Book Of Life Stories Novels & Stories

Book 1: Her Unloved Mate (Vince & Crystal’s Story) Book 2: My Bride is Not a Human (Cade & Andrella’s Story) Book 3: Her Chosen Mate (Rebecca & Oliver’s Story) * In case of any queries regarding any story, please reach out to my inbox. Thank you again.

Jane’s POV “The book of life isn't a single book?” I voiced my thoughts, unable to hold it in anymore. With everything they had been saying, it wasn't just the truth anymore, it was layers of truth. Secrets buried beneath secrets. As we uncovered one, we found another. And it made everything more complicated. “The Book of Life isn’t just one,” Liam said, his voice steady but serious. “There are five.” Five? My eyes widened in shock as the number echoed in my head.

"Go now. In your next life, you will be born into a loving, ordinary family, with loving parents, a healthy body, and a peaceful and happy life." I turned back, taking one last look at the world full of scars and entanglements. The small sunflower windmill in front of my tombstone spun tirelessly in the wind. In the distance, Timothy's foundation allocated its first grant to help a female awake her wolf. My spirit lived on forever in another form now. I smiled with relief, turned around, and plunged into that warm light without looking back. Goodbye, Timothy Russell. Goodbye to the six years I spent loving you.

Zoe stared at the book, her fingers hovering over its worn cover, tracing the cracks in the leather and the faint symbols etched into its spine. It felt… alive. Not in a way she could explain, but there was something ancient about it—something that pulsed beneath the surface, waiting to be uncovered. The Book of Life, her heart raced, every answer she had been searching for… could be inside.

“So that way.” 16B was a much larger section than I expected. Still, it made sense since wolves were always passing down stories to the younger generations, true or not. “Found it,” I said. It took forty-five minutes but I found a book on the Moon Blessed that was not a kid's bedtime story. “When the Goddess becomes a man,” I read out the title. From the cover, I could tell it was still a fiction story for the most part. But it was better than nothing at all.

What meaning is there in my life if he isn't by my side? Even from her handwriting, he could feel her collapse that day. He imagined her hand trembling as she wrote. Pain shot through him. He knew his absence had caused her unbearable grief, but seeing it written in her own hand, he couldn't help but feel sorrow. At the time, their family had gone bankrupt overnight. He had lost the title of the Masseria family heir. But he still had his hidden identity—the shadow of a powerful underworld figure. He had planned to confess everything to Sandra, to hide her safely away from the world.

Her expression darkened. The Book of Life was not just any artifact. It recorded every soul born into existence, every fate written into the fabric of the universe. It was the only way for her to obtain the book of death and the Archai weapon to open the gates of the Levite Garden and to obtain the Book of Rebirth and awaken herself as Na’ara forcefully. SInce Lilith won’t merge with her and she can’t subdue her.

"Zoe!" Caleb's voice trembled with fear and panic. As my consciousness faded, I felt no fear, only a strange sense of relief. Was it finally ending? I thought I had 24 hours left. Had it come even sooner? Maybe that was better. At least I wouldn't have to suffer through the pain eating away at me anymore. "Caleb, the journal on the nightstand and the voice recording are my parting gifts to you. Please remember to take a look," I thought.

“Kaszalo.” He sighed, cleared his throat. “Most people look at these and assume, as we do, that all of this is nothing but paper and ink.” He scanned the shelves, the volumes. “What they don’t know is these books have a life.” His eyes slowed, pausing on the antique letters stamped on the battered spines. The different heights, widths, colors. “Books are never just books. Never just paper, ink. Dust.” He looked at her. “These stories mean something. Even if those who told them disappeared long ago, these words are their voices, their lives. Still. “And there’s nothing worse than robbing someone of their words, right?”

I felt relieved that it was a dream, but that relief was short-lived. My phone rang, and the moment I answered it, my heart dropped. My aunt and my mom got into a car accident since the road was slippery. My aunt survived, but my mom died from blood loss. I was alone. I asked God to kill me, but he decided to do the exact opposite and kill the ones I loved instead. He's cruel. I just wanted everybody to be happy. I was okay with sacrificing myself, and yet, why did this happen? Life is a cruel game, and so is its game master.