A Poison Apple Book Novels & Stories

She shattered it like it meant nothing. And last night... last night was worse. She set fire to all my books. Every single one I’d scraped and saved to buy over the years, collecting them like pieces of a home I never had. I had twenty-two of them. Twenty-two small, fragile worlds where no one screamed, no one hit, no one called me worthless. And in less than a minute, they were gone—turned to ash right in front of me. She said I told Daddy she doesn’t take care of us.

He was afraid a fight would break out, so he sent me, his wife, away. It seemed I had given myself to the wrong person all these years. I barely slept that night. My dreams were filled with Wayne and Jessy. I dreamed of our first meeting. Jessy had hidden behind Wayne, acting all sweet and shy. She called herself his sister. I greeted her politely. That very night, she claimed to lose a pearl necklace Wayne had given her—worth 200 thousand dollars. It was eventually found in my purse. I panicked and tried to explain myself, but Wayne merely shielded Jessy and looked at me coldly.

Several bodyguards stood guard around him, already questioning what happened and who he was. My eyes landed on the vial of poison I took from him. It was the same type I had encountered before. This poison was lethal. One small taste and death would arrive in seconds. It was dangerous and unpredictable, a tool only useful when handled with extreme caution. I slipped it into my wallet and looked toward the apple tree. There were fruits hanging low, just within reach if I stretched a little. Smiling, I stepped to the far side of the balcony, reached out, and successfully grabbed one apple. My gaze drifted to another fruit.

He went very still, the way he always did when I touched him first. "Ava," he said quietly. “I am not ready. I said pulling my hand back.” "I wasn't going to ask." He chipped in "Then what?" He looked at me for a long moment. The rain hammered against the windows. Somewhere in the building, a neighbor was playing piano badly. "I was going to say thank you," he said. "For letting me stay." Alex remembered everything. I mentioned once, in passing, that I had loved a specific brand of apricot jam as a child but hadn't found it in years. Three days later, a jar appeared on my studio windowsill with a note, Found it. No big deal!

After I finished with Austin, I turned my face to Alpha Zane, "Alpha Zane, please elaborate on the effects of the poison you sent over." "Okay. It's a highly contagious but non-lethal poison. It is water soluble and smells a bit like the odor of apples. The poisoned person will itch all over and scratch uncontrollably to bleed, and the more they scratch, the itchier they become." " Anyone else who touches the blood of the poisoned person will be immediately infected. I believe that three days is enough time for more than half of the poison wolves to be infected." Alpha Zane pulled out a sealed glass vial with red powder and a bone whistle. Then he handed them to Austin and me respectively.

The part where Alpha Nicholas was poisoned. “ He wasn’t poisoned!” I shouted to Apollo. He laughs at my attempt and continues to walk back and forth in front of me like he’s telling a very happy story. He grins and bit on his apple. “ Not right, you gave him the cup which turned something on him. Your brother is very fascinated with the work of nature, but he wasn’t really meticulous,” he added. “ N-No…no…no…” Apollo kicks something. It’s a chair or plate, something metal. I decided to close my eyes and block every word that he’s trying to say.

But here, in the dim, flickering light of the dying fire, he looked up at Ivy with eyes that were no longer just golden; they were shattered. The scratches on his arm, where Ivy’s nails had carved into his skin during the peak of their visceral union, were not glowing with magic—they were weeping a dark, sluggish fluid that seemed to drain the very iron from his resolve. The "poison" Ivy had mentioned wasn't a supernatural curse; it was a potent, concentrated sedative found in the hidden compartment of the 1890 box, a "last resort" the first Isabella had prepared for a Moretti who refused to be tamed.

In it where greenish slimy substances, “This is what the water truly looks like” Edgar smiled at her proudly. “Woah!” Dylan smiled at her, “That was awesome Cleopatra” Edgar walked towards a small stack of books, looked through them and slipped one out. It was a large book with red leather cover. It was dusty indicating it had not been opened in a long time, “We have been looking in the wrong books Cleopatra”, the book landed with a thud sending dusts in the air, “This is a book on poison”

I asked still pointing the gun at him but in a relaxed manner now. "I have no reason to poison your food ma'am, I don't even know you, so why would I poison your food," he asked and one can tell that he is surprised by the interrogation, even I was getting tired of it all. Poor guy. “Stand up,” I said shifting my gaze between him and the food while gulping down hard on my saliva, I was so certain that I must have unknowing gulped down my invincible Adam's apple, the aroma of the food was so tempting that the only thing I wished I was doing this moment, is eating them all.

She swallowed. “She spoke in riddles, mostly. But she spoke about a Book.” Her throat worked. “A Book old enough to kill Alphas. A thing that moves with the moon. A thing that calls to the ones the darkness has touched.” She lifted her arm between us. The black veins were stark against her skin. “Touched. Like me.” I went still.