Bookworms Novels & Stories

Southpoint Pack never failed to make me feel like a fumbling idiot. The door swung open, somehow silent despite its size, and the smell hit me first. Old paper. Dust. Then something else. Ancient. Sacred. The libraries in Evenmoor didn’t smell like this. Sure, there was the scent of old paper, dust, and older people's perfume, but there was something beneath all that. Could it have been the magic that these people used? Or some werewolf scent? I stepped inside and— Oh. Books. Thousands of them. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall. More books than I’d ever seen in my entire life. More books than existed in all of Evenmoor combined.

The transition from "Ascended Monarchs" to "starving shifters" happened remarkably fast. For hours, we were buried in vellum and leather. We moved through stacks of ancient scrolls, but it seemed the Great Library of the Queens had a sense of humor—or a very mundane side. We found "The Little Dragon Who Lost His Spark," a three-volume set on the proper way to tax wool in the fourteenth century, and a surprisingly aggressive book on the ethics of herbalism.

she gives me a warm smile and just shakes her head before she nods and turns back to placing the books on the shelves. I quickly come across a book on bonds, but it takes me ages to find one about demons. I search through every book and shelf until, finally, at the very top, I spot a small, extremely dusty book. Although it doesn’t explicitly say “demons,” its title, “Monsters of Our World,” is the closest I can find.

They were both taken aback, Cwena looked up at the window to see if anyone was there and Gerey stared at the door, expecting anyone to come in at that moment. “I'm the book you dolts!” the book said in a boring, matter-of-fact voice, “you didn't expect me to be a dumb book that bears the tickles of an inked feather tingling on its pages do ya?!” “Uhm, no - no. Not at all,” Cwena put in mildly, trying hard to hide the look of disbelief at what she could see right before her, on the gathered hay. The book remained silent, twisting its lips like a female putting on a gloss, “Well, I'm Cwena Engow, and this is Gerey -”

Her aunt gives her a small smile and nods, Celine finds the bookmark and opens to the page. The woven bookmark has a faded blue tassel and was made of woven threads depicting wolves running in a forest, at the bottom of the bookmark was an old wolf’s tooth with a hole drilled through to be able to tie it onto the bookmark. She puts it to one side to look at the page it had been marking. It looked much like many of the others she had seen flipping through. But its words had her feeling like her world was slipping through her fingers and she was unable to do anything to stop it.

I quickly head out to the next shelf. I don’t know how much time has passed, but I feel exhausted. Drake plops into one of the armchairs before the fireplace, yawning. “I covered thirty shelves, and there’s no book on celestial wolves. This is not a library. It's a book town!” He rests his chin on his arm. “It's so huge that I might find aliens hiding somewhere.” “Stop with the excuses. You are just incapable, that’s all,” Dory says while biting her thumbnail, her eyes trained on the book she’s holding.

As their journey unfolded, Emily and Liam discovered a hidden gem—an old, charming bookstore nestled in a quaint corner of the city. Intrigued by its cozy ambiance and shelves brimming with books, they couldn't resist the allure of the written word. Hand in hand, they stepped through the creaking door, greeted by the soft scent of aged paper and the hushed whispers of stories waiting to be discovered. They wandered through the aisles, running their fingers along spines that held countless worlds within their pages.

She said Frowned. "I didn't mean that. I was just asking." He said. "Yes I like to read story books. Especially this book. It is a story about a warrior who lost his master. His senior killed his master to take his master's secret diary. Now the warrior run away with the book to save. This story is just like my story. That's why I like this book." She replied with her head down. The story book was in her hands and her eyes were staring at the book. Her tears fall down on the book.

The soft groan of wood rang out in the quiet bookstore as Lena turned over the last sign on the door: **CLOSED**. Outside, the city drew a breath, illuminated by amber streetlights and the quiet rumble of passing cars. Within, the world held its breath. Warm. Intimate. Holy.

At least he knows how to treat her. Arsella looked at Axel who glanced at her book. Axel was more interested in the book she was reading than her face. Arsella stared at her book and raised her eyebrows. Just like Axel, she was also trying to guess the thoughts of the person across from her. "Do you like reading?" asked Arsella suddenly, while closing her book after putting down the bookmark, which meant she was more interested in chatting now. "I used to be called a bookworm," Axel replied while chuckling softly.