Backstory Book Novels & Stories

And if the omega doesn't, I could trust that she had reasons for her disobedience, even if they are rarely apparent. “Where is the book now?” “Huh?” “The book about our past story.” Her eyes almost turned dark, head whipping to meet my eyes, feral. “Why?” It was more of a defensive stance than the aggression that drove me. I heard about the book from Jade, the last piece of proof about our past lives. As much as the vision had told me everything I needed, there were a lot of gaps in the story. So many things didn’t make sense, and I wanted to fill in those pieces.

“Since you’re back, are you going to pick the next book?” I blinked. “Me?” “Of course,” she said, smiling. “You’ve been gone. You deserve the honor.” Everyone nodded expectantly. I looked down at the stack of books on the table, my fingers brushing across their covers. My hand paused on a novel about love, identity and societal expectations. This book will give them a glimpse of what I passed through during my absence. I smiled softly. “How about this one?” Brent groaned. “Oh no, not another depressing tragedy. Can’t we read something with a hopeful romance?”

“That’s what I meant.” “The books and movies are incorrect,” Rowan informed him. “The vampire and the werewolf originated in one of earth’s alternate dimensions. It is a dimension that is far more beautiful and pleasant a place to be. We were exiled here as punishment for angering Goethe, a powerful god being. Each holds the other at fault for this exile. Hence the hatred, resentment, and constant battling.

Although I would be lying if I said they didn't hurt a little. "I'm going to get your shadows moving faster, so let's start." **** Author's Note: I will be writing about each of their back stories and their parents later in the book. I'll also be mixing in some of my characters from The Ember in The Dark. Don't worry if you haven't read the book. You'll see them through Zerena's eyes. Let me know who's back story you're most excited to learn about!

We're serving the Lycans instead. I placed the book back as it wasn't what I was looking for. The next book I picked out was just about the monarchy and how the first king came to be, quite interesting but wasn't what I was looking for at the moment. After a few more picks of boring history books, I finally found one that caught my eyes, “A CHOSEN TALE,” it resembled your old regular books but something about it was different, i couldn't tell what it was. I sat on the ground with my back pressed against the shelf and turned the first page open, “The history of the chosen one,” I whispered. Quite cryptic if you asked me.

Valentina slid into the last stall, locked it, and set the briefcase on the narrow shelf above the toilet. Her hands moved fast, efficient. The key turned with a faint click, and the lid lifted. There it was. The ledger. Black leather, worn at the edges, its pages thick with ink. She flipped it open, her breath catching as names and numbers spilled across the paper: shipments, ports, bribes, politicians bought and paid for—routes carved in blood. It wasn’t just a ledger—it was an empire written in code and ink. Her chest tightened. If Dante wanted this, it wasn’t for leverage—it was for war.

Reading the words that was inscribed on the book, I knew that it was going to be a very good one. Opened it and seeing important information in there. It was the history and the might of the black cities, all about their pack was in the book and I had wondered who had kept the book just laying around like that. I stayed there for a hour reading the book and almost understand up to half of the book. I heard steps in the background coming slowly beside me, At a moment I had thought that it was the maid. And I could not have the time to take a look back at who it was.

Something waiting. --- Determined not to be paralyzed by fear, I returned to the antique bookstore — to the stories, the secrets, the fragments of forgotten women. The elderly owner greeted me with a knowing smile. “You’re searching for answers,” he said quietly. I nodded. He handed me a leather-bound tome, its cover worn but strong — *Reflections of the Forgotten*. “Read carefully,” he advised. “Sometimes the past speaks through shadows.” --- I spent the night poring over its pages. The book told of women trapped in illusions, caught between worlds — ghosts of themselves, struggling to reclaim their true identities.

He sat beside me. I looked at the cover of this book, which was written about the vampire clan. Opens the first page explaining about the vampire kingdom in ancient times. I started reading this book.

The silence was punctuated only by our quiet murmurs, our shared yearning for a past we never knew, a future we desperately wished for. Later, amidst the twisted metal and rubble, James stumbled upon a tattered book, its cover mostly torn away, revealing only a few words—'The Chronicles of Atheria'. The title alone conjured images of a world far removed from our own, a place of magic and wonder, of brave knights and epic quests. The pages, brittle with age and decay, contained fragmented stories, glimpses of a civilization that had flourished before the catastrophe. It spoke of vibrant cities, of advanced technology, and of a society that lived in harmony with its environment.