Fragments Book Novels & Stories

A book came out along with his hand, both fully intact. “The Courage to Trust,” by Dr. Franklin Reed. He had to be joking. There were hidden cameras here somewhere, I just knew it. No fucking way was the god of wolves cracking open a self-help book from the mortal realm. Sure enough, he fanned through the book eagerly, skipping over several chapters in the process. The tip of his tongue appeared from between his plump lips. He found the page he’d been looking for and quickly skimmed it. With a satisfied hum, he chucked the book behind his shoulder where it was swallowed up by that strange, shimmering magic.

This place somehow feels empty. "Why don't you go upstairs to my room. I will join you quickly" Aiden said. I nod my head and then went upstairs in his room. There isn't much thing in the room. A bed , reading table , bedside table , bookshelf and a freaking walk in closet. There is also some kind of feelings here. There are some photos on the reading table. As I am watching them I heard the door lock. "Oh you are-" When I was saying as I was turning back I bump in Aiden who is already behind me and pinning me.

Crystal muttered, smiling as she was led by Angelica to sit by the nearby desk, a few steps after passing the 3rd row of shelves. Angelica placed the book down with a thud before holding the hardbound cover of the said book and flipped it open, the contents revealing printed images with words citated beside or under the photos. The pages itself seemed to be slowly darkening due to oxidation and time. The pages were fragile as if they will be torn just by a mere mistake of flipping them in an unruly way, which explains Angelica’s delicate actions.

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he retorted. I snorted at that. I shook my head and that’s when I noticed the books laid out in front of him. They looked old, and their leather covers cracked with age. “These books look interesting. What are they about?” I asked. “Dragons,” he replied simply, flicking one of the covers with his fingers. Dragons? “Do you have a thing for dragons?” I tilted my head, intrigued. “Is that why you got the Dragon’s Heart Fragment?” River’s smirk faded. He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

Lycan? I scan my eyes over the subtitles of chapters, flipping through it distractedly. Flipping another page my eyes narrow as I see the frayed remains of pages that have clearly been ripped from their rightful place. Flattening my lap, I flatten the ripped fragments of paper left, blinking in confusion as I see fragments of what would seem like ‘Rolf’ names along with other words that I can’t describe. Someone seems doesn’t want people to read what’s written here, I thought and placed a bookmark before grabbing another book.

After helplessly fretting the whole morning, Caelum wanted nothing more than to have some clue about Seraphina's whereabouts. He opened the folder quickly and pulled out the contents. One ring, as well as stacks of printed messages and photos, came into view.

The creature leaned forward, and though its face was nothing but shadow, I felt its attention scrape against my skin like claws. “She carries the soul fragment.” Everyone tensed. Even Fenrir. “What soul fragment?” Gabriel demanded. The creature ignored him. Instead, it raised a hand, its long fingers stretching, curling and pointed directly at my chest. “The book followed her because it belongs to her essence. To her past. To what she was.” I stepped back, legs shaking. “No,” I breathed. “I don’t understand, what are you talking about?” The creature tilted its head again, movements jerky. “You do not remember. But you will. Soon.”

The pungent scent of liquor hung heavily in the air, mixing with the unmistakable odor of despair. What has he done to himself? My heart raced as I rushed to his side, panic flooding my veins when I noticed the unsightly bruises that marred his body and the blood-soaked bandages wrapping his head. I stared at him through a haze of tears, my heart aching at the sight of the man I once knew in such a dismal state. It felt like a piece of my soul was being crushed under the weight of his suffering. With trembling hands, I carefully wrapped my arms around him, trying to lift him up, but he hissed in pain and groaned softly. It was then that I caught sight of the bandages binding his ribs—evidenc

Set it on the table and opened to the section where pages had been torn out. Four pages. Gone. Removed with surgical precision. I ran my fingers along the ragged edges still clinging to the binding. The paper was not yellowed like the rest of the book. Not aged. The tears were clean. Recent. Very recent. I pulled the lamp closer. Examined the binding. There. At the base of the torn section. A fragment. So small I had missed it the first time. A corner of a page that had not completely pulled free. I used my fingernail to carefully extract it. The fragment was maybe an inch square. Most of it blank. But in the corner. A few words visible in that same ancient script.