Book Hounds Mga Nobela at Kwento

“The witches.” I couldn’t breathe, they were supposed to be coming for me, not him. How was I even going to make it back? I was in agony, my vision was blurring. The streets were dark with only a few lights on. I wasn’t even sure if I could remember the way back. The book. The one Logan had given me, it said wolves can link their families. I didn’t know if it would work, but I had to try. “Sam??” I call out as tears ran down my face, there was silence, I wasn’t even sure if it had worked.

Hunter pouted as he hugged his mate. "You do realize we all have wolf hearing, right?" Noelle spoke up, stifling a yawn as she threw another one of the completed books back in the carton. So far, they had not found even a single piece of information that they either didn't know or thought could be of any use in their situation. "We are complimenting both of your versatility here." Hunter rolled his eyes, pulling away from his mate, having decided to lend a hand to the struggling mates. His mate was going back to their room.

“Just to make sure that my own hands aren’t dirty. And we wouldn’t have to sneak into the palace. We’ll get an opportunity very soon.” “Ok. Then tell me what to look for in those books and I can help you with it,” Verity said. “Look for something like the logo, patterns or languages that you can’t understand or find on the search engines,” I said. “Got it. On it.” Verity opened the books with great enthusiasm, which took two books to cool down. “Everything looks suspicious about every book now. I am never gonna look at books the same way ever again. It’s a classic about a bunch of cicadas hunting a bear. Why would they hunt a bear? They are cicadas. They don’t hunt. They eat grass. And grass

“She has them tangled. The entire kingdom would be distracted. They will not see us coming until we are already inside them.” The Shadow God turned his head toward the book. “And this?” I picked it up. The leather was warm, which was wrong in this cold. “The Book of Wolves.” “Open it.” I did. The first pages smelled like dust. The writing moved when I wasn’t looking at it, shifting like insects under glass. It spoke of the Aurion wolves. Noble. Bound to the sun. Keepers of law. It spoke of the Noctaryn wolves. Ruthless. Bound to the moon. Keepers of teeth. And then it spoke of someone who had decided to be different.

I picked up the pen he'd left beside them, turning it over once between my fingers. I had read every page the night before, memorizing names, account numbers, clauses buried in language designed to look routine. One line, buried on the fourth page, had stopped me cold when I first found it. An account listed among the entities receiving my transferred shares, one I hadn't seen in any of Naomi's documents or Milo's records. Meridian Holdings Trust. "Before I sign," I said, keeping my voice light, curious instead of pointed, "what is Meridian Holdings? I don't recognize it from the other entities."

He pressed his ear against the wood, listening intently. Nothing. Atlas gripped the brass doorknob, twisted it slowly, and pushed. The door groaned on un-oiled hinges, swinging inward to reveal a pitch-black interior that smelled strongly of dust, gun oil, and... a sickening, sweet metallic tang. Blood. Just as Atlas took his first step over the threshold, a shape exploded from the darkness inside. A turned hunter, wearing a shredded flannel shirt, its mouth dripping with thick black bile, lunged violently out of the shadows, tackling Atlas squarely in the chest.

Rain had been coming down in sheets, and I’d barely been able to see the road, just getting back from town with some supplies. As I pushed the door open, Scout bolted in ahead of me. But he stopped abruptly, tail tucked, a low growl rumbling from his chest. My senses went on high alert. Following his gaze, my eyes landed on the smears of blood. But there weren’t paw prints—no, these were human bloodprints. My hand found the bat by the wall, and I gripped it tight, creeping forward, following the trail. The marks led straight to the bathroom. With a quick breath and my hands wrapped tightly around the bat, I lifted my foot and slammed the door open.

“I hope we can move forward… maturely. Mistakes were made, I’ll admit, but this is bigger than us now.” “You sound like a dying cat,” Gazier quipped, barely suppressing a grin. Evee masked her laughter with a forced cough. Hound ignored the banter, pulling a thin book from his jacket and placing it on the table. The book was dense with words, its cover plain and unassuming. “Everything you need to know is here,” he said. “Each copy is tailored to your role. The events described will occur within the next twelve months, but only if you follow the instructions precisely. Any deviation will render all the books useless.”

Could this be where the answers lay hidden? I stepped inside carefully, closing the door behind me. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and must, and I could almost hear whispers of a time long past. I scanned the shelves and noticed a collection of leather-bound journals and faded documents in a language I didn’t immediately understand. My eyes caught on one large, heavy ledger with ornate gold lettering on its cover. The title read simply “The Legacy of the Bloodhound Pack.” My hands trembled as I opened it, and I began to read.

“Mondrian’s bond with you strengthens all of us.” I didn’t believe him. His tone was too odd—desperate even. But before I could press him further, his expression shifted. “Found something,” he said, holding up a thick, leather-bound book. Immediately my suspicions were thrown out the window as I dived for the book, excitement fueling my being as it read: History of Blessed Wolves—white and Black.