Holly Black Book Of Night 소설 & 이야기

It felt good to laugh again, even if it hurt my head. We settled on her couch, and I told her everything. The files. The ciphers. The names. The things no one was ever supposed to see. “I’ve unlocked so much, Raina,” I said, sliding the notepad across the table. “Detailed records of meetings. Blackmail lists. Offshore accounts. All connected to the Order.” Her eyes widened as she skimmed through the pages. “You’re kidding…” “And that’s not all,” I continued, my voice dropping. “There’s something called the Black Book, a hidden digital ledger. It documents every transaction, every cover-up, every crime. And it’s tied directly to Mr. Everhart.”

I knock on the damn thing and there's a hollow sound coming from inside. "How the fuck does he open this thing?" I touch every part of the wall until I feel something out of the ordinary. I push it and hold my breath. Please let it open. The almost realistic wooden magazine moves to the right, then I see a drawer inside. I press the small button next to it and the drawer moves to the left. Holy fuck. I chuckle. Haiden freaking Blackwood. A genius cunning wolf in the flesh. Two Frost-moon pack werewolf books are placed inside. What surprises me though, is the small book placed between them. I immediately notice it's yellow cover, something closer to gold. It must have been gold but worn out

But the moment it touched my skin, it evaporated like smoke in the wind. “Still won’t take it,” he murmured, shaken. “It’s like your magic’s being… redirected.” “Into what?” Azric growled. But no one had an answer. ***************************************** Later, when the chaos settled and Nyra’s blood was wiped from the floor, she summoned us to my quarters. The old book—that book—was open on the floor before her, pages scattered like bones. But one page near the end was… different. Blackened. Burned.

The fog in Blackwood Glen had a habit of swallowing sounds, turning the evening into a claustrophobic dampness that clung to my jacket. I had been hiking the lower trails when I found it: a sleek, charcoal-colored cat with eyes like burning sulfur. It wasn’t meowing; it was simply sitting on a moss-covered stump, watching me with an intelligence that felt uncomfortably human. Around its neck was a delicate silver collar with a nameplate: Midnight. Below the name was an address just a mile down the trail.

Three men burst into the room, dressed in black from head to toe, their silhouettes standing out like menacing shadows in the dim light. One of them, more imposing than the others, stood straight as a blade. He wore a black mask that revealed only his eyes—cold, implacable. Raphina, half-lying on the bed, jumped at the noise. His heart began to race, his brain unable to process what was happening. He didn't even have time to open his mouth before one of the men lunged at him.

I reasoned, bewildered by what was going on. I knew I needed to see Talia. ______________ The lights of the candle flickered as the night breeze of Winterhill blew into Talia's study as she sat there, alone. It was dark outside. The sun had set, giving way for the crescent moon to provide illumination to the region. Her eyes were fixated on a large and ancient book - the Book of Souls. She read through a particular page. She suddenly shifted her gaze to her door, narrowing her gaze at it. She sensed the presence of someone threatening.

The "Author’s Study" was a sanctuary of woodsmoke and old leather, a space that existed in the "Negative Space" between the stories. The shelves that stretched into the infinite were packed with "Bound Histories"—thousands of volumes titled THE BLACKWOOD PACK: SECTOR 4. Silas and Lyra stood on a rug of woven starlight, their forms slowly regaining their "Biological Density" in the presence of the Source.

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.

And I was going back. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hands and forced myself up off the counter. I had to be strong. Papa wouldn’t want this. I packed enough for a couple days and before I knew it, I was getting off a plane and walking down the runway in a trance. It all went by in a hazy blur. I didn’t remember leaving my apartment, let alone getting on a plane, but here I was, just outside the airport. I hailed a cab and told the driver where I was going. He chuckled and raised a bushy black eyebrow. “Blackwater, eh? I don’t think I’ve ever been,” he leaned closer to the rear view mirror and lowered his voice. “I’ve heard rumors about the people there.” I perked up. “Really?” I was cu

The faint glow from the digital clock on the nightstand as it blinked at him, announcing it was 12:05 AM, was the only light source in the room. He fumbled with the switch on the lampshade beside the clock, instantly throwing his world into utter chaos when it came on. Hard as Andrei tried to swallow down his horror, a blood-curdling scream, like his entire world had imploded all around him, ripped through his throat at the sight of Holly lying lifeless beside him, her legs twisted at a bizarre angle, and her soulless eyes staring back at him, the black rose petals oozing from her gaping mouth reminding him of maggots.