Booktok Ornament Novels & Stories

I said firmly as I closed the book and glared at the smug man. "You can take it with you and finish it if you like," he said softly and I nodded, tucking the book against my lopsided chest as I thanked him. I opened it back up to find my spot and saw a decorative piece of long paper being handed to me. I glanced up at the Alpha shaking the item. "It's a bookmark. Please don't dogear the pages. Also, if you enjoy books I have a library where you may get books to borrow," he said softly and I plucked the bookmark from his fingers and told him thanks. I looked around the room and back at the Alpha.

"And, uhm, thank you for the books, by the way. Also to . . ." "You can call her Ranuz." She walked back to me. I nodded. "To Ranuz as well." Sina then flashed me a soft and warm smile, and from her basket, she handed me a pink peony and a glass bookmark with an hourglass design. "You're always welcome." I couldn't help but raise a brow as I watched her pass by me. "Enjoy your books and stay here." She began to go down the stairs. "Will do." I padded towards the other stairs and quickly climbed them up. I pushed open the curtains of the bed hammock, the one next to the net, and hopped onto it. Good thing the ropes stabilized it.

Anatoli asked. Without turning to them, Orcenal grabbed something from his bag. He showed it to them, making them squint in displeasure. It was a book. Orcenal found it inside Harriet’s room this morning. The book was the prophecy from the other world, and the title was... [The Crown’s Diamond]. Anatoli and Ayja immediately stood back up and approached him. When they were about to reach and observe the book, Orcenal threw it to the raging fireplace.

Aaron looked at the front and his eyes bulged out and then he shook his head. “Well, at least it’s a saving grace that part of the myth is real too,” he walked over and put the book down on the table. It was made of leather and had gold inlay on the front. I recognised the symbol straight away as the pendant that Elias had me wear the night of the ball. The one that belonged to his sister. The title of the book stood out to me and just seeing it felt like it unlocked something in me. I wasn’t aware whether I felt excited or scared.

He lay out invitingly on a wolfskin rug, looking at me forlornly. “I'm cold-” “Don't even start, kid.” “I am not a child,” he said, petulant. “You act like one, Corpseboy.” Hurt marred his face. I swallowed my guilt and looked away: Puck's haphazardly strung Christmas lights formed a rainbow web in the rafters, and a charred hemlock , hung with beer, stood in for the holiday tree. “God, what is this?” I muttered, sneezing at the musty upholstery. Elephant tusks hung on the wall, mounted beside a unicorn horn and what I imagined was a dragon's jaw.

The violent disarray wasn’t the methodical search of a victor; it was the tantrum of a thief who had come up empty-handed. Kaelen’s torchlight fell upon the only thing left untouched in the center of the room: a large, flat stone altar. On it rested a single, pristine object. A book, bound in what looked like pale, silvery leather. It was closed, with no title, but a symbol was tooled into its cover—the same symbol from the bone resonator: the wolf unraveling into a spiral.

" I stood up from the chair I stood and walked over to where some ornaments were hung. Taking a glimpse at most of them, only one got my attention. "What's this?" I took out an book which it's face cover was a pentagram, had a good look at the front and back cover. "One of my parents magic stuff!" Just as I was about to place the written work of sorcery back into its shelf, a note fell from its pages. A white paper, folded a few times. The sound of tension and suspense filled the room as what was written in the paper was unknown. I frowned lightly at the sheet before lifting it up to eye sight.

"You're doing it wrong," Frostina complained loudly, leaning over the carpenter's wooden table. Buck did not flinch or look up from his work. He brought the first rough wooden drafts of her birthday ornament into her private royal chambers as she ordered, and set up a small sturdy workbench near her tall glass balcony doors. He stood there calmly, sanding a thick, beautiful piece of dark oak.

“A necklace? What about it?” I pulled my own pendant from beneath my shirt, letting it dangle beside the illustration. “It’s mine. The exact same one.” Cora’s eyes widened as she looked between the book and my necklace, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. “Holy shit,” she whispered, leaning in for a closer look. “That’s…that can’t be a coincidence.” “The description page is missing,” I said, showing her the torn edge. “Someone ripped it out.”

Just expensive furniture and abstract art that looked chosen to impress rather than express. I passed through the living room, my attention drawn to a large bookshelf covering one wall. The collection impressed me—ancient texts on pack history, rare volumes on wolf magic, modern novels organized by genre rather than author. Many of the books looked unread, their spines uncreased. One leather-bound book caught my eye—its dark cover embossed with strange symbols that resembled no language I recognized. I reached for it, but it refused to budge. Odd. I tried again, pulling harder. The book remained firmly in place, as if glued to the shelf.