Books Like Scythe Novels & Stories

After what appeared to be half an hour Skye slumped against the right bookshelf knowing that it was sturdy. His back leaned against the shelf while he rested his arms on his legs which were leaning against his chest. “It was here, I swear I saw it” Skye spoke in a defensive manner as he looked at the girls wearily, he was not going insane. For sure he had seen it but where was it? Pursing her lips, Anberine looked at the books carefully to see they were only about funguses and their poisons. Raising a brow she was left more confused as to why the secrets would be hidden in this area.

"We fight." ​: As the first drone dived toward us, the black thorn on my wrist didn't just throb—it opened. A third eye, violet and slitted like a cat’s, blinked open in the center of the scar. ​"The Scythe has evolved," a voice that wasn't mine whispered in my head. "And it’s hungry for steel."

Jackson wiped the dust from the pizza base on his jeans and focused on the laptop. “Are there books about the Bloodmoon pack I can look into?” Scarlett asked, She was never one for technology, she preferred to do her research in old school, with a notepad, highlighters, and books. Mikael nodded his head and vamped back and forth with a stack of 14 books. “Damn! I will help you with that.” Sasha offered, Scarlett gave her a grateful look with big eyes.

Kathrena wondered aloud, her fingers stroking the worn edge of the book. “It’s a Book of Shadows,” I said, gently moving my hand past Kath’s and opening it to the first page. Like the newspapers, it smelt old, but it had a herby scent rather than one of cigarettes and coffee. “A what?” Skye asked, cocking his head to one side as he examined it. “Of course,” Kathrena breathed. “Witches.” “You know about them?” I frowned.

“Do you know why? Because she doesn’t drain me. She feeds me. Just as I feed her. We are symbiosis. We are balance. We are what the books never predicted.” “The Council… the Council will want to know about this…” “The Council will find out soon enough.” I tilted my head. “And it will learn.” I extended my hand to the side, and the air tore open in violet and silver. My black scythe slid out of the pocket dimension, the ebony handle fitting perfectly in my palm. The curved blade gleamed, ancient runes pulsing in shades of violet. The leader looked at the scythe. Then at me. “That is… a scythe of death…”

Its hunger throbbed - dark, pulsing, wanting out. No. The Duskbane Grimoires were clear: the Scythe was a weapon of eclipse. Summon it under night, invite the darkness to consume the wielder's soul. A sun-weapon. Tonight, I was on my own. A metallic clink erupted from behind the practice dummies. I didn't turn. Didn't break stride. I sent a Threadbare filament behind me like a spider's web. It brushed something cold, hard, moving fast. "Ten of you," I murmured, voice low, aristocratic silk. "And here I thought the Shadow Syndicate had some pride left."

The "Author’s Study" was a sanctuary of woodsmoke and old leather, a space that existed in the "Negative Space" between the stories. The shelves that stretched into the infinite were packed with "Bound Histories"—thousands of volumes titled THE BLACKWOOD PACK: SECTOR 4. Silas and Lyra stood on a rug of woven starlight, their forms slowly regaining their "Biological Density" in the presence of the Source.

Not just words spilling out this time. Scenes. Creatures. Hazards. One thick volume labeled CASTLE HAZARDS struck a stone, flipped open, and vomited a swarm of translucent, wailing shapes—castle ghosts, their eyes hollow, fingers like icicles. They shrieked and arrowed toward us in a ragged storm. Another book, NEON DRONE PATTERNS, burst against a fallen shelf. Drones extruded from the pages like wasps from a nest, metal bodies shining, eyes already lighting up with target locks.

When I said that, a slight scowl came onto her face. “That male! He hasn’t any patients in the world!” “I’m sorry.” I gave her a soft smile reassuringly. “Perhaps I can help you find the books you are looking for.” “Tomes. The ones he’ll need are tomes. The council has rare ones dedicated to Lycans that no one else in the world has.” Sh said proudly. “Well, I’d be happy to lend a hand all the same.” I winked at her and getting a slight blush. “And maybe you can help me find a book for a person problem I’m having as well.”

I resume my pacing, focusing on the sensation of each step rather than the pull that tugs beneath my sternum like an invisible hook embedded in flesh. Our office reflects our duality—ancient and modern, order and chaos. Bookshelves line three walls, filled with texts older than most human civilizations. The carved dragon heads that adorn our chairs—thrones, really, though we rarely use them for official business—watch with ruby eyes that sometimes seem to blink when the light shifts. The antique oak desk between us bears the weight of scrolls I've been unable to focus on since Dawn crossed our threshold. Dawn. Even thinking her name sends a ripple of heat across my scar.