Hiraeth Book Novels & Stories

“One we used to think was just lore. But now…” Ezra pulls out an old, leather-bound book and places it on the table. I recognize it as part of the books Miren had given us yesterday. I lean forward. The pages are faded, ancient. He turns to a marked section and reads aloud: ‘When the child of moon and mist returns, her howl shall split the skies and bring reckoning to those who feared her rise. She will stand between sun and shadow, peace and war. The blood of ancients will stir through her veins and the lost shall rise behind her.’

Inside was a single object, bound in a frost-coated bark, etched with the golden spiral. It pulsed once in his hand and then went still. And the cathedral listened. Kieran opened the book and read out loud: “Those who read this book have already been damned. When you pass through those doors of how you so crave, it shall be your demise in the true self of you. For you shall see it, the thing that is everything.” Kieran gulped as he carried on reading.

"And say it." "Yes," I say. Her name is Tira. She makes us more tea. We stay for the afternoon. And Reneth — the river city, the valley city, the city whose anchor was below the riverbed the whole time that Ilden Vray thought she had suppressed it — hums. The full five-point system. Warm and present and held. For the first time in two years. *This,* it says. *Yes,* I say. *This.*

Chapter 4: Full Moon’s Claim The full moon hung heavy in the stormy sky like a watchful eye, casting silvery light through the attic windows of the old lodge. Elara stood by the dusty window, her braided hair falling over her shoulders, cream hoodie pulled tight against the chill that seeped through the cracks. Rain still whispered against the glass, blurring the pine forest beyond into soft, dreamy shapes. She felt like that young girl in the stories—reflective and uncertain under the cool blue glow of uncertainty—yet drawn toward something warmer, a golden pull she couldn’t resist. Her body hummed with the aftermath of stolen moments, a secret fire that made every breath feel heavier.

Chapter 48 The Werewolf Realm While Erin reunited with Kate, Zaki, and Kira on the other side of the territory, Levi and Micha remained in their shared study—facing the Living Book. It floated above the table, its ancient golden letters swirling across its surface like flowing fire. "Dearest reader… let us begin," the book hummed, its voice echoing softly through the room. Levi and Micha sat down opposite each other, bracing themselves. Every session with the Living Book revealed something darker than the last.

“When the binding sealed. There was… a recoil. Not from the Hunger. From somewhere else.” Eira nodded slowly. “The same thing Lyra sensed before she collapsed.” The low hum Lyra had dreamed of stirred again, faint but undeniable, like distant thunder rolling beneath the world. “Something woke up,” Lyra said. “Yes,” Eira replied. “Or more accurately, something noticed us.” Silence pressed in around them, heavier than the cold. Kael straightened, scanning the horizon. The frostlands stretched endlessly in every direction, white ridges, frozen spires, vast plains of ice reflecting a sky bruised purple and gray. Beautiful. Empty.

But none of them are what I need. Exhaustion stretches its fingers through me. I rub my eyes, dragging my palms over my face. I haven’t slept since before the claiming, and even then, it was more surrender than rest. But I can’t stop. Not yet. Not until I find something that will help Khael. My hand grazes another book tucked behind the larger volumes. It’s thin. Bound in dark blue fabric. No title. I slide it free. The first page contains only a title: The Curse of Hucow Hollow.

CHAPTER 4 – “WE WERE HOPING YOU'D SAY THAT.” They led me through the woods at dawn. I walked between Elric and Elara, silent, my pulse beating like a drum. My thoughts were heavy with what I’d read in that hidden book: Mira of the Lost Line. The girl who could either save or destroy. Was that truly me? “Where are we going?” I finally asked. Elric didn’t respond, but Elara said softly, “Somewhere ancient. Where your blood will speak the truth.”

She took this time to skim through all the pages between the first passage regarding the rhododendron bushes and the bone-chilling page 47, hoping to find something more about this place which the writer spoke of so malevolently. She came across many different topics such as the history of the mysterious Seluitah tribe, the hierarchy of the Spirits, various passages concerning potions and healing draughts, and something about the gates to a place called Valhalla. Lyda paused for a moment when she came across a strange drawing on one page that looked like a snake winding around in a circle to clutch its tail in its mouth, above which was a barely-legible word that she could only pronounce as,

I steeled myself and suppressed that horrible urge to scream into the darkness. My eyes found another paragraph on the page, towards the bottom of the book. Something about the passage caught my attention, and I found myself reading further. I couldn’t peel my eyes away, even if I wanted to. This book—it could give me everything. The beginning, middle, and end. Who else knew the details of their entire life? I could change the future by knowing—I could see if I actually find the Game Master. “Though finding a mate lingered on her mind, she soon embraced the adventure and allure of Iridian. Little did she know, Rachel was going to get much more than she bargained for. Would Rachel venture int