Books About Seelie And Unseelie Novels & Stories

"The Seer was happily locked up in her world. Why bother her? Besides, this girl is more powerful than what we have here in our domain." "I don't want this gift. I need to talk to the underworld seer. I want it out of me." I cut in desperately. Greta Stihl looked at me interestingly, "You don't want to become the Seer? How strange?" She gracefully stood up, displaying her very long beautiful legs in the process. She was mesmerizing that I could not take off my eyes of her. I felt like I was standing near a stunning goddess. "There is a lot of creatures willing to have what you have. But you--- don't want it. Strange but fascinating."

Yet in my heart I know the truth, I flash back to the images I saw on the paintings in the castle, during my wandering. Now it makes sense! The Royal family are the dragons of old. It was always them, but why they lost the ability to change is a mystery. However, in each of those portraits the eyes were the common link between the human and the dragon. Lilli! I'm staring at my Lilli! As that realisation crashes through me she moves away and growls, then someone shouts. “Stay away from me beast!” She lets out an angry roar and grabs something, it takes me a moment to realise that she has caught Lance, just as his gun lands on the floor.

He fluttered his eyes and gazed at the book instead. “Why do you say it’s Dracula? ‘Zalmoxis’ is a Dacian god from what I know.” “You know this book?” she asked, surprised. “Yes. I read extraordinary books as my pastime, too. I am interested in other topics besides those given at school. So, why do you think it’s Dracula we’ll meet?” “It is because I constantly hear his name in my head.” Elise just stared at the book she was holding and spoke again.

Eli and the other vampires gathered around a large stone altar, where they began to perform a ritual to call upon the spirits of their ancestors for guidance and protection. As they chanted and prayed, the air began to shimmer and glow with an otherworldly light. Eli felt a surge of energy coursing through his body as the spirits of his ancestors answered their call. Suddenly, the air around them began to swirl and twist, and a figure materialized in front of them. It was a woman, dressed in ancient robes and carrying a staff adorned with precious stones. "Greetings, my children," she said in a voice that echoed through the cave. "I am Selene, the High Priestess of our ancestors. I have been

I inquired once more, seeking clarity on everything that had transpired. "It is more than a relationship." Our werewolf clan's rituals rely heavily on the Grimoire. It contains secrets and spells that can control or even strengthen curses." "So, what should I do with it?" "How come I can't even read it?" "Like I said, only holy love can overcome it." I could tell this man was hesitant to say that sentence. After all, the concept of breaking a curse with the power of love exists only in fairy tales. And it's usually a fairy tale for children, not adults like me.

Then, to the right, and at the end of a long row of books, one book jutted out from the shelf. I pulled it out. It didn’t have a name. It was a leather-bound volume, and its cover had a skeletal hand clutching a wilting rose. I opened the book, skimming through the pages. My stomach turned at some of the rituals inside. Selene was too arrogant, too vein, to resort to grave robbing, and there would be no need to stitch me together if her plan was to take over people’s bodies as she had before. The Binding.

We don’t stop. And then—I find it. A book hidden beneath a loose stone in Dorian’s chamber. Bound in ancient leather, reeking of iron and salt and blood. Its language is forbidden, but I understand enough. The truth is there. To save her, another must take her place. > “The soul seal cannot be lifted unless a willing spirit takes her place. The exchange must be voluntary. Complete. Permanent.” There is no backdoor. No loophole. No redemption. Just one raw, brutal choice.

I could feel it weighing against the bond, trying to pry me away from him, trying to exploit the pull. I clenched my fists, energy coiling along my veins. Not for attack yet. But enough to show I was aware. That I was ready. That Sebastian was not alone. Inside, I could feel him stirring, subtle shifts in his breathing, the way his energy quivered faintly against mine. He didn’t fully understand what he was yet. The bond was raw, hungry, untrained. I needed him alive. Whole. Not just for survival, but for the path ahead the blood moon, the ritual, the entity.

Overflow, world. “Those won’t whittle themselves,” Elias called from behind me. I refocused on the wooden figurines before me on the table outside the wardhouse: wolves, stags, a dragon with wings bent mid-flight. Little blessings they carved to hang on trees and doorposts. Protection charms, mostly. Prayer, if you were into that sort of thing. “I’m heading out,” I muttered around the knife in my hands again. Elias dropped down next to me, placing a handful of rune stones next to the ones already marked to carve around. He smelled like ink and old books, like inside Everley Archives. He’d made himself welcome here. Like most of us did.