Vow Of Thieves Audiobook Free Novels & Stories

Chapter 80 – The Book of Vows Althea’s POV “I forgot this was here.” The words came out of my mouth before I realized I was speaking aloud. Mara, who was sprawled on my couch with her feet dangerously close to my throw pillows, glanced up. “What did you forget now? Another emotionally significant object you swore you burned?” I held up the thin leather-bound notebook in my hands. “This,” I said. She squinted. “That looks… serious.”

wasn't a book about humanity; it was a Universal Anthology. ​As the sun set over the now-solid spires of Aethel-9, I stood at the center of the city, my hand pressed to the central spire. The Shield Ink on my wrists was no longer a mark of a "Debt-Bride." It was a Library Card. ​"Rule 47," I said, the words echoing through the emerald-gold air. ​"What is the rule of the First Book, Aara?" Thomas asked from the Bowery, his voice filled with the wisdom of a new era.

I reached in and pulled it out. A small bundle that was wrapped in one of Elena's scarves. I unwrapped it carefully. Inside was a leather journal. Three USB drives. A small audio recorder. I opened the journal to the first page. If you're reading this, something has happened to me. Elena's handwriting. My hands trembled as I turned the page. March 15th I think Marco is stealing from the famiglia. Not much—just enough to stay under the radar. But the numbers don't lie. Shipments arriving short. Money disappearing from accounts. Always small amounts. Always explained away as "administrative costs" or "unexpected expenses."

The sounds inside struck me like lightning. Chloe let out a soft, teasing laugh. "Darling, are you actually going to honor the Blood Moon vow?" Damian chuckled lightly, each note dripping with indulgence. "Babe, that was only a chain to keep her and her pack in check. Tonight, you're the one I want." Then I heard the sound of clothes tearing and Chloe's restrained moans. The sweet, fruity scent clung to me, like an invisible hand closing around my throat. I stood rooted, blood turning to ice, every inch of me paralyzed.

His skin was the color of obsidian, and his voice, when he spoke, sounded like a thousand screaming voices merged into one. ​"Winifred! Cassian!" Thorne’s voice boomed, vibrating the very stone beneath our feet. "The debt of the First Pact is due! Give us the Crown of Shadows, or watch as the North is turned into a graveyard of the Void!" ​"He is not Thorne anymore," Winnie said, her hand finding mine. Her skin was ice cold, but her eyes were burning with that violet fire I had grown to love. "He is just a vessel for the Master."

“But I was not going to fight his army, I'm going to fight him” “Dante thinks he is safe. He is not. He cares about the baby. That makes him weak. I am going to call the Vane brothers “I said to Silas. “ They are mercenaries. They will help me.” “ They are dangerous.” Silas said “I did not care. I want Kayla back. I will do anything to get her.”

The joint mate bond inside my chest was beating steadily, filling my entire body with a sweet, liquid heat and an unyielding sense of absolute confidence. In my hands, I held the heavy leather book—the secret ledger of the silver smuggling operation—along with a stack of original receipts signed in Lady Veronica’s private purple ink. I did not need a piece of paper to remember what to say. The truth was written clearly in my mind. I raised my right hand, holding the dark book high into the air for every citizen to see. "People of the Crescent Phoenix pack," I began, my soft voice carrying across the quiet room with a surprising, crystal-clear power.

A disembodied voice echoed from within the dark fire—ancient, freezing cold, and dripping with mockery. > "You interfere too much, Archivist." > The silver-haired man simply smiled back at the flames. "And you interfere far too little." The dark voice let out a chilling laugh that rattled the surrounding bookshelves. > "Soon... the Seven Thrones will awaken. And when they do... even your precious Last King will fall." > The black flames abruptly snapped out of existence, and the library fell back into its eerie, profound silence. The Archivist turned his gaze toward the distant, unseen horizon where the Blackthorn Kingdom lay. His expression grew deeply thoughtful.

“Think about it. The spell could give you your life back. Your real scent. Your real self. No more voices. No more echoes.” I stared at him. “And what price? Another ritual? More blood magic? I have had enough of your help.” He backed toward the shelves. “Keep the book. Read it when you are alone. The choice is yours. But the binding will finish soon if you do nothing.” I watched him slip away between the tall rows of books. My hands still shook holding the ancient text. The man who had performed the ritual on my unconscious body had just offered me a way out. The library felt too quiet now. I sat down heavily at the table. The book sat in front of me like a trap wrapped in hope. Lorne Voss

Feeling the wetness that was building up. I never felt this with Elvis, was that saying something? ”Tell you what,” he said and raised his head from looking in my bag. ”You do this job for me-no questions asked- or I take you and your bag to the cops.” I gulped, feeling worry stir in the pit of my stomach. The cops. They could choose to tie a lot of thefts to me. ”So, sweetheart,” he said, stepping closer once more.”What will it be?” * * *