Books Like Feathers So Vicious Novels & Stories

I didn’t dare move. “Vincent.” His voice was calm. Too calm. I forced my face into something resembling boredom and lifted one shoulder. “Carlos.” He closed the door behind him with a soft click. The sound felt louder than it should have. “What are you doing in here?” “Looking for a book.” The lie came out smoother than I expected. I even managed to sound mildly annoyed. “Luciano has a whole library and I’m bored out of my mind. Thought I’d find something that isn’t about business or blood.”

Only feathers. Feathers, and more fucking feathers. I open the second one anyway. “Knox!” Nathaniel exclaims. “Knox, enough. Maybe you should—” And then I turn, and I see the books. The weird books are sitting on the edge of her desk. One of them fell when I flipped the wood, landing open on the floorboards with a broken spine. I drop down into the feathers and grab it. This is it. This is what Ember says she guards more than anything else. Adrenaline surges through my fingers. I don’t waste another second. I tear it open, rabid with the taste of hope.

I need to fix this before I see her tonight. Felix has invited us both out to a poetry reading at a bar tonight and I can’t show up with blue balls or a painful erection, so I free my cock and palm it. I picture Willow on her knees before me, then the image of the fox with their perky little breasts and hard cock pops into my head. Both of them together would be amazing to observe. I imagine the fox and Willow playing at tying one another up and the wolf sucking me off while we both watch, but I don’t cum until images of the half fae bartender joining the wolf flood my mind and I cum with a roar.

Vivienne I held the book tight against my chest as I moved quickly through the corridor, my steps uneven but fast because my mind was already ahead of me, replaying the lines I had read over and over again until they made sense, until they stopped looking like old useless words and started looking like a weapon I could actually use, and even though my body was tired from staying up all night in that dusty library, I didn’t feel it much right now because something inside me was lit up, sharp and alive.

She did the same for him. One evening, as they walked through the city, Grace noticed a small bookstore she had never seen before. They went in on impulse. The space was narrow, warm, filled with the smell of paper and dust. Grace wandered the aisles slowly. She picked up a novel, then another. She realized she had not read fiction in months. Everything she consumed had been functional. Informational. Necessary. She chose a book without overthinking it. At home later, she read until midnight. The story was ordinary, human, unresolved. She loved it. When she closed the book, she felt something shift. She was no longer only responding to the world. She was engaging with it for pleasure again.

With a jerk of my consciousness, Teacher Kira and I could see ourselves inside the Book Collection Vault. Due to the fact that the Beast Hall was void of people, Kira's spirit was at a low advantage, making it easier for the Steel-winged Vulture to chase after her. The spirit was frustrated, looking for somewhere that could conceal its presence. As it flew towards the heavy shelves, its eyes suddenly lit up, before sending a final look at the Steel-winged Vulture's spirit which was presently making for a book roll in hope of catching a glimpse of the former's spirit.

Panic surged within her however she stood still, her arms failing miserably at hiding her bare body from his penetrating gaze. Her eyes darted around anxiously, desperately searching for an escape, any refuge from this terrifying situation, but she found none. There was none! Tears welled up in Emma's hazel eyes. She felt trapped, much like a fragile bird with its wings clipped but in her case, it was not just her physical freedom that was stripped away, but her very spirit, crumbled under the weight of his overpowering dominance. Reluctantly she looked at him. Their intense gaze locked.

Storm folded her lips, looked around her for the umpteenth time, before dipping her still shaking hands into the box and retrieving the feather. She looked at it keenly. It was red with flakes of blue. She tried comparing it with the beast she had seen in her dream, but nothing came up. The beast had been just a beast, without feathers. Where did this feather come from? She was sure that this box had been empty before she had dropped the book inside it before going to bed last night. Could it be from the book then? She turned her head to the side considering the possibility. Nothing turned up, but she held onto the feather, deciding to research the animal that possesses this unique feather.

The golden feather vanished—right before their eyes. That night, Veyra couldn't sleep. Her body felt fragile, like glass pulled too thin, ready to shatter at the slightest touch. Her mind reeled from the image of the feather, the heavy silence of her mates, and the whisper of a dream clawing at the edges of her consciousness. She finally slipped into a restless slumber just before dawn. And she dreamed. Of fire.

She chuckled to herself, wondering why the authors bothered with such misleading names. One particular book caught her eye - 'Blood Lust'. Raven couldn't help but roll her eyes at the title, feeling annoyed at the lack of originality. "Might as well give the writers of these books a Nobel prize for nice book titles," she grumbled under her breath as she opened the book. The first picture she came across made her pause. It was a disturbing image of a man with his head buried deep in the neck of a woman who was sitting down, with blood dripping from her neck.