Antique Spell Books Novels & Stories

Whatever the lycans do will definitely be traced back to me, so I just have to plan carefully before I have Dymion knocking down the walls of my packhouse just to get to me. I gave them my instructions and after they left, I sat in my dimly lit office, my brow furrowed in concentration as I went over the ancient spell books spread out before me. The pages were filled with detailed symbols and incantations, proof of the powerful magic they contained. These were the very books Ameera had been so desperate to keep from me, her betrayal is still fresh in my mind. I still can’t believe that she was planning to hand these books with these dangerous spells to him. He would have killed us all and it

“What is it?” “A translation of the Aeternum Codex,” she said. “It’s one of the oldest spellbooks recorded by the first time-mages. I found it in the Elven archives — well, technically I wasn’t supposed to be there, but no one was guarding the section labeled ‘Ancient Theoretical Chronomancy,’ so…” I stared at her. “You stole from the royal library?” “Borrowed,” she said quickly. “Temporarily. You can thank me later.”

He reached into the symbol, pulling out an old leather bound book. "This, my dear, is a very important grimoire, it's written in ancient Irish Gaelic. Duibhne will have to read it and explain what it says. The book contains all of your Shadowsoul bloodline spells and curses, including the remedies," he said solemnly as he slid the large book across the table to me. I was about to touch the old book when my mother invaded my thoughts screaming about the grimoire.

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Her mind is a million miles away, and I leave her to her thoughts as I get lost in my own, remembering the day on the altar when Agatha tried to force us into mating. When Willow is done nursing Adare, she hands him back to me, and I change him in front of the fireplace, glad that Willow remembered to bring the nappy bag with her. I’m still busy dressing him when my mate comes back, carrying a very heavy and very old book. “I found the spell.” Of course she did. Why did I ever doubt her? “And?” “I…it’s written in ancient Latin. Breaking this spell…” she shakes her head and goes quiet.

It has been too long since I opened the door. The drowsiness started to drift and soon I was able to think straight. I have been collecting valuables and various books since childhood. Since every battle. Some of them were relics, I gathered from the fallen alphas who once stood in my path. Others carries much more values as they carry the wisdom of millennia and some powerful spells I stole from Hecate before breaking our paths. I opened the lower most drawer knowing there were only two books, one with titled ‘The book of curses and potions’ and another I was looking for, ‘The book of Dead’. I didn’t open it and put it in my bag before walking out my study.

She pushed that down deep, sipping from stored bags in the fridge. Rain hammered the windows that Tuesday night. Lydia sat at her desk, sorting through a box of new books. One caught her eye: Spirits of the Wild: Bindings and Releases. The cover was cracked leather, smelling like dirt and old forests. She flipped it open, her fingers brushing over faded words in some ancient tongue. "Just a peek," she told herself. Curiosity burned in her chest. She read the spell aloud, soft and quick, like testing a locked door. The air changed. It got heavy, like before a storm. Candles on the shelves flickered wild, shadows dancing on the walls. A rumble started low, from the book itself. Lydia's hands s

“I will leave these for you to read through so you can see her descension into black magic and maybe one of you can pick up on anything we might have missed. I have magically blurred the pages which deal with straight black magic; those spells and locations on ingredients are not things we need just anyone to read about or have access to. My circle and I have already hunted down several persons of interest mentioned in here, but we have several more to go.” I look over at the books again and one seems to be different than the others. It has a light glow about it, and it sounds like it’s whispering to me. I feel compelled to hold it and read it. Giselle looks over at me then back at the book

Mollie whispered, her lantern beam sweeping across the walls of the cavern. Surrounding the entire perimeter of the chamber were high oak bookcases, packed to capacity with thousands of ancient, leather-bound scrolls, heavy iron-clasped volumes, and loose parchments covered in faded red ink. These were not the standard accounting ledgers or historical texts kept in the keep's main library; these were the forbidden texts of the ancient packs, books detailing blood covenants, mind-binding spells, and forgotten rituals that had been outlawed by the regional council two centuries ago.

Countless books lined the shelves. Leaning forward, I picked up an old, rusty spellbook. After brushing off the dust and cobwebs, I opened it to find potions, magics, and spells of all kinds. “But how do I know which is the right one?” I wondered aloud. A brief silence followed. Then, a noise came from the back. My heart skipped. Moving closer to investigate, I spotted a small, aged book on the floor. Picking it up, I skimmed the first few pages. The book focused mainly on werewolves. Opening it further, my eyes widened—there, written boldly on the middle page, were potions, spells, and a cure for werewolf illness.