Book Hood Novels & Stories

“Is there a reason you’re trying to make me feel small? I don’t back down that easily.” “Hm… wasn’t thinking of it.” “Really? Then what were you thinking about?” “Maybe later. Now isn’t the time to talk about it. How long will it take for you people to get here?” “Oh, the Hounds will be here in the next two or three hours, and they come bearing food, gents. Hilda’s cooked and packed some spare things from our Christmas Fare. So, eating will be good.” “The Hounds?” Hal looked up from his computer for possibly the first time since she entered the room and dropped the information on them. None really had looked surprised, which was odd with nothing else considered.

user"> *]:pointer-events-auto [content-visibility:auto] supports-[content-visibility:auto]:[contain-intrinsic-size:auto_100lvh] R6Vx5W_threadScrollVars scroll-mb-[calc(var(--scroll-root-safe-area-inset-bottom,0px)+var(--thread-response-height))] scroll-mt-[calc(var(--header-height)+min(200px,max(70px,20svh)))]" dir="auto" data-turn-id="request-WEB:1bab1602-02c7-490f-acc7-d58db0266859-14" data-testid="conversation-turn-30" data-scroll-anchor="false" data-turn="assistant"> After that, Odin dismissed everyone else. Hod gave me a deliberate wink, as if hinting at something, and led the long procession of dark priests out of the bedroom. Realizing where I was, I straightened up and said:

I love books, and seeing this one lying on the floor hurts my heart. Looking around, I pick up the book and tuck it underneath my hoodie, the glowing stops immediately. It doesn’t take long for me to get home, and when I do, I pull the book out of my hoodie. “You poor thing.” I mutter as my fingers tremble on the yellowed pages of the book. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Skyler, the girl who stutters through small talk, who hides behind oversized hoodies and thick glasses because words always tangle in my throat when real people are around.

“She guards what is powerful.” “Well,” I said, “that’s inconvenient. I don’t think Home Depot sells haunted drill bits.” He gave me a long, patient look. “You would drill through an ancient enchantment?” “It’s called problem-solving.” “It’s called suicide.” “Semantics.” --- The mirror shivered under his hand. Light rippled through the glass like liquid gold. Brenda groaned deep in the walls — half warning, half sigh. “Okay,” I said. “That’s officially creepy.”

I will be waiting here". Mason ushered Callum to go to the washroom. He checked himself in the mirror for one more time before exiting the room, following Mason downstairs to the study as he said. Mason opened the door to yet another big room. It had book shelves neatly arranged with thousands of copies. A fireplace. Dark colored carpet under the feet. It had sofas, couches. And a working table at the other end. Since Callum loved to read books, this room was so far his favorite. Well between the room given to him and the dining hall. Callum POV *******

My legs wobbled beneath me, the floor cold against my bare feet. I ran my hands over my body frantically, checking everywhere. My arms, my legs, my torso. I even pulled at the oversized hoodie draped over me to check beneath. No stab wounds. No bullet holes. No missing pieces. My lungs filled, and I breathed out in shaky relief. “Phew,” I whispered. “Thank God. I’m safe.” But my relief didn’t last. Because I realized something else. The hoodie wasn’t mine. It was big, black, soft against my skin. And it smelled God, it smelled of something masculine and dark. Rich leather. Expensive tobacco.

--- That night, Ava’s penthouse was quiet again. Too quiet. She poured herself a drink, then turned when she heard a creak. No one should have been there. And yet… she wasn’t alone. The lights flickered. Then everything went black. When they came back on, a man in a black hood stood in the middle of the living room. She dropped the glass. “Who are you?” she asked, voice calm even though her hands shook. He didn’t speak. Just took something from his pocket. A card.

My breath fogged in the cold air of my room, and I swore I saw shadows curling beneath the door before they vanished. I didn’t sleep after that. Instead, I rose before dawn and headed out toward the Bonewood. It wasn’t part of our usual territory—not claimed, not watched. The Bonewood was ancient, wild, a place even rogues avoided. Some said it was cursed. Others said it was the place where the curse had started. I didn’t tell Mara where I was going. I couldn’t. She’d try to stop me. Silas might’ve too. But I needed answers. And the dreams were pulling me here.

He handed the small liquid bottle over to the hooded man. The hooded man gripped the bottle tightly, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of desperation and malice. "Are you sure this will make him go all out?" he whispered fiercely, staring at the clear fluid. "This is our absolute last chance. We need to bring him down tomorrow. I am not letting him take that cup from us."

Dust motes drifting lazily through the air. Beautiful. Ancient. Comfortable. The sort of place stories dreamed about. Nobody moved. Then Hope stepped forward. Naturally. "No." Void caught her hood immediately. Excellent instincts. The family stared through the doorway. And then— someone walked out. The entire rooftop froze. An elderly woman emerged slowly from between the shelves. Silver hair. Kind eyes. Long dark coat covered in embroidered constellations. She carried a stack of books balanced carefully in one arm. Not surprised. Not alarmed.