Hyacinth Book Novels & Stories

"Then the moon's mourning ended, the snow began to melt, feeding the soil and giving strength so that new lives could grow there. It didn't take long for the beautiful purple hyacinths to be born, leaving a beautiful lilac sea before the small temple of Hyacinth." "It also didn't take long for a woman thin as a stick and with long black hair to approach the temple. Along her hair were flowers so purple that they almost mixed with that cascade of darkness, the woman's clothes were rag gold, she was almost naked walking towards the temple. When Hyacinth looked into this woman's eyes, she could see that it was Hellebore who was walking towards her.

“Hyacinth, will you join me?” She walks over, looking out over the crowd that is very quiet. When she comes to stand beside me, I pull out the book that Ailduin helped me to make. “When we were on the battlefield, I saw Hyacinth fighting against a fae soldier. He had her mate on the ground and she was punching him, trying to protect her mate with no thought to her own safety, or risk to her own life. While protecting our mates is something we would all do, I know it goes against everything in a sprite to fight. So, I would like to present this book to you, Hyacinth. It’s titled, Hyacinth: A Brave Sprite, and it is the story of our battle and your role in the fight.”

Hyacinth patted the empty bit of sofa beside her – and then realised it was so covered in pink, fluffy blankets and cushions that she had to remove about a dozen of them before I could even attempt to sit down. ‘Maybe it would be better if she didn’t move them,’ said Brian, with the air of someone adjusting their monocle. ‘This is a barrier to keep your pesky little hands off.’ I sighed again; Hyacinth met my eyes and smiled sympathetically. She shoved off the last few cushions and a bundled-up throw and then sat back down, her legs crossed, a large, old book held open on her lap. Its pages were yellowed and warped, and its cover was leather-bound and gilded.

***Raven*** Hyacinth was the flower of the night—the only bloom that thrived in the moonlight. She was radiant, captivating, and effortlessly enchanting, much like the woman who had raised her, Margarette Sinclair. Though I hadn’t yet formally met the Sinclairs, it was clear that Hyacinth had brought a sense of joy and peace to Margarette’s family. Watching her interact with Margarette’s eldest son, I could see how her honesty and authenticity had won them over. It was impossible not to fall under her spell. She was introverted, yet she had a way of connecting with people, especially those with old souls. She was extraordinary, and I was endlessly proud to call her mine.

I am trying not to return to the apartment and find them together. “Do we know how Mathius’s meeting went yesterday?” Emmy asks. “From what Dylan told me, it went well. I guess the woman, Nayleen, that he met with was incredibly helpful.” Sapphire answers. So that is the woman's name. Damn, even her name is beautiful as she is. Once again, the apartment is dark, or that is what I thought. Someone left the dimmer light on, making the living room look like something out of a romance novel that Sapphire reads. She is into those fantasy/paranormal romance stories. Has Dylan caught her reading them? Giant hands grab my hips as I touch the switch to turn it off. I scream as I am pulled ba

She nodded and turned her attention to the front and listened to what the professor discussed. “I’m going to the library. It’s boring here,” I said, and before she could confirm, I already teleported to the library. I walked toward the bookshelves and selected some books, but an old book on the far end of the shelf caught my attention. It was full of dust, so I used my powers to get rid of the dust. ‘The Moon’ is the title of the book. The title seems interesting, so I read it.

Hyacinth will never forget whoever it was that caused her death and disappearance. It would be convenient to hate Alice. She lied and let her be another person when there were people waiting for her to come back. But Hyacinth couldn’t bring herself to do that. Alice loved her like her own. In the files Preston gave, it said that they’ve lost both their parents at a very young age. In a way, she is thankful that she got to experience what it’s like to have a loving mother.

Mother Agnes says. "Okay," I say. I follow Mother Agnes to another room. Libby follows up, bringing the book. There is a table with candles and a black and purple cloth resting neatly on it. The three of us sit at the table. Libby scoots the book to Mother Agnes for her to open. Mother Agnes says something over the book in almost a whisper. The book opens. The book seems to take on a life of its own. The page race from the beginning to the end and then settle on the first page.

"I inquired about any other plants that may have the same effect and he claimed that the hyacinth flowers burned him so badly that he had to seek medical attention." Before I know it, I'm drifting away into the darkness that awaits me in my dreams. They're filled with monsters and hyacinths, both intertwining in a fatal embrace.

Hyacinth stood at the edge of the carriage, her eyes wide with fear and desperation. “Stop,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t do this.” For a moment, I hesitated. The rage in my chest battled with the softer emotions her presence stirred in me. My hand trembled. “Please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “This isn’t who you are.” I released him, shoving him to the ground. He gasped for air, his hand clutching his throat as he looked between Hyacinth and me. “This isn’t over,” he rasped before disappearing into the shadows. “And I swear… I will track you down until you’ve got nowhere to hide.”