Novel & Cerita Game Of Thrones Leather Bound Books

He wore a thick, black robe. Springtime in the capital wasn't that cold, so the robe was overly thick for the weather. I figured this was a habit Gideon had gotten into after all his years in Morbeck. He probably couldn't change so quickly. His Majesty beckoned to me when he saw me. Only then did I get to see Gideon up close. He was handsome, and his gaze was sharp. Appearance-wise, he was definitely good-looking. The only thing was that his skin was coarse and that he had a scar marring his cheek.

One I learned as a child, hidden in the back of a witch-thief’s tent under moonlight and fear. The doors groaned open, revealing a forgotten vault of knowledge. Books bound in scales. Scrolls sealed in bloodwax. Shelves bowed under the weight of secrets too dangerous to burn. My fingers trembled as I sifted through them. One text caught my eye—an iron-clasped tome titled: The Bloodbound Legacy: Curses and Coronations. Inside, something waited. A single folded parchment was tucked between the brittle pages, ink faded to the color of old wounds. There was no title. No scribe's name.

If we ever found ourselves on opposing sides of a conflict, he wouldn't think twice about crushing me. The four kings and their heirs occupy the rest of the chairs: Pakstan of the North with Pharaoah, Theo of the South with Thorn, River of the East, and me, and lastly, Nathan of the fuckin' West with his second son, Elliot. The latter gives me a scowl, and I return it without blinking. He is a little younger than father in age, but he is still tall, and his grey eyes are exceedingly penetrating. Without sure, he is the one who proposed Bella be wed to one of his kids, who are more repulsive than he is.

He stepped up and wrapped his arms around me as we looked out at the view. An hour later Gabe was called back to the office for an emergency meeting, and I browsed through the library in the penthouse and found a book to read. I was far into the book when I thought I heard a noise. I knew Gabe wouldn’t be back this soon, so I got up and searched the apartment and didn't find anything. Maybe I am just hearing things? I walk into the kitchen brewed myself a cup of herbal tea and walked back with my mug into the library to continue reading the romance novel. Once settled on the comfy oversized chair I took a sip of my tea set down the mug then picked up the book. After thirty minutes or so as I

Máire smiled warmly. “Ah, here it is.” Shae announced, bringing down a thick leather-bound book. The leather was worn, and the edge of the pages yellowed with age. I couldn’t make out any lettering on the binding. I wondered just how old this tome is. I was so eager to touch it and possibly date it that I took it from Shae before John could.

Only the sound of dripping water echoed through the temple. She glanced around. The walls were covered with runes ancient, jagged, almost alive. Some pulsed faintly when she looked at them too long. At the center of the room stood a black altar made of obsidian, carved in the shape of wings. Something about it made her chest tighten. Kael noticed her staring. "That altar once held the seal of the first Bloodbound." Her head snapped toward him. "You said those were legends." "They're not," he said. "This is where she died."

Others were modern thrillers and contemporary fiction, their glossy jackets still vibrant. But then she came to a section that felt...different. These books weren’t stacked like the others. They were nestled into the shelves like treasures, rich, cracked leather covers, some with gold foiling so worn it was barely legible. Her hand paused over one that read, The History of the Black Moon Pack. Her brows knit. “Pack?” she murmured under her breath, pulling it from the shelf.

But when she pulled it free, her breath stopped. The book was unlike anything she had ever seen. Its cover was bound in leather so dark it seemed almost black, though in the right light it shimmered faintly with hues of deep crimson. Strange symbols—curved, jagged, and foreign—were etched into its surface, pressed deep into the hide like scars. No title marked its spine. A lock, thin and ancient-looking, sealed its pages.

But what catches my eye is s a stack of books I’ve never seen before. They are in several different shades of blue, but all covered in the same material. It looks like a leather but more textured, maybe another animal hide? They have the most beautiful gold writing on them and I am just simply, drawn to them. I want to sit with them and hold them, I want to stroke the covers and open them but not just read them I want to devour the contents of these books. It’s a weird feeling. I feel as drawn to them as I do to Leo.

He bowed and was gone as quickly as he arrived, leaving the heavy satchel behind. I lunged for the bag the moment the tent flap sealed. I untied the cord with shaking fingers and pulled out the book. It wasn't ancient and brittle. It was a modern reprint, but the cover read: Healers' Lore: The Legacy of the Wounded Crown. It was a medical text, disguised as a historical relic.