Gideon Books Novels & Stories

“The work you’ve done with the libraries and the outreach programs—it’s incredible. You’ve actually managed to build something that matters.” Lena blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sincerity in his tone. “That means so much, Gideon. Thank you.” She found herself smiling wider than she intended. The warmth in his gaze didn’t feel performative. And even though she was made to stay by Damon’s side today, she wanted desperately, even for a split second to play as herself, even if it meant conversing briefly with Gideon . “I just moved to New York a few months ago,” Gideon continued. And when I heard about the gala, I knew I couldn’t miss it. The Wren Foundation’s become kind of a benchmark

"Oh Alex. Where is Gideon now?" "He is in Aota working as their warrior still. But he is also spying for me. I threw a bag Carmen and I made as children inside the water, because Incase the men I thought of helping would try to cause harm to Gideon and I." "What kind of bag?" "A quilted, silky textured handbag,with yellow and pink thread decoration on it." "Did the back have a book inside?" "Yes it did." "David found the bag. He came with it from work."

Hands still visible. “You could have killed me,” he says. “I still can,” I reply. He nods—once. Walks to the door. Pauses. “Gideon won’t stop,” he says—quiet. “He’s not like the old ones. He doesn’t want power. He wants perfection. And he’ll burn everything to get it.” Then he’s gone—footsteps fading down the stairwell. We don’t chase him. We take the laptop. Wipe the house for prints. Leave through the garden the same way we came.

Phoebe's second response was to wonder why the world was such a small place. Most people hated running into people they knew when they were shopping alone… At least, that was how she felt. Gideon wasn't dressed formally that day. Instead, he wore a sleek all-black athletic outfit paired with a long black trench coat from the same brand as the one he'd tossed out. It was just a different length. His sharp, striking features were as flawless as ever, but his demeanor was, as always, icy enough to freeze anyone in their tracks.

he asked her placing his hands on the table. Judy shook her head hinting no. "Good. " he replied with a nod then brought out his notebook and pulled a pen from his drawer. "We were discussing Gideon the other day." Dr Mathew said after fiddling few pages of the book he brought out. "Tell me about Gideon. " he said adjusting his glasses and Judy nodded reluctantly.

“Let me see the journal.” Isla pulled the leather-bound book from her bag and handed it to him. Gideon opened it carefully, his fingers tracing the faded script and strange symbols on the pages. His eyes narrowed as he read, and for a long time, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of crackling fire. “This is old,” Gideon murmured, more to himself than to them. “Older than the Crescent Moon pack itself.” “Can you read it?” Isla asked, her voice laced with hope and frustration.

Gideon replied. Without paying any more attention to Chase, Attwell, the Pope, or Yohan, he dashed straight into the cave. The Pope yelled in frustration, "Damn it! Take care of Chase first!" "I told you this kid can't be trusted." Yohan fumed, furious. Nevertheless, they had no choice but to concentrate all their efforts on Chase and Attwell. Meanwhile, the S-class dragon vein was locked in an intense battle with Oklarth. Inside the cave, Gideon found the Eartharch Book, which emitted a subtle, soul-piercing glow. Yet, its surface was devoid of words or symbols. It resembled a book of blank celestial scriptures.

she warned, holding up her flashlight as if it were a weapon. Gideon chuckled, unperturbed. “You think you can stop me with that? Adorable.” I gripped the ledger tighter, my palms slick with sweat. “You’ve already lost, Gideon. This ledger is all the proof we need to destroy you.” His smile faded, replaced by a dark scowl. “You don’t understand what you’re playing with, do you? That book isn’t just my downfall—it’s yours, too. The moment you expose what’s in there, you’ll make enemies you can’t even imagine.”

“What?” “If this ends well,” Gideon said, solemn as a knight taking an oath, “I’ll get you a goat. A quiet place. Cinnamon buns. Shelves full of potion bottles and too many books. And a cupboard of chipped teacups, if that’s what makes it feel like home.” I stared at him, stunned. “Wait—how do you know about the cinnamon buns?” “The palace kitchen,” Gideon said. “Years ago. The night you climbed the armory oak for cinnamon buns. I was certain you were going to fall—but you didn’t.”