Ascendance Of A Bookworm Novels & Stories

He is still calm, still terrifying, still impossible to read. "You touched me," he says. "That is more than most students achieve in their first month." "It took me weeks to get here," I say. "It took you weeks to unlearn what you thought you knew." He steps back and taps his stick against the floor. "Your eyes taught you to see the world one way. Now you know there is another way. That is the breakthrough. Not strength nor speed but understanding." He turns and walks to the far wall of the underground space, his stick guiding him with perfect precision.

I never said I wasn't into it, but in this situation, I couldn't bring myself to beg. "You want someone else?" I demanded, crossing my arms. His head snapped up, and his eyes shifted into golden, slit-like pupils. I yelped, stumbling forward and crashing into his chest. Those cold, otherworldly eyes locked onto me, glinting like polished gems. I pressed against his chest, my gaze darting. "Ch-Charles?" I stammered, wondering if it was a hallucination. This was some straight-up Beauty-and-the-Beast-level craziness. I could not process it.

The scent of warm bread and honeyed root filled the air, and he brought it to me on a wooden tray. “You’re not hunting today?” I asked, surprised. He shook his head with a soft smile. “Not leaving your side.” I smiled gratefully and took a bite, but before I could even swallow, a strange humming filled the air, a low vibration, faint but growing. My gaze shifted across the room until it landed on the Living Book. It was trembling, glowing slightly along its spine, as if stirred by something beyond our realm. Zevarion and I exchanged a glance. My pulse quickened. I reached out slowly, hesitating before my fingers touched the cover. The moment I opened it, ink poured across the page like spill

Then she stepped inside and did not leave until the lamps began their evening shift. She moved along the lower shelves first, reading spines without touching, noting which sections carried the wear of regular consultation. The oldest texts were in languages she did not know, their scripts circular and elegant, but she could read the organisational logic of the sections even without understanding their content. She had always been a better reader than anyone expected of her — wolfless girls were not invited to social hours in Ravenglade, which meant she had spent her childhood in the pack's archive while others spent theirs in more comfortable rooms, and she had used the time well. She worked

Kennedy POV. The weather was bad, but I needed to get that new book, it's Robert birthday gift, who'd knew a grown up man would kill for the newest werewolf love book. I got into my car, drove carefully toward the local book store, they had the new book reserved for me. It was supposed to one quick drive, until I walked into the library. A girl was sitting on a bean bag, her blond hair was covering her eyes with overgrown bangs, she tried to huff them away from her face but to no use. She looked young, maybe she's just here with her parents, looking down at the book she had in her hands it was a kids story. Does she read for the local kids? Or is it just for her?

The title was embossed in faded silver script: Vampiric Death and Rebirth. My heart began to pound. This was it. This had to be it. I opened the cover, the pages yellowed and brittle. The text was handwritten in an elegant, spidery script, the ink the color of dried blood. I scanned the passages, skipping over dense paragraphs about blood rites and soul transference, until a particular chapter heading caught my eye: "The Phoenix Ascendant."

something that she wasn’t paying attention to. Quick as a flash Levy got off the bed and started looking through the books that she brought, her eyes skimming through the title of each chapter. “ Soul resurrection, how to make Sorcerer's stone, summoning of the great wizard, making of the wand, law of Hamartia…” she read the title of each chapter before reaching the end of the book. And just like the notebooks’ there wasn’t even the slightest hint of the spell called soul fetching, how was this possible? The book had an entire thirty-page chapter on soul resurrection but not soul fetching.

Betty filled my coffee cup. I wiped a crusty cluster of sediment from the corner of my eyes and mumbled, "Thank you." She gave me a sad smile and shuffled back into the stacks. I groaned, sipping coffee the consistency of motor oil. Time to get back to work. I sure as hell wasn't going to leave it alone. Not when I was so close to the answers I wanted. Fire brewed in my belly. I picked up the book in front of me. A demonology book. The history of incubi.

This time, I was ready to become a studious person in order to get closer to Adrian, Adrian is a bookworm who has known diverse information from time immemorial up to this present day while I am clueless on any event that's going on. I went into the library as I was determined to know the history of the werewolf pack, entering into the library, I went to the history section in the library, the first thing that discouraged me was that the books there were so big and enormous. I pondered on how I was going to start reading the books, and it was not only one in which I was meant to read. I was meant to read close to three books, although I was discouraged I decided not to give up on my mission

Damien looked at the book Charlotte was holding and noticed that it was a historical book with the legends of dragons . " You choose a rather interesting book . " said king Damien with a smirk . " Huh ? " said Charlotte confused as she looked at the book . " It's a historical book of our world , one of the oldest with legends that have passed down from generation to generation . It has a lot of geographical, archeology and alchemy elements . Will you be able to understand it ? " said king Damien . ' Is he really asking that question to a prodigy student like me ?! He is a king . I am surprised how he hasn't even gotten a CV of mine from the human world . ' thought Charlotte as she flipped th