Books Like Orphan X Novels & Stories

So I end the call and text her that I will call her in the evening. On my way to the dungeons, I grab a granola bar and bottle of water to have something after the rough night. We have dungeons under the packhouse and I made it into the worst prison ever. Everybody knows that when if someone stays alive one night, it's just that it wasn't me who tortures him. I am not very proud of my reputation because I don't love to torture someone, I just can't stand rogues and their way of thinking. They think that they can just run on my territory whenever they can and that pack is stupid and sometimes they just don't like to listen to orders from alphas and they want to do what they want. So I have to

Why would Maggie’s ancestors want to conjure and evil spirit or raise the dead? Fascinated by the pull of the words on the page, she softly whispered the Bring Forth the Dead Incantation. A cold chill swept over her and her temples throbbed. She carefully placed the ribbon down the interior binding of the pages and closed the book shut. The crystal didn’t look quite so out of place as it lay against the bottom of the pages. In fact, there was so much room between the size of the cover and the size of the pages that crystal tucked right up into the gap when she set the book on end. It was a perfect fit.

No one, and I mean no one, in town should know that my grandfather is a leader of an underground crime syndicate. But Heidi also told me that Odin uses his money for charity. He builds a home for the orphan or helps a school that requires technology. Odin has done many things to make the world a better place. He changed his ways when he met my grandmother. Odin showed me his wife; I couldn't believe how much I looked like her, except she had blonde hair and dark eyes. Then he showed me, my dad, when he was a little boy, Ares looked exactly like our dad when he was his age.

I put my own hand on the empty tomb. "And I am going anyway, and I need you to understand why, because it is not foolishness. I have been an orphan my whole life. I grieved two parents I never got to know. One of them turned out to be alive in a cellar, and I almost did not get her, and every day I have her now is a day I nearly lost. If there is even a chance the other one is down there, alive, after eighteen years, then there is no trap in the world she could build that would keep me from going to look. She is not baiting a queen, Hunter. She is baiting an orphan, and orphans do not get to be sensible about this. Some things you have to walk into a snare for. A father is one of them."

Chapter 155 Shania adjusted the stack of books in her arms as she stepped into the cozy library at the foundation’s headquarters. This had quickly become her favorite spot to retreat to, a quiet space where stories lived and dreams flourished. A part of her still marveled at how far things had come. The library was bustling with activity as kids and young adults flipped through pages of novels and textbooks. Shania watched a young girl named Tasha animatedly discuss a book with her peers, her shy demeanor replaced by an infectious enthusiasm.

He turned around and tilted his head. "Thank You." Her smile was small but filled with gratitude. "You're welcome and you can call me Azraiel." He watched her nod her head and left the medical wing with the brightest smile on his face. Alone in the room, Charlotte moved on the bed a little to lift the books he had left. She put them on the unoccupied space on the bed and lifted the first one to read the title. A small smile crept on her face as she read the title. "Basics of the Werewolf World" was a fifty-page introduction book for children at the Orchid Primary School at the Blue Orchid Pack. She leaned back and started reading about the new world she was going to be in for the rest of her

The black ink from the Moonstone had traveled up my wrist, mapping my veins in dark, bruised lines that reached all the way to my shoulder. "You look terrible, child," Nazim said. He dipped a finger into the bowl of scarlet feathers and began to stir. The sound was like dry husks grinding together. "The Orphan gift is a parasite. It doesn't use your energy. It uses your history. Every time you flare that red light, you lose a piece of who you were." "Shut up," I rasped. My voice sounded deeper, edged with a growl that wasn't mine.

I was abandoned as a baby at a very small orphanage, in the small town of River Stop. I was raised in the orphanage, and I guess in this small area not a whole lot of people want to adopt an orphan girl. So, I grew up with the ladies that ran the orphanage, Frances, the old, short and very plump mean and strict head master I guess we can call her, and Mary, who was soft, sweet, caring, and was the only person in my life that ever loved me!

“Yeah, sure. You know I have a book about supernaturals that this guy at a blood bank gave me when I was living in the streets. When I met Khail, he didn’t know what he was, so I lent it to him.” My eyes widen with shock. I knew that Rowan was an orphan, but I never considered that he was a street rat. Emotion clogs my throat at the thought of him living in the streets, helpless and alone. “You…you lived in the streets?” I manage to squeak out.

Fatherhood was still foreign to him, yet the loss hurt all the same. “Orion gave me this book.” Axel proudly held it up. Gideon’s eyes widened slightly. It was a book on werewolves and Lycanthropy, filled with illustrations on nearly every page. “Can you read it?” Gideon asked, pointing toward the Latin text. “No. But I understand it.” Axel pointed at an illustration showing a werewolf transformation. “I know what this means.” Gideon stared at him, amazed by the boy's intelligence. At the same time, he wondered why Orion had handed such a book to a child.