Changelings Book Novels & Stories

The words seemed to leap off the page, filling the room with an eerie sense of foreboding. Everything written in the book didn't make any sense to either Stella or Morgan. They found everything in the book quite absurd. The book spoke of witches, dragons, angels, vampires, and the devil. They didn't believe in such a thing at all, weren't they just fantasy? If they were to interpret it, it only meant that Grandma Elizabeth was a witch while the stranger guy whom Stella had picked from the streets the previous night was the devil.

She would often communicate with me through notes, not deeming me worthy enough to hear her voice. My eyes dance across the pages, absorbing the information. She wrote everything in here: her fears, her feelings, everything. I feel like I’m cheating by reading this. It’s giving me insight that she never wanted me to have. I see Alayasia’s name and follow the words after. My hands tense, and my jaw tightens. I read and reread the passage, wanting to make sure that I got it right. The book slips from my hands as I try to understand what I just read.

As their chanting becomes louder the screams of protest from the Jinn also gets louder, the whaling and hissing coming from the Jinn all of a sudden it goes quiet and the candles return to their normal size. Both Saint and I look to Aunt Lil who is watching the girls intently, waiting. I am just about to ask her what is going on when a screech of pure rage comes from the Jinn, a black and green what I can only describe as alive shadows explode from the young witch, the three move forward hands still gripping each other. This time the chant changes, Bellatrix and Catalina continue the same chant from before Denu changes.

His face went from severe to a deathly, translucent grey. "What... what did it just say?" "It didn't say anything, sir," Emberlyn whispered, her eyes wide with horror. "It's... it's broadcasting." The rat turned its gaze to the rest of the class. It pointed a tiny, clawed paw at a wealthy Nephilim girl in the front row. "You aren't a Nephilim," the rat projected. "You're a Changeling. Your mother replaced the real Princess Amira when she was three. The real Amira is buried under the rosebushes in the North Garden."

Eyes may change shape, hands will change, and hair and eyebrows will gradually thicken and change color. She snapped the book shut and opened the next one. ...The belief in vampires and bloodsucking demons is as old as man himself and may go back to prehistoric times... Grabbing the last of the books she’d taken down from the shelf, she flipped the pages until she found what she was looking for. A smile of satisfaction covered her face as she skimmed that page

Marcel moves closer to her slowly. “I want the same as you, the werewolves out of the witches’ lives. Alaric out of our home, Willow gone and no longer in control! They plan to get the vampires on their side and destroy the Monventla. I am the only person who knows where the book is; the spells are within it.” Marcel nods, sitting down. “What book might that be? The witches lost all of their written manuscripts centuries ago.” He looks at her waiting, Dan still stood on guard.

As I fingered through the book, with no title, words began to glow and singed onto the worn parchment like magic. Inanna had stirred and I could feel the Lycan blood in me shift, each drop moving and flowing like lava through my veins and my eyes lit up like beacons absorbing the words from the page. It startled me and I dropped the book to the floor. As the thud of the heavy leather hit the floor and echoed throughout the endless room, books started flying off the shelves, pages fluttering towards me in a whirl of turbulence, surrounding me like a twister.

He didn’t seem to care that I was basically mute, or if he did, he didn’t let me know. I opened the book, and to my surprise, it was a chapter regarding Reavers. How coincidental… I reached out to Wynter, to find her absent and that was what triggered my memories of my dream before. The black and gold castle that belonged to my Demon… it was so fucking similar to this place. Different colors, but so eerily similar you’d think he and Raphael designed them together.

What’s more, I was not responsible, through my birth, for my parent’s inability to have other children. “If I am a changeling,” I asked him hesitantly. “Is my parent’s true child out there, somewhere?” “It’s unlikely, Siorin,” he stroked a hand along my back, the warmth of his palm comforting. “Changelings are normally only placed where there had been the loss of a child. The brethren’s numbers have been steadily decreasing during my lifetime, and so we are not careless with our young as your stories would have you believe. “As to learning more about your magic,” he considered. “There is an extensive library downstairs. I am sure they would have something on Sirens.”

“Laura… I… Can’t…Breathe.” “Crud, I’m SO sorry.” She finally released me but kept me in her arms just at arm’s length, looking me over. “I hate to say it Chicka, but you look good. Like, way good…” She trailed off while still inspecting me head to toe, I crossed my arms feeling a little unsure as to what was happening…almost forgetting the book I had in my hand, and for the first time since leaving the library I took the time to inspect what Mina had handed me. “Shifters” was the titled, I bit back a snort, real original title. The book was bound in old leather and the binding had seen better days, the pages stained in yellows and almost browns. Some of the pages seemed to be bent over with