Griffon's Saddlebag: Book 2 Pdf Novels & Stories

I held onto the two bags and smiled back at him as I collect the bags. "Keep your thanks to yourself and leave my camp at once!" He teased, even though he was almost shouting at me. I didn't understand his behaviour towards me at that moment to be antagonistic even though, he was acting weird. I bowed slightly to him and headed once more to my horse. I arranged the two bags on the back of the horse. Unknown to them, I had sneaked out from the hut before I slept last night, to hide the magic book in one of the sacks still untouched on the back of the horse. Effectively, I was able to hide the Magic book from the bandits. Who knows what could have happened if they had found out about it? No on

The kind that grows after too many close calls and not enough answers. We didn’t say much while we packed. Only the rustle of gear, the soft creak of leather, the metallic click of my blade’s buckle finding its place filled the air. Still, before we left, Nathan came up beside me as I adjusted my satchel. “You really trust this thing?” he asked, nodding toward the book cradled in my arms. I looked down at it, at the soft glow still bleeding through its pages. “I don’t know if trust is the right word,” I said. “But I believe it. That has to be enough.”

He dragged his chair a few feet away from me then sat down. I stared at him in confusion. “What is that?” “This?” He echoed, holding the bag up. “Very important material…” My frown deepened. What exactly was this all about? He pulled something out of the bag. A book rather. My eyes widened as soon as they landed on the covers. “Volume one,” he said, placing the book on his lap. “Volume two.” I could practically feel angels crowning me with shame. “Volume three.” Alchemy of shame.

"F i r s t... l i f e. H e a l e r... n i g h t... j a s m i n e ... a n d... d i e d... i n... t h e... h a n d s... o f... w o l f... s p i r i t. S e c o n d... l i f e. S a m e. I... w o n d e r... i f... y o u r... l i f e... i s... p a t h e t i c... o r... y o u... l i k e... l i v i n g... i n... m i s e r y." He clicked his tongue and the book disappeared from his hand. He put his chin on the back on his hand and stared at her who was standing silently. "Why are you with him? Can't you see these red flags."

The earlier you get there the earlier you can get this out of the way’’ he said, the laughter still present in his voice. I grabbed my mate, whose name I was yet to learn, by the hand and reached for his reins that materialized out of thin air. The rein was a large and strong-looking black rope that was enchanted and every griffin had one, but it would only materialize for the griffin-bound rider.

For now. Her journey home was a bit more lavish than her hike into town. The Lord’s gigantic pickup truck bumped and bustled, and she sat with her old and dusty shoes kicked up on the luxurious navy-cushioned bench across from her. She peered past the silky curtain of the back window once again to check on the petite bag there. Silvers and two spell books, not bad, not bad at all. You know that fluttering feeling your heart gets when someone attractive locks eyes with you? That’s how I feel right now every time I look at that little bag. She thought to herself.

“Gambler, this is Lifter here with Baby Bump at Wimberly Nexus.” “I thought we weren’t doing the code names,” Xavier commented. “It makes him happy,” I shrugged. “Lifter, this is Gambler here with Bandit. How is phase two going?” “Baby Bump has secured the duplicator. We are ready to rendezvous at the meeting point.” Brad informed me. “Perfect, see you soon. Over and out.” I hung up. “That guy is a nut…but I like him.” Xavier laughed. “Alright, let me call Elias, see how everything is at the wedding.”

The Rift loomed before us like the throat of some ancient beast—sealed, yes, but seething with unspeakable energy. The rain fell harder the moment we reached its blackened edge, like the land itself was warning us. Water hissed as it touched the scorched stone. Steam rose around the edges of the Rift, curling like ghostly fingers through the trees. Thunder rolled across the mountains. Prince Damian stood just behind me, his cloak plastered to his frame, sword drawn but held low—like even he knew steel wouldn’t help in what we were about to do. Norma stood to my right, holding the leather-bound grimoire I’d retrieved from the palace vault.

THERESA I jumped onto the enemy wolf, trying to get a good hold of his back. I latched my claws to his body as if he were a piece of rock I was climbing. Thick blood stained my paws. He bucked, but I kept hold of him, riding him as if he were a wild bronco. Nausea bubbled in my stomach. The wild ride was not mixing well with the wolfsbane that was still in my system. I swallowed back the vomit and tightened my grip on him. I would not give in to the wolfsbane or to him. I had to keep him away from Nikolai. It would be far too impossible to fight two wolves at once. Especially such big and trained ones as these. Alpine Snow Pack had certainly not sent their runts out here.

I wandered, fingers trailing along spines, until a thick, aged tome caught my eye: The Rift: The Blood Feud Between Shadowmoor and Nightfang. Curiosity burned. I sat, flipping through tales of broken treaties, stolen land, and one chilling entry about a Luna from Nightfang who was assassinated by a Shadowmoor spy. No wonder these packs hated each other. “I wouldn’t start with the war crimes,” a voice drawled behind me. “The poetry section’s less likely to give you nightmares.” I looked up sharply. A woman leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed, expression wickedly amused. She wore combat boots, a half-buttoned uniform jacket, and a smirk that could slice steel. Her dark blonde curls were