Booktok Books Without Spice นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The air smelled like old paper and moth balls. “This is the restricted section,” she said, gesturing to the shelves. “Most of these books are centuries old, filled with knowledge that’s been forgotten—or maybe even deliberately hidden. If there’s any information about the spell blocking your wolf, it’ll be here.” We spent the next hour combing through the shelves, pulling down books with titles like Ancient Curses and Their Remedies and The Lost Art of Mating Rituals. More than once Gertrude fell into sneezing fits from the dust, her glasses falling off her face, and the faint scent of mildew was giving me a headache, but we didn’t stop searching.

If there were answers about what I was, they would be here. I ran my fingers along the spines of the books, scanning the titles. Most of them were about pack laws, ancient treaties, and the history of alphas. Nothing useful. But then— I stopped. My eyes landed on a book that looked older than the rest, its leather cover worn with time. There was no title, no markings. Just a feeling. I pulled it from the shelf and opened it carefully. The pages were fragile, covered in symbols I didn’t recognize. But as I flipped through, my breath caught.

ancient, the pages brownish. "Go ahead, I'll just sit here doing nothing," Axel said, and I almost felt bad for him; he seemed already bored, and I hadn't even started. My hands trailed down the line of ancient history books, and then there was a book that caught my attention; it seemed more recent than the other books. I picked it out of the shelf; there was another book behind it; I took that out too. The book had been titled 'Barbara's Fantasies'.

I gather my books with trembling hands and stand up. Britney's already walking away, her friends trailing behind her like ducklings. The hallway noise starts again. Conversations. Locker doors. Footsteps. Everyone moves on because this isn't new. This is just what happens to the girl with no scent. I make it three steps before I have to stop. I press my back against the wall and close my eyes. My knees throb. My chest is too tight. I count to ten the way my mom taught me. Breathe in. Breathe out. Wait for the shaking to stop.

Peaceful. Vespera Hale walked along the mahogany shelves, trailing her fingers over the spines of the books. Philosophy. Strategy. History. She stopped. On a shelf at eye level, nestled between The Art of War and a first edition of The Count of Monte Cristo, was a book she didn't recognize. It had no dust jacket. The binding was matte black, textured like volcanic rock. The lettering on the spine was silver, sharp and angular. SAVAGE REBORN.

My wolf paces restlessly, urging me to hurry. Dust thickens on the shelves the deeper I go. One book catches my attention—a faded green volume on the Moon Goddess—but a quick skim reveals it’s about rituals and sacrifices, not bonds. I shove it back onto the shelf, the motion stirring a cloud of dust that stings my eyes.

she replied her and when she noticed the worry on her face, she said, “Be at ease. There is nothing to worry about.” Like a spell, Amber suddenly felt relaxed and she walked to one of the shelves before pulling out a book. A frown came to form on her face and she pulled out few other books before placing them back in its place. Turning her body to look at the woman, she said to her, “Your library is for cookbooks, flower characteristics and Animal instincts?” “Mm, what were you expecting?” the woman answered, not looking at her and Amber scoffed. “I thought you might have some fictional books with some genres like Teen, Young Adult, Billionaire and Romance but I can’t find any of that right

“Motorcycles: A complete modern history.” I open the cover, and the spine cracks. It’s brand new. I wonder if Ben somehow smuggled this into the Archives. It’s not the type of book that’s highly sought out by scholars. But I laugh all the same, diving into it. The faint scent of citrus and cinnamon floats through the air, as if his scent is still attached to the cover.

I didn't want to have breakfast for fear of running into Darick. The door creaked as I turned the knob and entered the library. Dust particles still floated in the air, and I could barely see with the dimly lit chancellors. I walked down the aisles, holding my nose as the smell of musk filled my nostrils. I skimmed my fingers over the hardback books. Hmm, ‘Chronicles of the Blood Brothers.’ No, I don't want to read about the Blood Brothers' history. What's this? ‘Understanding your Supernatural Abilities.’

I've finally finished reading the books Dorothy gave me, which were initially intended for my sister, Azura. The content of these books doesn't seem unusual to me. The only one related to alternative medicine is the herbology book; the rest are primarily plant catalogs and care guides. I've returned all the books and now find myself sitting in Azura's room, staring at her bookshelf. It's filled with her favorite romance and fantasy novels. My sister was an avid theater enthusiast, and her shelves were packed with plays and musicals. However, there's nothing about plants, magic, or herbs. She never mentioned the box she left for me or the journal I found.