Hannibal Lecter X Reader Novels & Stories

I growled, crouching low, "I'll rip that book out of your hands and burn it with you." "You can't even touch me, Alpha." Xander opened the Ledger. The pages began to turn on their own, a blurred storm of parchment and ink, "You see, in the new history I’m writing, you never made it to this mill. You never even left the pack house. You never even fell in love with Darius.” He slammed the book shut. Suddenly, the world around me began to blur. The sound of the saws faded into a dull hum, and the honey-coloured wood of the mill started to grey and rot before my eyes. The heat vanished, replaced by a biting, supernatural cold.

I didn't know what he was thinking, and if I could read midns like he could, then I guess he wouldn't have had anything to keep to himself. Wolves couldn't read minds. We only went with our instincts, and our nostrils that could go lengths, while vampires could do their stuff, and even read minds. That was what Xander could do, he usually read the minds of people, those girls that loved to he around him, and just took their heats and read them. Though he wasn't able to do that to me most of the time, I knew that I couldn't have done it either. Why the hell was he suddenly gloomy, and why was he looking that way?

So, I just squint my eyes and check who he is. It's him. He has brought some pillows together with him and he just puts it in the couch and lies over there. Seriously, what's going on with him? Why is he acting weird behind my back? I close my eyes whenever he turns towards me, like nothing is ever known to me. Like I am dead. He lies down on the couch and I see him turning on the light on the book and reading something. Wait! Xavier reads? Like really? This truth is so much more than I could handle. I have never ever imagined that Xavier reads the books.

“Alpha, step back! Something’s happening.” But I couldn’t move. My gaze was locked on Henry as his body twitched, his hands spasming against the sheets. His eyes snapped open, and for a fleeting moment, hope surged through me. But that hope turned to ice when I saw his irises—inky black, swallowing the light. “Henry,” I said, my voice trembling. “It’s me. Xavier.” His head turned slowly, unnaturally, his blackened eyes fixing on mine. A cold, mocking smile curved his lips, and when he spoke, it wasn’t his voice. It was layered, ancient, and resonant, filled with a power that chilled me to my core.

I stayed curled up in my room, heart thudding against my ribs like a warning drum. Two days passed in silence. Then, one lazy afternoon, I made my way to Xareth’s office. I knocked once before stepping in. The room smelled of ink and cold metal. My eyes flicked to the glass cabinet behind him, and there it was. The living book. Just sitting there, in a cage. “What is it?” Xareth asked, his tone clipped. “I’ve finished all the books in my room,” I said with practiced calm. “I was wondering if I could get more.”

Every moment he wasted locating Reader was another moment in which neither of them were safe. They had to board before their level was sealed shut. "Reader!" Guard fought against his form's thick fingers to try to navigate the terminal which showed the location of every living entity in Records. Xuhelion were known for their stamina in battle, not for their dexterity. If he only had a little more time... "Guard?" Reader was far enough into Records for his voice to be a whisper in Guard's mind. Focusing on him allowed Guard to determine he was still on the floor with the most sacred of texts---and he had been reading as usual. No sense of urgency existed in his voice.