The Dreamer: The Keepers, #0

By Meg Anne

Kieran, crown prince of Eatos, has everything. And nothing.

The glitter and sparkle of the royal court only serves to conceal a harrowing life and a deep secret that will cost Kieran his title and the love of his family. It's a secret he thinks he can keep.

But somethings can't remain hidden.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Words that Sparkle
• Release date: Jul 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393841067

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 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; sunburns hurt! 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.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Kieran bolted upright, beads of sweat trickling down his back and chest as he fought to catch his breath. Scenes of the horrific battle superimposed themselves over his reality. He fisted his hands in the sheets that pooled at his hips and fought the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him.

Breathing through his nose, he willed his racing heart to slow, while the echoes of her pain continued to radiate through his body. He’d been dreaming of her since he was a child, and never in his hundred and twenty-six years had he experienced something so intense as the dream that had just woken him. Kieran could still feel her heart breaking as if it was his own.

Kieran lifted a shaking hand to brush back the tangled strands of long, damp hair that clung to his face. It took several long moments for his breathing to even out and for his room to come into focus.

Somewhere in the world, perhaps another world entirely, a girl with golden-blonde hair and wide, cornflower-blue eyes was about to watch the man she loved die to save her.

Effie, he whispered, the sound of her name breaking the silence.

Kieran had practically grown up with the mysterious girl from his dreams. It took him decades to realize she was not merely a figment of his imagination. It was even longer before he realized, real or not, he may never meet her. That would require knowing where she was, and all he had to go off of was a name. Hardly a good start. The fact, however, did little to quell his response to her. After bearing witness to so many of Effie’s life-defining moments, he felt connected to her in a way he’d never come close to feeling with anyone else.

It’s what made her pain unbearable.

Not for the first time, Kieran wished he could go to her. Wrap his arms around her and comfort her. It was the worst kind of hell to care for someone you could never have.

Kieran sucked in a breath and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Going back to sleep now would be impossible. There would be no peace found there anyway, only the haunting echo of her screams. As his feet touched the cool stone floor, the jolt of cold helped to further ground him, although flashes of his dream continued to torment him.

His head dipped to his chest, the loose strands of his hair falling forward and concealing his face. There was no logical explanation for why he had these dreams. No reason at all why he should care so much about someone he’d never met. Someone who didn’t know he existed.

It was bad enough when he’d watched her fall in love with the golden-haired warrior. He’d woken from the dream of their first kiss only to slam his fist into an antique mirror. But this…nothing had prepared him for this. It was so much worse watching her fight tooth and nail to crawl toward her lover’s burning body.

Kieran grit his teeth, his fingers biting into the wood of his bed frame until a splinter buried itself in his flesh. He hissed with pain and dug out the sliver of wood in the dim moonlight that filtered in from the balcony. Thankfully, the physical pain helped to chase away the ghosts of his dream.

Relief had his shoulders drooping. If that’s what it took, he’d gladly surrender to the pain. He’d work himself to the bone so long as sweet oblivion waited for him at the end. Anything was better than this.

Kieran stood, a plan starting to take shape in his mind. He’d left the doors to the balcony open before he’d gone to bed, and he shivered as the cool breeze washed over his sweat-dampened skin. He dressed quickly, not paying attention to what he picked up off the floor. Within minutes, he was out the door and heading toward the stairs.

Prince Kieran!

Kieran froze, his back going rigid at the gasp of surprise. His eyes fell closed, and he bit back a curse. He hadn’t been prepared to run into anyone. Luckily, he had years of practice when it came to courtly protocol and suppressing his true emotions.

He spun around, his face schooled into an impassive mask. Dalton, he replied, his voice a bored drawl.

Forgive me, my prince. The older man had a hand pressed against his chest, the pale skin standing out in sharp contrast to the scarlet of his uniform. You startled me. Had I known you were still up, I would have remained at my post.

One side of Kieran’s mouth quirked up. Teasing Dalton was one of his favorite games. "And why have you abandoned your post, my dear Dalton?" he asked, his head tilting inquisitively.

The butler blanched and nervously licked his lips. I had thought to go to bed, my prince, given the late hour.

Don’t let me keep you then.

Dalton blinked at him with conflicted mahogany eyes. As the butler, protocol dictated that he could not retire for the evening so long as one of the royal family was still awake. However, it also forbade him from disobeying a direct order. Kieran’s seemingly thoughtful response had just placed Dalton square in the middle of a procedural nightmare. The butler fidgeted, a sure sign of his distress.

Usually, Kieran considered that a victory, but there was no amusement to be had tonight. If anything, Kieran felt guilty. He frowned, not sure when his teasing had shifted from a fun indulgence to petty bullying.

Go, he said, his voice soft. The butler opened his mouth to protest, but Kieran shook his head. Your secret is safe with me.

Th-Thank you, my prince. Dalton bowed once before scurrying up the stairs.

Kieran waited a moment to ensure he was alone before continuing on his way to the sparring room. As expected, the room was empty. He picked up one of the practice swords hanging on the wall and moved to the center of the room.

As the crown prince of Eatos, he’d been expected to train alongside his father’s men, even though their purpose was to ensure he’d never need to take up the sword. At first, Kieran had rebelled against what he’d deemed an unnecessary waste of time, but over the years, he’d come to appreciate the mental discipline the practice required. It was