Gaunt's Ghosts Book Order Novels & Stories

I slipped behind a broken section of wall, pressing myself flat against the stone. The footsteps passed. Two guards. Running. Running. That never happens. Guards don’t run. Not here. Not unless something is very wrong. I waited. Counted slowly in my head. Then I stepped out again. But this time… I didn’t go deeper. I turned back. Because something told me— Whatever was happening tonight… I wasn’t ready for it. Thorne POV The first wolf came from the left. Fast. Silent. Wrong move. I twisted just as it lunged, my claws tearing through its throat mid-air. Blood sprayed across my chest as its body crashed beside me.

She knocked on Gail’s door. A moment later, the door cracked open to reveal her aunt—hair wild, eyes half-lidded with sleep. But the second she saw the book in Elena’s arms, she snapped awake. “What’s wrong?” she murmured. Elena entered the room and sat on the small couch while Gail closed the door behind them. The guard stationed himself outside. “There’s something wrong with my mom’s book. The pages won’t let me read them.” Gail took the Book of Shadows, already frowning. She flipped pages fast—faster—then stopped with a sharp inhale.

“I was in and out of sleep.” “Thoughts of Titanic?” He turned to face her now, and he was sitting more closely than she thought prudent. “Sometimes,” she shrugged. “Most of my ghosts reside elsewhere.” He closed his eyes and turned his head away. “I’m sorry, Meg.” “I don’t need your sympathy either,” she reminded him, though her tone was just as innocent as his had been. “I suppose not,” he admitted, turning back to face her. “But you have it just the same.”

she replied and seethed at Kyle who gave her a hard slap across the face. “There is another thing,” Gazzeus said and rose to his feet. “I saw the mummified body of a young girl. Must have been up to a day since she dried but I noticed she had black blood.” “Black blood,” Aamon repeated in an uninterested tone and used his thumb to rub his forehead. His hand suddenly stopped moving and he shot his eyes wide before standing from his throne. “Did you say black blood?” he asked. “Yes, master. Isn’t it strange that the witches are back after a long time and the Nightbloods whom we thought were no longer in existence are now being used by them?”

he whispers. That thought terrifies me more than anything because I knew that Ghost has her scent now and no matter where she goes, he is willingly to follow her to the ends of the earth……fuck. I go back inside, fall onto the bed and open the book, tracing the first line with my thumb.

"The Bloodbound will rise again." The dagger's light flared once, as if answering him. And far above the ruins, in the night sky, a murder of crows took flight - screaming into the dark.

He wasn’t summoning beasts. He was dragging the in-between into the now. Cracks tore open in the sky. The air turned sharp, cold, wrong. Ghosts spilled through the veil—wolves, twisted and lost, turned half-mad by unfinished lives. Not just spirits. These were memories that had forgotten they’d died. They surged toward me. I roared, driving my dagger into the ground. A ring of light exploded outward. The ghosts wailed, some vanishing instantly, others dragged back into their graves by unseen hands.

Ghost is a dark fae, which means he’s greedy, likes death, and likes pretty women with spunk. His short white hair is spiked. Ghost wears a black sleeveless hoodie and black and white checkered jeans with black boots. His eyebrows, nose, and lips are all pierced with gages in both ears. His pointed ears give him away that he is fae. Ghost has all black eyes, much like one would think a demons would be if they were real. Some things are just stories made up of distorted truths. Demons and angels fall into that category. Ghost's pasty white skin almost glows under the glow of the flashing lights.

His books told me otherwise. I didn’t break my rhythm, stacking, straightening, dusting as though nothing at all had caught my attention. But the pattern was set, and I never ignored patterns. Three days in a row. Three books building a trail into shadows. And I was already following. ~~~~~~ The fourth day. He returned. No glasses slipping down as he read this time. No quiet hours spent in the chair by the window. He walked straight to the shelves, ran his hand along the spines, and pulled out a book without lingering. Chasing a Ghost No One Can See.

With a click, the clasp came undone, and the pendant fell to the floor. In a flash, Zoe’s eyes widened. She grabbed my collar like a madwoman. “Y-You… You didn’t switch fates? You lied to me?!” I looked at her in surprise. “What are you talking about?” Miles suddenly exclaimed, “Ow, Maisie. My neck feels itchy.” He pulled down his collar, exposing his collarbone, and clearly revealed who was actually wearing the demonic fate-swapping lock.