Isolated Book Novels & Stories

But she… didn’t flinch. Lena walked over to a little table display and picked up a thin, cloth-bound book. She walked over to him, holding it out like an offering. *The Quiet Between Lightning Strikes.* A poetry book. The cover was old and nubbly, the title scribbled in fine silver ink. Julian stared at it like it was an alien thing. "What's this?" "A book," she said, smiling. "I told you. I don't—"

Chapter 87: A Story to Tell Isabel sat by the window with an open book in her hands. The room was quiet as if it was saved only for the occasional chirping of birds outside and the soft murmur of her voice as she read aloud. Her fingers traced the words slowly while her brows furrowed in concentration.

It contained a single book. “Woah! This is crazy,” Roger whispered. Lazarus walked up to the book, it was in a glass protective casing. “You didn’t know this was here, did you?” Velma asked. “No, I didn’t,” he clarified. Lazarus inspected the book. “What is it?” Nigel demanded. “It’s so beautiful,” Clarke admired. Lazarus gulped when he realized what it was. “It’s the Book of The God’s.”

Their future. He looked at the bookshelf, neatly lined with books of all kinds. Alizeh’s books, her mother’s books, and Isabella’s books. He could not believe what was happening. This was her home, and she was gone. Her mother was here and barely hanging on, but Alizeh was gone.

I read until my eyes burned and my head ached. Nothing. Not one single record of an alpha being marked from the inside out. Not by a mate. Not by anyone. My frustration grew sharp and ugly. “That’s impossible,” I said aloud, voice echoing softly. “Something like this does not just happen without precedent.” I looked around more to see if there was something I was missing… I looked toward the inner safe and saw a book. The book did not sit with the others. It rested alone on a lower pedestal, darker than the rest, its cover smooth like stone but warm when I stepped closer. The title shimmered faintly, letters shifting until they settled.

The queen was livid and yet again, Anabelle could not give an answer to the question. "My queen if I may...." Imade requested the permission to speak and she is granted by the queen. "There is only one person who has the book of shadows in their hands and that person is the Old witch who has isolated herself from us." Anabelle looked confused for a moment, she had never believed the witch had isolated herself.

revealing a distant island that had never been there before. At the center of that island stood... another wooden desk. Another empty chair. And resting upon the desk... a sealed black book. No title. No symbol. Only one silver lock. The gray-coated man's smile faded. "That book..." "...contains the only story no one has ever been allowed to read." He stepped aside from the lighthouse entrance. "The choice is yours now, Adrian." "Walk away..." "...or discover why even the First Author feared turning its first page."

"Uh-huh. There will come a time when you'll need to write reports and letters as expected of a Luna," Carldo informed, beaming at her. Isolde pursed her lips, listening to him as he spoke. They moved deeper into the large library, her eyes bouncing over the leather-bound books and scrolls on the floor-to-ceiling shelves. There were workers there, arranging books and cleaning the shelves and the floor. They all gave her scorching sidelong glances, but Isolde had really grown a thick skin for those hateful glances.

I read until my eyes burned and my head ached. Nothing. Not one single record of an alpha being marked from the inside out. Not by a mate. Not by anyone. My frustration grew sharp and ugly. “That’s impossible,” I said aloud, voice echoing softly. “Something like this does not just happen without precedent.” I looked around more to see if there was something I was missing… I looked toward the inner safe and saw a book. The book did not sit with the others. It rested alone on a lower pedestal, darker than the rest, its cover smooth like stone but warm when I stepped closer. The title shimmered faintly, letters shifting until they settled.

He only realized that he was alone when he gazed at every corner of the room, but there was not a single soul inside the room except for him. He stood up, his legs shaking like that of an old man who sat for an hour or so, he felt his back aching in pain as he heard eerie whispers coming from all around the room. As he continued to glance around, his eyes noticed a stone podium standing alone at the center of the room. He walked closer to it and saw moss building up at its base and slowly climbing up its body, at the top rested a single book which had an incomprehensible title at the front.