Duke University Libraries Novels & Stories

Duk ran his finger over a small map of the world . The map was slowly but surely covered with lines, dots and dates. In the light of a green lamp standing on a wooden table, book dust gleamed in the air. Stacks of worn books covered most of the table. Duk had been sitting in the library for more than an hour. He had translated the ancient scrolls in the werewolf archive long ago. The history of people contained a lot of information, both fictional and true.

That’s also why he came across as more charismatic than Hunter in social settings. I patted Erik on the shoulder, hoping he’d realize I was only joking. As I sat down in my office chair, Erik cleared his throat. I looked at him curiously. “Uh… I know you wanted me to stop digging into anything related to the Duchess family name, but I… uhm…” Erik began to stammer. I took a deep breath and gestured with my hand for him to continue. “Late last night, I went to the Lycan University to visit their library. I thought, if the internet can’t help us, maybe the archives can.”

I've asked Xander to help me check if I'm doing it right. "How confident are you with this?" He asked. "Very. I remembered all the revision you made me do last year so I'm sure there's nothing to worry about." I replied and Lady Julia looked at us curiously. "I've asked Xander's help regarding the management of the duchy. Since we, women, don't have any classes regarding territory management, economy, and that stuff in the institution. I learned how to manage the duchy from Xander and Prince Xavier. I've only managed the duchy for a year so I wanted Xander to help me with the documents for this year. Prince Xavier is a little busy so I can only ask Xander." I explained.

He needs to do something, and do it fast. The Duke left the store, ignoring the fact that his two cousins were still around and went straight to Graden-Hall Art Gallery. Looking at the signage on the building, he realized he still didn't know what's the meaning behind the name. It didn't ring any bell to him. One day, he needs to ask Melissa about it. When he stepped into the gallery, the Duke was ushered into Melissa's office. She was sitting on the couch, going over some papers. She looked tired, and she yawned a couple of times before he walked in.

He raised a single, heavy boot and kicked the mahogany door clean off its iron hinges, sending the massive slab of wood crashing across the polished parquet floor of the solar. Inside, the air smelled of expensive, imported pipe tobacco and aged cherry wine. Duke Charles of the Southern Marches stood by the wide arched windows, his velvet robes of deep emerald green rustling as he spun around to face the intrusion. He was a man in his late fifties, his silver hair neatly coiffed and his fingers heavy with gold signet rings, but his aristocratic composure was utterly shattered. In his right hand, he held a half-burned sheet of parchment—a letter he had been frantically trying to destroy in th

The urn looked the same as before, but what was inside wasn't mother's ashes at all—it was protein powder! Marcus and Ryan were stunned too, both looking toward Josie. Josie immediately teared up, crying pitifully: "I'm sorry, brothers. I just couldn't bear to put the Duchess's ashes in a garbage dump, so I hid them in the basement storage. But I got too flustered and spilled the ashes. I was too scared to touch them, so... so I replaced them with protein powder. I meant well—the Duchess was so kind when she was alive, she surely wouldn't blame me."

“And you aren’t what she was supposed to get.” “‘Get’?” Duke’s mouth twitched in a snarl as she jabbed at him, his irritation rapidly rising. “The Duke Agency?” he read disdainfully, flipping the card over briefly and dismissing it in the same second. He knew a con when he saw one. “And what exactly is it that you supply?” “If you don’t know, then you obviously don’t belong here,” Rachel snapped. Standing on tiptoe, she craned her neck to see over his shoulder into the room. “Caitlyn!”

Darkling University’s Media Center put even the grandest of libraries to shame. Three floors contained every book and archive the University possessed, accessible by the winding staircases of polished wood on either side of the room. Along with the maze-like stacks of books sprawling in every direction, there were clusters of computers available to students, and private rooms where tests could be taken or where group projects could be worked on.

She pulled one of the books she borrowed from the library onto her lap and tried to read—but the words blurred on the page, her mind too full, too loud. A soft knock broke the silence. It was one of the maids. “Would you like to come down for lunch, Miss Selene?” “I’m not feeling well,” she replied faintly. “Just a sandwich and some juice, please. In my room.” The door closed again, leaving her in quiet isolation. If only she could leave this place altogether, she would. Downstairs, Duke was already pacing outside his mother’s room, the morning papers folded tightly in his hands. The bold headlines screamed the story that had broken the internet the day before.

Just beyond the entrance hall was an anteroom, with more statuses, and an inlaid floor in a blue and crimson and gold pattern. Sheldon led her through an arched doorway, her footsteps echoing loudly on the marble floors. She had the distinct impression that she was a shabby intruder. Instinctively walking on her tiptoes, Cassy shrugged away the uncomfortable feeling she was in a museum instead of a home. The neoclassical mania had apparently struck the duke, she decided, or at least his ancestors. Bronze and marble busts were everywhere, on the stairs of beautiful stones, and placed inlaid gold tables. Massive pieces of furniture looking endured since the middle ages were scattered regally t