# The Warden's Last Memory

Author: Avery M. Blackwood
Site: ReadNovelHub
Canonical: https://readnovelhub.com/novel/the-warden-s-last-memory
Genre: Western-Fantasy-Magic

## World
You can save him once, but the contract will erase what he remembers.

## Tropes
- Enemies to Lovers
- Forced Proximity
- Dark Romance
- Deadly Fate
- Forced Alliance
- Memory-Stealing Curse
- Reluctant Protector
- Romance Fantasy
- Dark Fantasy
- Romantic Suspense
- Action Fantasy
- Magic

## FAQ
### What is The Warden's Last Memory about?
You can save him once, but the contract will erase what he remembers.

### Who is the author of The Warden's Last Memory?
The Warden's Last Memory is written by Avery M. Blackwood. Read Chapter 1 free on ReadNovelHub.

### Is The Warden's Last Memory a Enemies to Lovers story?
Yes. The Warden's Last Memory is tagged for Enemies to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Dark Romance readers looking for North American romance-fantasy tropes.

### Can I read The Warden's Last Memory Chapter 1 for free?
Yes. Chapter 1-5 Free. Chapter 6+ starts with a 3-day free trial, then $9.90/week. Start The Warden's Last Memory on ReadNovelHub.

### What happens at the start of The Warden's Last Memory?
"Don't even breathe, Vey. One twitch and I'll snap your wrist like a dry twig." Riven Holt slammed me against the damp brick wall so hard the air left my lungs in a pathetic wheeze.

## Chapter 1 teaser
### Blood and Ink

"Don't even breathe, Vey. One twitch and I'll snap your wrist like a dry twig." Riven Holt slammed me against the damp brick wall so hard the air left my lungs in a pathetic wheeze. His forearm was a steel bar across my throat. I could smell the rain on his leather coat and something sharper—cold iron and ozone. Spellbreaker. I clawed at his sleeve, my boots scuffing the grime of Gallowglass City. "Get... off... me," I managed. It sounded more like a plea than a demand. "Where is it?" His voice was a low grate, vibrating right against my collarbone. He didn't budge. Those predatory gray eyes scanned my face, hunting for the lie. "The living contract," he pressed. "You don't just walk out of the High Vault with a sentient piece of fate and think you're going for a stroll." I forced a grin, even as my windpipe closed. "Maybe I just like the scenery in the slums, Holt. Ever been here? It's lovely this time of year." He tightened his grip. The brick dug into my shoulder blades. "I'm not in the mood for courier wit. Give it to me, or I'll let the Council's hounds tear the skin off your back to find where you hid it." "I don't have it," I lied. Copper taste. That was the taste of the lie. The contract wasn't *with* me. It was *in* me. I could feel it pulsing under my skin—frantic, living ink that had crawled into my veins the second I touched the scroll. Liquid fire. It was humming a song only I could hear, and it was hungry. Riven shifted, pressing me deeper into the wall. He leaned in, lips inches from my ear, breath warm against the night chill. "You're a terrible liar, Mara. Your heart is hammering like a trapped bird. I can feel it through your chest." It was suffocating. I could see the tiny scar cutting through his left eyebrow, the hard line of his jaw. He was too clo

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