Heart Scales Book Novels & Stories

Nyra’s POV I sat on the bed and placed Elaine’s book in front of me. For a moment I did nothing else. I just looked at it properly. In the library it had felt old and important. Here, on my bed, in this room, it felt stranger than that. More private. More dangerous. Like it did not want to be mistaken for a random old text preserved for curiosity’s sake. It was thick and heavy, yes, but now that I was alone with it I noticed more. The cover was not ordinary leather at all. Up close, the texture was wrong in a way that raised the hair on my arms. It had a faint pattern under the dark surface, not visible at first glance but there when the light caught it sideways. Not wolf hide. Not cow leath

This was the most content I've been in my entire life. "Twin gifts" I whispered to the books as I walked threw to the back and found more tables and behind them were more vertical rows of book cases under the balcony. After the first set of shelves it was pitch black and I wondered what was hiding back there. I walked over to them and seen all the books were dark green and made out of a soft scale material I ran my fingers over them and felt each bump. Just as my curiosity was bout to walk me into the darkness a large red book came dancing into my vision startling me, I took a few steps back letting it pass me. I watched as it was floating slowly slightly bouncing in the air.

Eli was at one side of the den, fallen to his face, his robe stained with blood and dust. The dancing flames of the torch glimmered in her tear-filled eyes and she bit down a sob that wreaked through her. She took a step forward, only to see something else. Those same eyes that she dreaded, staring back at her. It almost felt like she was in her dream, only that this time, it was real. ___ Slender fingers with long red polished nails clicked against a jar half filled with scales. There were a number of them on the shelve. The jar was settled on the floor and the hand dove into it, shaky as it grabbed unto the red and silver scales.

"Yes. Every four hours, my hands become unbearably itchy for about 20 minutes! But that's not the worst part. When the itching strikes, strange scales appear on my hands." Scales on her hands? As Felix was about to speak, something clicked. Melissa had mentioned their guild's nemesis—Fish Men. They had hands covered in scales. Could there be a connection?

My gaze swept across the room before landing on the mirror, and that’s when I saw it. A scale. My breath hitched. A small, iridescent scale glistening faintly against my collarbone. It was barely noticeable, but the moment I registered what it was, my heart slammed against my ribs. My fingers trembled as I reached up, brushing against it. The texture was smooth, slightly raised, alien against my skin. No. No, no, no. Panic shot through me like ice water, and I stumbled back, my mind racing. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. My breathing turned shallow, my chest tightening painfully as I pressed my palm over it, as if I could will it to disappear.

She went through the books, and found a whole row dedicated to embroidery, and all needle related work, except it was very close to the top. She spotted a ladder, and with Richard's help she laid the ladder on the shelf. Once she got it there, she didn't find it hard to climb up and get the book, as Richard was holding the ladder steady. But coming down, she made the mistake of looking at her distance from the ground and suddenly grew cold feet. She could not move, and it took a good twenty minutes for Richard to convince her that she would not fall to her death while climbing down. Ann had always been scared of height, and she was beginning to wonder what had possessed her into climbing in

"The Seers say you were gone for three minutes, Elara. Your heart had stopped. Your blood had turned to slush." "I had to reach it," I said, pushing myself up. The silk sheets hissed against my skin, and that’s when I saw them. I froze. My hands. They weren't pink and soft anymore. From the tips of my fingernails to the middle of my forearms, my skin had transformed. The violet scales I had seen in the vision were no longer a shimmering light; they were a physical reality. They were fine, overlapping plates of dark, iridescent amethyst that felt harder than obsidian. When I moved my fingers, the scales slid over one another with a faint, musical clink.

Ziska scurried across the walkway toward Nyxios's chambers, the numerous bangles on her wrists jingling with each hurried step. The grey-scaled Scalekin servant moved with surprising agility despite her characteristic waddle, her amber eyes darting to catalog every detail she passed. She barely stood four feet tall. As she approached her destination, she adjusted the small pouch at her hip where, among other necessities, she kept her secret collection of marbles hidden safely away from prying eyes.

She glanced at Stanley again, who was still limp beneath the weight of four goblins sitting on top of him. Then Scar, at last, looked up at Stanley. He was still naked after his shift, his perfectly sculpted body on full display. But unlike her, there was no modesty in him. His powerful muscles radiated strength and surety, all the way from his broad shoulders to his powerful thighs. While he met her gaze unflinchingly, his eyes like chips of ice. "Scar," he said, his voice dripping with venom, "why did you run?" She averted her gaze, trying hard not to look at his nakedness or even think about it. She and Hazel were in grave danger, having sorely miscalculated just how powerful and capable

Only ever at her. His hair burned red like something out of a dream, and the dark-green scales tracing the back of his neck caught the light in a way that made my stomach twist every single time I let myself stare too long. Intimidating. Gorgeous. Strange, in a way I couldn't explain and couldn't stop thinking about no matter how many times I told myself to stop.