Forsworn Book Novels & Stories

The creature we intended to create, the weapon strong enough to rule both packs and covens, would remain a dream. I couldn’t let that happen. I turned toward the far wall and knelt beside the hearth. My fingers found the loose stone easily, and I pried it free. Behind it, hidden in a hollow space, lay a leather-bound book wrapped in crimson silk. The Grimoire of Thalora: my mother’s legacy. Every forbidden spell she had collected, every curse she had perfected, every binding stronger than blood. I unwrapped it carefully and set it on the table. The cover was cold to the touch, almost pulsing beneath my fingertips, as if the book itself was alive. I flipped through the brittle pages until I f

He opened it quickly, flipping through page after page until his fingers froze. "There," he said, holding it out. Veyra read aloud. "The Soul Gates. Forbidden magic. Built with blood, fueled by devotion. They do not open to this world. They open to the Beyond. And from them will step the Forgotten Ones, gods made of hunger and bone, cast away before time began." Jon swallowed hard. "It goes on. The strongest of them—Asvaris. The Unmade King. Said to have once ruled both life and death. Banished by the Moon Goddess herself."

My lips twisted. I flipped through several more pages, skimming for new details and new hooks I could sink my teeth into. There wasn’t much more about Elyra specifically. There are plenty of vague threats about witches in general. But no clear *how* to undo what she’d done. Of course not. The people who wrote this liked to catalog disasters, not solve them. Frustration surged. I pushed the heavy book away and dragged the thinner, darker‑bound volume toward me—“Northern Lore,” Rowan had called it.

We would repeat the narrative until it felt like truth, real truth Ivy the cursed. Ivy the forsaken. The omega who returns and brings death and trouble Numbers would grow Doubt would spread. And when the time came - when we were no longer five, but fifteen… twenty… more ,-- Even red eyes would not be enough to stop us. If I cannot have the Alphas -- No one will. And this pack will remember who truly belongs.....

“If they call us forsaken, then let them see what the forsaken can do when the moon answers our call.” Their howls ripple through the trees — fierce, uncontained. “Tonight, we do not stand for vengeance alone,” I shout above them. “We stand to restore balance. The moon chose us — not for peace, but for reckoning.” The air thickens, heavy with spirit. “So when your claws find their mark, remember you are not striking from hate. You are striking from truth. You are the howl that rose from silence. And when dawn comes, the world will remember what the night dared to hide.”

Somewhere beside her, Estelle's breath shuddered, and Roger's hand rested briefly on her shoulder. ... Martin Fallow's empire collapsed faster than anyone expected. One week after that night in the club, Martin Fallow's name was plastered across every news outlet in the country - fraud, bribery, trafficking, assault. The list of charges seemed to stretch without end. His so-called friends vanished overnight, business partners severed ties, and the man who had once moved in the same rarefied circles as Victor's V Group now sat behind reinforced glass, awaiting a trial he had no hope of winning.

Luna, her voice a whisper of control, commanded the soil to rise, making a boundary against the infringing haziness. The fight seethed, an ensemble of clashing steel and extraordinary capacities. The Whispering Woods warriors, propelled by the twins' control, battled with recharged savagery. They were not fair guarding their domain; they were guarding the exceptionally pith of their presence. As the fight heightens, Garren and his adherents observe from the shadows, their hearts filled with a turned fulfillment. They saw the chaos, the devastation, and they accepted their prescience of fate was coming to pass.

I smiled as we both held hands. "I know, anyway, I'm focused on the road. Rest for now, it looks like we're still far away." He resigned and I followed what he said. I leaned back and put on earphones. I looked outside for a moment before closing my eyes, whispering to myself; I love you BenChua but we are part of the mistake. We are the piece of Unforgiven Sins. Little by little I felt the weight of my eyelids and the only thing I heard from the song I was playing was I love you, goodbye.

A book sealed by blood, only to be opened by the heir who had both fire and forgiveness. “You must go alone,” the priest said. “Only one may enter the Vault.” Jian stepped forward. “She’s not going without me.” Chaewon touched his hand. “This is mine.” He held her gaze and nodded once. The door hissed open. Inside, the vault pulsed like a heartbeat. And there it was, on a pedestal of scorched stone…a book bound in dark leather, etched with fire-glyphs that moved like liquid under her gaze. As she stepped forward, her hand brushed the surface—and the book opened on its own.

“Why would it have been with the Book of Whispers?” “The Book of Whispers wasn’t a good thing. It wasn’t created to be used for good. It’s dark magic,” Arthur begins. “The same dark magic only very specific witches are allowed to learn about. Curses, afflictions, the works. It could create, and open, realms. It also spoke of other worlds outside of our own. Worlds of danger, of evil… and how to open portals to… possibly the afterlife and beyond. It predates the Firestone witches by a millenia, at least, and no one knows where it came from or why it was created. When the Firestone witches discovered it, they hid it away in one of their temples, believing it was a book belonging to the oldest