The Keeper Of Happy Endings Novels & Stories

The last thing he wanted to do right now was to explain why ordinary human magic doesn’t work on him. Jester leaned forward, reached out, and took her hand. He had seen male leads in those TV dramas his mother loved to watch do this whenever they were trying to comfort the female leads. He looked straight into those ridiculously brown (they remind him of hot chocolate) eyes, and said in the most repentant voice he could muster, “Listen, Alisa. I am truly sorry for upsetting you. I know you don’t want to hear this from me, but I’m just saying this out of concern. I hope you understand that even if you’re not happy with me, I still need to know what you do and where you go. I can only keep you

scold, me,” she said teasingly. A smile filled my face and I found myself laughing. “You really are something else,” I reply, looking down at the open book. “So, I am so confused. Marylin finds out that Remus has been lying to her the whole time, but then in this chapter, she sleeps with him. I don’t understand,” she says while showing me the next tab. I smile at her eagerness, “You don’t remember the gift that Remus gives her in the third chapter? A ring, forged in Dolos, the place of lost minds, rectified by the Keeper?” She nods her head as she flips back to the third chapter, “Right, it was a birthday gift.” “Yes, and remember Rosalyn later says that the Keeper went by many nam

After my sister-in-law Lydia had my brother Caleb's kidney removed and spent three years draining his blood, he escaped back to our hometown barely alive. He lay on a bed at the clinic, holding my hand tight as he said, "Noah, don't go after them. You can't afford to cross Lydia's family." Three days later, he died in my arms. I buried him on the hillside behind the town, under the old oak tree he had loved to climb as a child. On the seventh day after I buried him, a black Maybach stopped at the edge of town. Lydia got out with a frail man who looked like he could fall over at any time. She stood outside my house's door and looked at me. "Noah, where's your brother? Tell him to come o

She took my breath away. I only managed to break free from the spell when the stunning woman spoke. “Is he the new guy, Emmy?” Her sweet voice was like music to my ears. Though she was talking to Emmy, her eyes fixated on me. Her gaze was inquisitive, albeit more subtle than Emmy’s. It seemed Emmy and the pretty lady were acquainted. “Yes, he is. His name is Brook D’Amico. He’s highly educated and intellectually gifted.” Emmy paused and blinked before drawling.

Her silver-flecked eyes scanned the crowd. “You all saw the sky,” she began. “You’ve felt the ground shifting. The spirits are quieter. The Faded Ones have gone into hiding. And that’s because they’re waiting. Because they know something else is coming.” She paused. “I met with the Council Beyond. They’ve named me Keeper of the Final Thread. Which means I hold the last knot tying this world together. And if I die—if we fall—there’s nothing left to catch the unraveling.” A ripple of unease passed through the crowd.

Killian didn't take the page immediately. He stood in front of me, a protective wall of muscle and suspicion. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice echoing in the cavernous room. "And why do you have Royal property?" The old woman chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. She shuffled forward, her milky eyes fixed on a point just above Killian’s shoulder. "I am the Keeper," she rasped. "I sweep the dust. I keep the secrets. And I waited for the day a King would come down here not for power, but for love."

I finally got my happy ever after. THE END

Bring her back. She turned. Diva's heart shattered—relief, anger, grief colliding. She wailed aloud. "Derek, no." He hesitated, doubt in his eyes. Eamon pushed back his hood, and the Keeper's face was revealed—another, one they did not know. The genuine Keeper smiled. "I keep the relic safe from those who would abuse it. Light and dark alike." Derek stepped forward, the sword falling from his grasp with a clatter. "Keep back from her."

"I made the deal. I should pay." "And you're my mate. My choice." He looked at the Keeper. "Do it." The Cemetery Keeper laughed. It sounded like bones breaking. "Very well. Let me see what memories you have worth taking." He reached out one pale hand toward Kai's forehead. His fingers never quite touched, but Kai gasped. His eyes rolled back, showing white. "Oh, this is delicious," the Keeper whispered. "So much pain to choose from. Your father's disappointment. Your mother leaving. Your first kill. But wait... here's the one. The memory that broke you and rebuilt you. Perfect."

Then she reached up and pulled her hood back a fraction. Snow-white hair. Skin pale as ice. Scars glowing faint under the sun. “I am the keeper,” she said. “I watched the first oath. I watched Veyren sleep. I watched you wake.” Aria breathed out. “I’m Aria. I watch the border now. So you don’t have to bleed alone.” The keeper almost smiled. “Good,” she said. “Then I can taste apples without listening for war.” Elias walked up, saw them, and stopped.