The People We Keep Novels & Stories

I wasn’t too surprised honestly, that’s exactly how normal people should have reacted. On a lighter note, Byana and her people left a few days ago. We’d rescued everyone from one of the containment facilities, but not without heavy losses. Some of the wolves questioned whether or not we should have left them there or not, which had a lot of them fighting amongst each other. The mood in the house was morbid; I could still feel a lot of tension and anger between everyone. We were tired, mourning our losses, missing home, and trying to plan our next move. The way things were going, there wouldn’t be many humans left to fight. The one thing no one wanted to hear was that we needed each other. Th

We get up. The work continues.

No beasts trying to attack us. We finally found a cave yesterday to keep us warm. We have fire. We have meat. We even have clothes to keep us warm. They're messing with us. I know the pattern. The Soul Keepers give you a week or more of almost-peace, let you think maybe we can survive this, right before they drop something designed to rip your soul out through your teeth. I can't take another round. I can't handle seeing Hazel almost fully naked again. I keep trying to get those images out of my head and replace them with images of my mate.

"The bond we lost... it hasn't disappeared. It's just shifted." As the sun began to rise over the ruins of the Lunar Well, the survivors gathered. The "Glitches," the Shifters, and the townspeople stood together in the morning light. Kael stood at the edge of the Well. He looked at the crystalline statues of the tanks-monuments to a war that had just become obsolete. He looked at Elara, whose white hair caught the first rays of the sun like a beacon. "We aren't a pack anymore," Kael announced to the weary crowd. "And we aren't a sector. We are the Well-Keepers. From now on, the water doesn't belong to the corporations or a prophecy. It belongs to anyone willing to carry the weight of being f

A voice echoed from the other room. Typical. We were always out of food. Who always wasn't? Curse the keepers! Storing every piece of foodstuff they laid their eyes on. And how do they do that? They had the power to of course. 'For the benefit of the people' they had said, but we never enjoyed any benefits. Hard labours of the poor industrious men were always in vein. Since all they produced for the mouth of they and their families all, went to the pockets of our so called leaders.