Immortal Book Novels & Stories

They were around fifty, wandering around the world, living among the human just as the perfect human, still waiting for the sacrifice that could lead them to the path of eternal afterlife to heaven. ********* Author's note. Hello everyone !!! So, here is the completion of the second part of the story, The Immortal Love. Third part is on the way. You can find me on instagram as @Rosechrys5996. Do follow me to know more about my works and to chit chat with me. Trust me, I am a good speaker on chat, hehe. So, stay tuned and stay happy and healthy everyone. Thank you clicking the story and reading it. *******

Somehow the latter seems more appealing. “That doesn’t sound so good,” he notices, “what do you need a potion for?” “I need something that will get someone drunk,” I say distractedly, sliding the useless green book back into its place, moving on down the stack. “Ah, alcohol does exist…” he reminds me. I roll my eyes. “That won’t work. Not on an immortal.”

He laughed with blood dripping down his mouth, with Damon’s hand still locked around his throat, with the tree bark cracking behind his back, with his face so wild it didn’t even look human anymore, he laughed like one of those villains in the movies who knows the whole world is about to burn and wants to watch it happen just for fun. “You can’t kill me,” Darren choked out between that horrible laughter, his grin splitting wide, his voice shaking with the sound of it like he didn’t even care Damon could crush his windpipe any second. “I’m immortal, brother. Did you hear me? Immortal. We will see who dies first.” Immortal? And then he did it.

Yet Zild’s blood was still better. “You killed a human?” She turned to me with an annoyed expression, “why would I kill for you?” That was a no I presume. “What will you do to that egg?” She pointed upstairs like she was asking me to go up and leave her alone. “You’ll find something interesting up there.” She said so I did not waste a second and climbed up. Once I got in there, I found books on the bed. I picked up a book and read the title. “The Last Immortal.”

Mira sighed in defeat. "Okay, I'll take care of how you can register as students. I'll take care of the information needed." I nodded before folding my arms. "One thing I am thinking about right now is how to identify that immortal." The three of us looked at each other. "I have a book about that. Wait, let me find it first." Miss Rita stood up and entered a room. We waited silently until she walked out, holding an old, vintage book. He returned to his seat and quickly turned the page of the book."

Not a mark on me. I sat there for hours, staring at the horizon — a wasteland of melted earth and twisted steel. The sun rose again, as if mocking me for surviving what should have ended everything. My reflection in the glass wasn’t human anymore; my eyes had changed. There was something eternal behind them — not divine, not demonic — just… unending. That was the day I knew for certain — I would never die. And whatever task that voice promised me… it was gone. Centuries passed. I kept living, losing, searching.

It ignored every rule she’d ever read and paid her back with honesty in ways that almost made her laugh. Evenings, they read. Side by side at his small table, a lamp between them, Nothing the fox sprawled across their laps, oblivious and comfortable. Cultivation texts for her, array notes for him. Arguments happened—quiet and deep—about immortal sects or mushrooms (the only vegetable he reliably remembered to grow, apparently).

Her brow is furrowed, aged skin creased. "What's that look?" I ask warily. "There is nothing, about whether you can become immortal again," she announces, once she had finished jotting down her results. She slams the book shut, dust billowing out, which I fan my hand through irritably. "Seriously?" "It appears to be barred by magic. This is a very unfamiliar territory, I don't think the wisest of Gaze Readers could navigate this." She gets up, shuffling over the creaking floorboards.

Johan piped up. Harlow nod at Karina, and smiled at Johan. An immortal never truly dies, unless their killer knew what to do to make sure they stay die. They would reborn again each time, but that meant their mates would have to wait until they were of age.

I hiss. Apparently, you can't trust the word of someone you met in an underground werewolf bar. The entrance to Dyad Marketplace should be here, right past the— Something glimmers in the bricks on the other side of the fountain. Something bright and shiny. Striding across the courtyard, I approach the bit of metal stuck in the wall. A grin breaks across my face. "Perfect." Placing my fingers on the thin strip of metal—something that would appear completely innocuous and meaningless to any basic person walking by—I speak the incantation. "Aperta obidier."