The Keeper's Vow: A Chosen Novel (The Keepers Book 3)

by Meg Anne

  “Yes, of course. Perhaps my letters will actually reach you this time?”

  Helena gave a watery laugh. “If not, use one of their portals and find me.”

  “It’s a promise,” Effie agreed with a final squeeze. “Until we meet again, Helena.” She let go and gave the others a little wave before starting to turn away.

  “Effie, what will you three do in the meantime?” Helena asked.

  Effie paused in the act of lifting her hood and looked over her shoulder. “I’m going to finish what we started.” With a last smile, she turned away and headed for the door.

  “We,” Lucian said in her mind. “We are going to finish what we started. Together.”

  Effie allowed her fingers to brush against his as she moved past him. “Are you referring to what Nord interrupted upstairs or—”

  Lucian let out a choked groan. “I am now.”

  Twining her fingers through his, Effie gave him a little squeeze. “How about both?”

  “Do I get to pick the order?”

  “I think Sylverlands can use our help first . . . but after?”

  “Count on it. In fact, clear your calendar. I’m claiming the rest of the year. It’s going to take at least that long to do everything I have in mind.”

  “I never thought I’d say this, but I already miss Nord.” Kael sighed and shook his head. “I may not be able to hear what you two are saying, yet I feel like I need to take a shower just walking next to all those hormones.”

  “Just open the damn portal already,” Lucian griped.

  “Hey, Brother, just because you’re suffering from a case of blue balls doesn’t mean you can take it out on me.”

  Effie snorted with laughter as Lucian cuffed Kael on the back of the head.

  “Fine, fine. No need to be so testy.” Kael winked at Effie before ducking through the shimmering portal he’d seamlessly summoned.

  “Ass,” Lucian grunted.

  “Think of it this way,” Effie offered, giving his hand a small tug toward the entrance, “the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can—”

  She didn’t get a chance to finish before Lucian pulled her through, her squeals of laughter ringing out and echoing down the hallway long after it vanished behind them.

  Epilogue

  The Lady of Light sat in her garden and watched the approaching nightfall with no little sense of dread. She knew what the portent brought; what it meant for her children.

  He had finally returned, and he was coming for her.

  The vibrant blooms she’d just plucked withered and died in her hand. It should have been impossible. She was the mother of creation, and death should not exist in her sanctuary. Yet the proof was impossible to ignore.

  There was no time to cry out, no time to hide—not that either would have done any good.

  He was here.

  “Luna.”

  She’d held so many names throughout her immortal existence, but he still remembered her first. That one word uttered in his cold and sensual voice held entirely too much meaning. She’d been named for the moon, the mother that watched over her creation. He’d been named for the night, the endless expanse that held the moon in its glittering darkness.

  “Erebos.”

  Letting her dead flowers drop to the ground, she looked up, trying hard not to recoil at the sight of him. How could someone so evil look so perfectly beautiful?

  “I told you I would return for you, wife.”

  She held her body rigid, promising herself that she would not give him the benefit of a reaction. There was little that the Mother feared . . . but she was desperately afraid of him. Of what he would do to her and her Chosen.

  He stepped closer, trampling the lavender and gray petals as he moved to stand right before her. Fingers that felt like ice brushed her cheek. “Did you really think you could keep me from you for eternity?”

  Despite her promise, Luna shivered. She was too shaken to know whether it was from lust or fear. With him, it was always a mix of both.

  “Everything I’ve ever done has been to protect them.”

  His fingers tightened painfully on her chin, and his eyes of swirling black flashed. “Maybe you should have been more concerned with me.” His expression cleared, and he looked almost giddy. “No matter. I’ve decided to forgive you.”

  “Forgive me?”

  He released her chin and nodded, his smile rapturous. “Oh yes, darling. You see, I’ve finally managed to even the playing field as it were.”

  Closing the distance between them, he brushed his lips over hers. Her body reacted immediately; her nipples hardening and her breath coming out in shallow gasps. It was just as it had always been. She was helpless to resist the feelings he lured to the surface.

  Her eyes fell closed as a tear splashed down her cheek.

  “Ah, Luna. I’ve always loved the sight of your tears,” he whispered, licking the salty bead off of her cheek. “But there’s no reason for them.”

  “How can you say that? You’re going to destroy everything that I love.”

  “No, wife. I am merely teaching you a lesson. Really, you’ve brought this on yourself.”

  “You are underestimating my children.”

  “Perhaps you underestimate mine.”

  Luna scoffed. “The Night Stalkers won’t turn on the Chosen because of this. If anything, it will only strengthen the ties that bind them.”

  The Lord of Death smiled, and it was both cruel and terribly beautiful. “Ah, but you’re already forgetting, wife. You might have your Vessel . . . but now I have mine.”

  Deep within the bowels of the Palace, the Dreamer opened his eyes.

  Note From Meg

  Thank you so much for reading Effie and Lucian’s story. I hope you were as pleased with the outcome as I am! Effie was originally just supposed to play a small role in one book, but I kept finding excuses to weave her in as much as possible. She’s been a special character for me from day one, and I knew she deserved an amazing story. It’s been quite the journey for both of us, sometimes painfully so, but I could not be more pleased that she found Lucian.

  I’m a little gutted to have to say goodbye to her and her Guardian, and for those of you that feel the same, I have some good news! Effie and the Chosen crew will be back (maybe you guessed that by the epilogue) sometime in the next year or so as they hunt for Reyna. Yes, Ronan is finally going to get his own series.

  In the meantime, if you aren’t quite ready to say goodbye to the Guardians just yet, you can check out what Nord’s up to now that he’s on his well-deserved vacation. Read on for an exclusive excerpt from Shade of Danger, a novella in the Monster Ball Anthology. Nord’s and Lina’s story will continue in May 2020 in Hint of Danger, book 1 in my new paranormal romance series Undercover Magic.

  Until next time, happy reading!

  XOXO

  meg@megannewrites.com

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider writing a short review and posting it on Amazon, Bookbub, Goodreads and/or anywhere else you share your love of books. Reviews are very helpful to other readers and are greatly appreciated by authors

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  Shade of Danger Exclusive Sneak Peek

  Nord

  Holding the piece of parchment in his hand, he eyed it as if it were a snake. He trusted the bloody thing about as much as one of the venomous creatures and preferred to be holding it even less. A snake he could strangle. This . . .

  Turning the invitation over once more, he scanned the elegant script. Moonbeams and bullshit if you asked him. The hell he’d be going to a ball.

  Crumpling up the invitation, he chucked it into the aluminum basket beside his desk.

  “What’s that?” his brother-in-arms asked.

  “Garbage,” Nord answered.

  “Mmhmm,” Finle
y murmured, moving around the recliner Nord was sprawled in and plucking the crumpled ball of paper from the bin.

  Nord knew better than to try to stop him. No one told a Guardian what to do. Not without a lot of fists and unnecessary bloodshed.

  Raising a brow, Finley looked back at him. “What’s The Monster Ball?”

  He shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”

  “Where’d you get this?”

  Nord remained silent, not wanting to explain how it just appeared after the moonlight played some kind of trick on him the night before. Finley would send his ass back to the Brotherhood faster than he could blink, and Nord was enjoying his vacation after several centuries of servitude.

  Not that he minded being a Guardian or what it entailed, but sometimes a guy just wanted to enjoy a beer—or ten—and a pretty girl.

  Shaking his head, Finley placed the invitation on top of Nord’s cluttered desk. “You, of all people, should know better than to try to ignore something like this.”

  “You go, then.”

  “I’m not the one who got the invitation.”

  Nord shot his brother a dark look. “I’m not going.”

  “Yes, you are. Do you have something appropriate to wear?”

  Rolling his eyes, Nord hit the volume button on the TV remote, trying to drown out the sound of Finley’s pestering.

  “You can borrow something of mine.”

  Snorting, Nord replied, “As if I could fit in one of your puny shirts.”

  Finley was fit—all those who served in the Brotherhood of Guardians were—but he was easily dwarfed by Nord’s bulk. It would be like trying to wear a child’s shirt.

  Smirking, Finley gestured to Nord’s black t-shirt and jersey shorts. “So you’re going to risk showing up in that?”

  “I already told you I’m not going.”

  “I don’t think you have a choice, mate.”

  Nord snarled, which only made Finley laugh.

  “Not even your bluster is going to get you out of this.”

  “How do you know so much about the damn thing when you hadn’t even heard of The Monster Ball ten seconds ago?”

  Finley’s eyes shone a brilliant silver, the color replacing their usual deep blue. “Some serious magic brought that to you.”

  Unease ran through Nord’s veins as he watched Finley release his power. “You can sense it?” Nord asked, annoyed that he hadn’t thought to check himself. He’d been on vacation for three weeks and had already forgotten the basics.

  Finley nodded. “Not the source, but it’s brimming with power. Nothing I’ve ever seen before. Whoever sent that to you isn’t going to accept your regrets.” Glancing at the clock, Finley shot him another half-grin. “You should probably find something to wear. You’ve only got forty minutes before midnight.”

  Muttering under his breath, Nord pushed himself out of his chair and stalked into his bedroom. Finley tried to follow him, but Nord stopped him with a dark look and a palm to the chest.

  “I think I know how to zip up my pants, asshole.”

  “But what are you going to do about that beard?”

  Nord froze, leveling an icy look at his friend. “What about my beard?”

  Finley chuckled, shaking his head. “Mate. You look like you belong in a cave with a giant club and a bear pelt tied around your waist. Would it kill you to trim the thing? Or at least brush the crumbs out of it.”

  “I do not have crumbs in it!” Nord insisted, moving toward the mirror hanging over his dresser.

  He was not a vain man, but Nord took great pride in his beard. Centuries ago, when he’d been a boy with his tribe, he’d been taught that a man’s beard was a sign he was ready for battle; the fuller the beard, the greater a man’s strength. Now an immortal warrior in his own right, the lesson had never quite left him although many other things had.

  Shrewd blue eyes scanned his tanned reflection. Frowning, Nord had to admit his beard was a bit scragglier than he remembered, the longest part of it reaching his chest. Running his hands along the length of it, he muttered, “Maybe a trim wouldn’t be amiss.”

  Throwing his hands up, Finley cried out, “Thank you!”

  Nord glared at him.

  “We’ll do your hair while we’re at it,” Finley declared, already moving down the hall toward his bathroom.

  “What’s wrong with my hair?”

  Finley shook his head. “No one wears their hair that long anymore, mate.”

  Nord looked in the mirror at the mess of blond hair that hung down his back, not seeing anything wrong with it. It was thick and clean. What more was it supposed to be?

  Coming back into the room, Finley held up his clippers and silver sheers. “Trust me; you’ve been away for so long, you don’t know how to blend in anymore. Let me help you.”

  Grudgingly, Nord nodded. If he was going to this damned ball, he didn’t want to look like an ass.

  Finley cast a pointed glance at Nord’s hands.

  Already knowing what he was going to say, Nord stopped him before he began. “The rings stay.”

  Finley loved to make fun of Nord’s ring collection. Each band was a reminder of a long-ago battle fought and won. No matter what else he’d had to give up when he joined the Brotherhood, he’d refused to leave them behind. They were worn, ancient, and his most cherished possessions.

  His father had crafted the first one after Nord had returned from his first solo hunt, a wild boar slung over his back. He’d used one of the beast’s tusks to create a smooth, ivory-colored ring. It didn’t fit anymore, but Nord still wore it on a chain around his neck.

  The others were of various metals, each one forged from the weapon of a foe he’d slain. The last, the most important, was the one on his left index finger. His people generally saved that finger for their mate bands as it was said to be linked to the heart. Nord had no notions of being mated, having given his life to the Brotherhood. Instead, it’s where he wore the ring he crafted after avenging his father’s death.

  Running his thumb over the smooth band, Nord frowned. Finley could change whatever he wanted about his appearance, but he’d gut the man—brother or not—if he tried to take his rings.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Nord growled.

  Grab your ticket to the Monster Ball here and find out why sometimes what happens at the Monster Ball doesn’t always stay there…

  Acknowledgments

  It’s no secret that writing can be an incredibly lonely job. We create entire worlds in our heads with only a computer screen to share them with, at least until we hit that publish button and our stories go out into the world. Then we just sort of feel nauseous and pray that people would love our worlds as much as we do. It is why so many authors, especially indies, talk about finding their tribe. Without one, there’s only an inevitable sort of madness that would consume us.

  I’ve been so lucky to have found my tribe. (I’m still not entirely sure how I snuck my way in, but they haven’t kicked me out yet!)

  Melissa, Heather, Jessica, Kel, Emigh, Analisa: THANK YOU. No, seriously. Thank you. You motivate me every day to drag my butt to the computer and just keep going. Whether the words are flowing or not, you ladies are there to listen to me talk through plot holes and character arcs, celebrate the days of brilliant prose and work through the clunkers, or just count down the hours until its socially acceptable to drink wine. And I don’t even have to get out of my pajamas.

  More than all of that though, you make a point to check in on me, if not daily definitely multiple times a week, just to say hi and see how I’m doing. You guys genuinely care, not just about me as a writer, but me as a person. You SEE me, and I love you for it, because there’s no judgment there. Only love. Only acceptance.

  When I started this series, I’d just joined your daily sprint group, and I feel like you guys are as much a part of this as I am. Thank you for helping me bring Lucian and Effie to life, and for drooling over Lucian with me when he says something particularly del
icious.

  I love you so much and am thankful every day for each and every one of you.

  Also By Meg Anne

  Fantasy Romance

  The Chosen Universe

  The Chosen

  Mother of Shadows

  Reign of Ash

  Crown of Embers

  Queen of Light

  The Keepers

  The Dreamer – A Keepers Story

  The Keeper’s Legacy

  The Keeper’s Retribution

  The Keeper’s Vow

  Paranormal Romance

  Cursed Hearts

  Co-Written with Jessica Wayne

  Star-Crossed

  Amria

  Supernova

  Cursed Hearts: The Complete Collection

  The Grimm Brotherhood

  Co-Written with Kel Carpenter

  Reaper’s Blood (Coming Early 2020)

  Undercover Magic

  Hint of Danger (Coming May 2020)

  Anthologies

  The Monster Ball Year 2

  *contains an Undercover Magic prequel novella which takes place after events in The Keeper’s Vow

  ABOUT MEG ANNE

  Meg Anne has always had stories running on a loop in her head. They started off as daydreams about how the evil queen (aka Mom) had her slaving away doing chores; and more recently shifted into creating backgrounds about the people stuck beside her during rush hour. The stories have always been there; they were just waiting for her to tell them.

  Like any true SoCal native, Meg enjoys staying inside curled up with a good book and her cat Henry . . . or maybe that’s just her. You can convince Meg to buy just about anything if it’s covered in glitter or rhinestones, or make her laugh by sharing your favorite bad joke. She also accepts bribes in the form of baked goods and Mexican food.