Harvard Library Human Skin Books Novels & Stories

She knew she should not but her curiosity got the best of her and she found herself moving closer to the round object which sat on a desk this time and not a pedestal like the blue one. Clara's eyes remain trained on the orb as she approached the desk shaped like a cross with single wooden chairs at each angle. She had been focused on the orb that she almost missed the other items on the table which were enough to dash every thought of the orb out of her mind. What caught her attention the most was not the scattered set of books about the Greeks, Romans, Greek gods on the left crux. It definitely wasn’t the spell books on the right crux, nor surprisingly was it the axe and daggers of differe

The human library perfectly cultivated this one-of-a-kind aroma. This one was about bridges of the world and had a coffee stain on the cover. It wasn't necessarily the topic I would choose, but I was more than happy to absorb any information that had nothing to do with trees or wood nymphs. I couldn't exactly walk to the library myself, my wings might alarm the humans. I looked at them over my shoulder. They were very pretty, especially right now with the late afternoon sun making them glimmer a pinkish gold.

Chapter ten Elara's POV The human library smelled like dust and central heating and the particular stillness of a place where no one was in a hurry. I had never been inside one before. Wolf packs kept their histories in private archives — oral records, sealed ledgers, things that did not leave the territory and were not shared with people who hadn't earned the right to them. The idea of a building where anyone could walk in off the street and read about anything they wanted had seemed, the first time Nessa mentioned it, faintly reckless. Like leaving the doors unlocked. Like trusting the world not to take what you'd left out in the open.

Those were good times. Pushing open the library door, I was enveloped by the familiar scents of paper and ink. The sleek, modern shelves, packed with books of every genre, rose majestically to the ceiling, creating a sea of literary treasures. Every book had been handpicked by me, each one a reflection of my eclectic tastes. I navigated the narrow aisles, my fingers trailing over the spines of the books until they paused in front of a shelf filled with classic novels. With a practiced motion, I pulled a row of books off a shelf, revealing a small, discreet panel. I pressed my thumb against the cool surface, and the panel slid open with a soft click releasing a whisper of secrets.

I looked back at him as he entered closing the door. “My personal library.” He moved over to a large arm chair that was infront of the fireplace thankfully not lit, and sat down. “But,” I looked at a few of the books, they were written in human common. Some of them were books I had read growing up, some were diaries? What was this place? “These are original diaries from humans?” He nodded flipping through his own book, “Explorers from before the barrier went up, afterward, and all things in-between.”

The librarian, a wise old man with spectacles perched on his nose, had greeted them warmly and invited them to explore the dusty shelves filled with ancient tomes. As Scarlett's fingers grazed the spines of the books, a particular leather-bound volume caught her eye. Its title, "The Prophecy of the Shifting Stars," called to her with an inexplicable pull. She plucked it from the shelf and dusted off its cover, revealing faded golden letters etched into the leather. Curiosity burned within Scarlett. She opened the book and began to read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. The words flowed like poetry from her lips, resonating deeply within her soul.

There was no one in it. I walked the shelves. PACK LAW. CONTINENTAL CODES. FOUNDER-LINE PROVISIONS. I pulled down a thin grey volume titled The Hierarchies and Rights of the True Alpha: A Reading. I carried it to the long oak table at the centre. I sat down. I opened it. I had been reading for forty minutes when the library doors opened. I did not look up at once.

“Let’s crack open that one.” “Fine,” August says, handing the book over to me with a slight shudder. I open it, not enjoying the feel of the Human leather and the fact that it’s very close to animal leather. “Gods, I hope that’s in there. Because I can’t bring myself to look for more.”

Constance, noticing my expression, said she would prepare one of the rooms for me. Still amazed by the novelty, I came across a bookshelf filled with books next to the furniture. I flipped through one of them, and to my surprise, I saw detailed illustrations of the human body. Curious, I browsed through some of them, marveling at the complexity of the human organism. “These are my anatomy books,” explained Constance, appearing beside me. My startle made me drop the book, and I immediately apologized. “Sorry, Constance,” I murmured, somewhat embarrassed.

I bet it had been ages since he had seen someone enter this place. “Honored Lord, I’m Hudson. How may I help you? This library is the oldest in Lordslane, so we have every piece the other Libraries don’t.” Hudson began flaunting. “Do you have a book about other species? Vampire or witch?” I asked carefully. “Of course we have it. It’s on the second floor. Let me take you there.” Hudson walked before us. He kept telling a story about this library and the oldest book he had on the shelf. From time to time, he’d ask a question, but I played deaf and gave him a few silver coins.