Reaper's Promise

Β· Palbert City Underground αžŸαŸ€αžœαž—αŸ…αž‘αžΈ 3 Β· Ryenne Renner
αžŸαŸ€αžœαž—αŸ…β€‹αž’αŸαž‘αž·αž…αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαž“αž·αž…
117
αž‘αŸ†αž–αŸαžš
αž˜αžΆαž“αžŸαž·αž‘αŸ’αž’αž·
αž€αžΆαžšαžœαžΆαž™αžαž˜αŸ’αž›αŸƒ αž“αž·αž„αž˜αžαž·αžœαžΆαž™αžαž˜αŸ’αž›αŸƒαž˜αž·αž“αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαžœαž”αžΆαž“αž•αŸ’αž‘αŸ€αž„αž•αŸ’αž‘αžΆαžαŸ‹αž‘αŸ αžŸαŸ’αžœαŸ‚αž„αž™αž›αŸ‹αž”αž“αŸ’αžαŸ‚αž˜

αž’αŸ†αž–αžΈαžŸαŸ€αžœαž—αŸ…β€‹αž’αŸαž‘αž·αž…αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαž“αž·αž€αž“αŸαŸ‡

Raven


Life has been rough. I mean, after being alive for two and a half centuries, things are bound to happen, I know that. Having said that, not many vampires are forced to put down their own sire. Not every vampire attracts the attention of a death crazed reaper who gets pleasure from the pain he inflicts. Being rescued by my new family is the best thing that could have happened to me. It's taken almost a hundred years, but I'm finally starting to feel free again. All my pain and terror are manageable... until I see him. They say he's different, that I can trust him. I want to believe that. I start to believe that. Then, he shows me who he really is.


Ryne


I wasn't always a good guy. I'm a reaper. We aren't known for our good behavior. I've spent the past nine hundred years taking those ready to leave this existence and sending them to their next one. And some who weren't ready. Alright. Fine. A lot that weren't ready. But a being can change, right? I think so. I hope so. I have a lot of things to make up for and I'm trying my damnedest to right some wrongs. Finding my mate? I never expected that. Not many reapers are blessed with one. Instead of being happy to find me, my mate runs and after hearing why, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to convince her to trust me. Hell, maybe she's right to be scared because the hunters are back and I'm about to unleash the worst version of myself on the world to keep her safe...

αžœαžΆαž™αžαž˜αŸ’αž›αŸƒαžŸαŸ€αžœαž—αŸ…β€‹αž’αŸαž‘αž·αž…αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαž“αž·αž€αž“αŸαŸ‡

αž”αŸ’αžšαžΆαž”αŸ‹αž™αžΎαž„αž’αŸ†αž–αžΈαž€αžΆαžšαž™αž›αŸ‹αžƒαžΎαž‰αžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αŸ”

αž’αžΆαž“β€‹αž–αŸαžαŸŒαž˜αžΆαž“

αž‘αžΌαžšαžŸαž–αŸ’αž‘αž†αŸ’αž›αžΆαžαžœαŸƒ αž“αž·αž„β€‹αžαŸαž”αŸ’αž›αŸαž
αžŠαŸ†αž‘αžΎαž„αž€αž˜αŸ’αž˜αžœαž·αž’αžΈ Google Play Books αžŸαž˜αŸ’αžšαžΆαž”αŸ‹ Android αž“αž·αž„ iPad/iPhone αŸ” αžœαžΆβ€‹αž’αŸ’αžœαžΎαžŸαž˜αž€αžΆαž›αž€αž˜αŸ’αž˜β€‹αžŠαŸ„αž™αžŸαŸ’αžœαŸαž™αž”αŸ’αžšαžœαžαŸ’αžαž·αž‡αžΆαž˜αž½αž™β€‹αž‚αžŽαž“αžΈβ€‹αžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αž’αŸ’αž“αž€β€‹ αž“αž·αž„β€‹αž’αž“αž»αž‰αŸ’αž‰αžΆαžαž±αŸ’αž™β€‹αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αž’αžΆαž“αž–αŸαž›β€‹αž˜αžΆαž“αž’αŸŠαžΈαž“αž’αžΊαžŽαž·αž αž¬αž‚αŸ’αž˜αžΆαž“β€‹αž’αŸŠαžΈαž“αž’αžΊαžŽαž·αžβ€‹αž“αŸ…αž‚αŸ’αžšαž”αŸ‹αž‘αžΈαž€αž“αŸ’αž›αŸ‚αž„αŸ”
αž€αž»αŸ†αž–αŸ’αž™αžΌαž‘αŸαžšβ€‹αž™αž½αžšαžŠαŸƒ αž“αž·αž„αž€αž»αŸ†αž–αŸ’αž™αžΌαž‘αŸαžš
αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αž’αžΆαž…αžŸαŸ’αžŠαžΆαž”αŸ‹αžŸαŸ€αžœαž—αŸ…αž‡αžΆαžŸαŸ†αž‘αŸαž„αžŠαŸ‚αž›αž”αžΆαž“αž‘αž·αž‰αž“αŸ…αž€αŸ’αž“αž»αž„ Google Play αžŠαŸ„αž™αž”αŸ’αžšαžΎαž€αž˜αŸ’αž˜αžœαž·αž’αžΈαžšαž»αž€αžšαž€αžαžΆαž˜αž’αŸŠαžΈαž“αž’αžΊαžŽαž·αžαž€αŸ’αž“αž»αž„αž€αž»αŸ†αž–αŸ’αž™αžΌαž‘αŸαžšαžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αŸ”
eReaders αž“αž·αž„β€‹αž§αž”αž€αžšαžŽαŸβ€‹αž•αŸ’αžŸαŸαž„β€‹αž‘αŸ€αž
αžŠαžΎαž˜αŸ’αž”αžΈαž’αžΆαž“αž“αŸ…αž›αžΎβ€‹αž§αž”αž€αžšαžŽαŸ e-ink αžŠαžΌαž…αž‡αžΆβ€‹αž§αž”αž€αžšαžŽαŸαž’αžΆαž“β€‹αžŸαŸ€αžœαž—αŸ…αž’αŸαž‘αž·αž…αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαž“αž·αž€ Kobo αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αž“αžΉαž„αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαžœβ€‹αž‘αžΆαž‰αž™αž€β€‹αž―αž€αžŸαžΆαžš αž αžΎαž™β€‹αž•αŸ’αž‘αŸαžšαžœαžΆαž‘αŸ…β€‹αž§αž”αž€αžšαžŽαŸβ€‹αžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αž’αŸ’αž“αž€αŸ” αžŸαžΌαž˜αž’αž“αž»αžœαžαŸ’αžαžαžΆαž˜β€‹αž€αžΆαžšαžŽαŸ‚αž“αžΆαŸ†αž›αž˜αŸ’αž’αž·αžαžšαž”αžŸαŸ‹αž˜αž‡αŸ’αžˆαž˜αžŽαŸ’αžŒαž›αž‡αŸ†αž“αž½αž™ αžŠαžΎαž˜αŸ’αž”αžΈαž•αŸ’αž‘αŸαžšαž―αž€αžŸαžΆαžšβ€‹αž‘αŸ…αž§αž”αž€αžšαžŽαŸαž’αžΆαž“αžŸαŸ€αžœαž—αŸ…β€‹αž’αŸαž‘αž·αž…αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαž“αž·αž€αžŠαŸ‚αž›αžŸαŸ’αž‚αžΆαž›αŸ‹αŸ”

αž”αž“αŸ’αžαžŸαŸŠαŸαžšαžΈ

αž…αŸ’αžšαžΎαž“αž‘αŸ€αžαžŠαŸ„αž™ Ryenne Renner

αžŸαŸ€αžœαž—αŸ…β€‹αž’αŸαž‘αž·αž…αžαŸ’αžšαžΌαž“αž·αž€β€‹αžŸαŸ’αžšαžŠαŸ€αž„αž‚αŸ’αž“αžΆ