Collectors?” Romani’s eyes darkened. “I know them well. An unfortunate side effect of traveling in the Shadow World.” He took a deep breath and continued. “The Collectors are an abomination. Their magic feeds off of life itself. The more they use their abilities, the more their corporeal form fails them.” Vanessa thought back to the rotted chunks of flesh and bone that seemed to cover each Collector. “Eventually they all fall to the Veil. They remain trapped there, suffering in endless agony as they rot for all eternity but never die.”

It was the kind of qualified win that the last twenty-four hours had been producing, and the group had gotten practiced at accepting them. Kaelen's scouts came in at a run. Two of them, the specific run of people who had been moving fast through terrain they knew well and had arrived at urgency without letting it become panic. Kaelen was up before they reached him, the Alpha instinct for his people's state moving him before the report arrived. The report was short. The Collectors had stopped. Not retreated — stopped, at a fixed position in the forest, approximately eight hundred meters from the ravine. And in the two minutes since they'd stopped, they'd releas

He didn't have eyes; he had two glowing, violet "Barcodes." "The Collector is a 'High Roller' with no taste," the Barcode-Man said, his voice sounding like a thousand glass bells. "If you want to truly 'Heresy' the system, you need the 'Merchant of Shards'."