Dungeon Core Books Novels & Stories

Dannie picked up another joint from her room and went to the library. Among the ancient books was one of the largest collections of werewolf history in the world. If there was anything on Balric or the black book it was there. She gathered a variety of titles that looked promising and lit the joint. Taking a hit, Dannie opened the first book. Inside was mostly what she already knew.

Vaelspire Keep, The Forbidden Vault The Vault doors groaned open, revealing shelves lined with tomes bound in skin and bone. All the ancient and forbidden books of the old were stored and recorded there. Books with knowledge too ancient, too powerful, and useful to their enemies were stored here. Alaric stepped inside, torch in hand, his eyes scanning until they found the one he needed. It read, Bloodborne Bonds: Curses, Hybrids, and Abominations. He flipped through the pages, stopping when he saw an illustration that made his heart freeze.

A fucking massive library. I glance around at floor-to-ceiling shelves lined every inch of the walls. The books were stacked in perfect order, some looking old and worn, and others new and untouched. They were arranged so detailed that it almost didn’t make sense. Damien had a library in his house! A Massacre center, a dungeon, a torture room, anything of this such wouldn't be a surprise but of all the things he had a damn library. I would never had thought of that. I moved slowly, my fingers trailing along the spines of the books, my eyes scanning over the titles, surprised by how much variety there was. War history. Philosophy. Literature. Romance. Cooking? He had cookbooks?

The kind of panic that made me want to set fire to the world, only to sift through the ashes for what was lost. Perched on a sofa clearly not meant for someone my size, I fanned through one of the thousands of books the male, Dain, had sent to the suite. Half of these tomes read like textbooks, while the others were packed with fiction and myth. There was no way of sorting between what might be real, and what might’ve been the illusive dreams of some ancient, long deceased scholar. I’d been seconds away from voicing as much when I heard a breathy little whimper, not unlike the one’s my mate had mate last night, sound from across the room.

"'Vigorous Stele Opener', 'Tiger Whistling Boxing', 'Rapid-Cross Sword', 'Windward Chopping', 'Dragon Roaring Spearmanship', 'Stunning Steps', 'Base-Cultivating Secret'..." Ding Hao glanced over and saw the names of these books. They were all books on magic skills. Ding Hao suddenly had a dazzling illusion. There were real deal secret books, lying everywhere on the first floor of the "pagoda library". Like a sea or a mountain of books, Ding Hao was dazzled and immediately felt like he was Granny Liu in a palatial mansion.

Scotch burned trail gold, obsidian devouring every swallow, power humming balanced edge. Night deepened, bodies orbiting with no collision, but collision was inevitable. His hand ghosted spine trace absent—shiver traitorous. "Sleep," he ordered, soft menace, pulling me into the lounge plush without resistance. No fuck tonight—torture purer, proximity dominance submission unspoken. Dreams twisted Rourke's snap, Darius's grin fading peace, Kenji's obsidian guarding shadows. Blood ties bound us, visceral, dark romance, an empire forged in violence and want.

"You've fulfilled your end of the bargain. Now we fulfill ours." Triarch Vex produces a leather-bound tome from beneath his robes—ancient, the pages yellowed with age, the cover etched with symbols that hurt to look at directly. "This," he says, "is the Chronicle of the Deep. It contains everything we know about the Core Sea and those who've attempted to reach its depths. Most importantly, it contains the ritual words necessary to approach Arkenox without being unmade." Kael takes the book reverently. "How many have succeeded?"

A shiver coursed through Luke. Kael, still holding Luke close, leaned down, his lips brushing Luke’s earlobe. “Such a beautiful body. We’ve missed it.” His voice was a low growl, sending tremors down Luke’s spine. Damon stepped forward, his powerful hands reaching for Luke’s belt. The buckle clicked open, a sound that echoed like a final surrender. Luke’s trousers, then his underwear, were deftly removed, leaving him completely naked. He stood before them, vulnerable, exposed, his body flushed with a mixture of fear and burgeoning desire.

A stale rush of air hissed out, thick with the copper tang of blood. My lips curved. I knew Dominic’s stench anywhere. Stairs spiraled downward into blackness. I descended slowly, hand grazing the damp stone wall, every step echoing like a drumbeat in my chest. The deeper I went, the more the air grew heavy—thick with something more than rot. Power. Old, foul, crawling along my skin like a thousand unseen claws. At the bottom, the corridor opened into a chamber lined with shelves. Not filled with weapons or supplies but with books. Dozens of them. Leather-bound, worn, stained in places that I didn’t want to identify.

"Oh my God, where should I start?" 'Mine is happy,' Ash whispered, and Duncan’s lips twitched slightly—barely. "Come with me," Duncan gestured, leading her further inside. "Oh my! Is that what I think it is?" Arianna gasped at the sight of a dark green leather-bound book—one she would recognize anywhere. "You know it?" Duncan arched a brow. "Yes, of course!" She tried to reach for it, but she wasn’t tall enough, so Duncan helped her. "Thanks," she smiled at him, then looked down at the book. "The Ballads of the Ancients."