Jonathan Harker's Journal Novels & Stories

He should go to the edge of the pack and see if the family was still there, but even if they had packed up and gone, there would be perhaps some direction where they might have gone or there should be something about the girl. He folded the map he had seen up and put it into his bag with the paper. When he got out of the records room he felt just a little bit better about things. He was getting closer now; he knew he could feel it. When he returned to his study, he sat behind his desk and stared at the papers strewn across it. His mind was in chaos. He thought about his mother in the healers’ house, and about the girl who might be her only hope of recovery. He thought about the family that h

“This day blows.” “Best get used to it, kitty-cat. There are a lot more days like this one ahead,” Kahn says. “The storm is always worst before the calm. Remind yourself of that every so often.” The vampire looks up and his eyes glaze over. He’s mind linking with someone. When his eyes clear, they’re troubled and filled with concern. “Johnathan took off into the wilderness.” “Who- How- What?” “Oberon has eyes on him, but he can’t follow where Johnathan’s going.”

Whiskey. I was awake before the sun, and had already ransacked through the rest of the huts still standing. I found a few interesting items, some jewellery, silverware, nothing worth taking with me though. I decided to go back and search the Alpha’s house more thoroughly. The study or office space proved to be worth wild. I found another journal on a bookshelf in there. This one only dated back three generations, the first entry being date marked as 12th October 1935. He wrote about his desire to have the chosen daughter come back to them. Which confirmed my original theory, this pack have had firsthand contact with the Moon Goddess. I’m getting closer. I took this journal, and the other old

He turned to face Rhea who had been staring at him all along. “Shall we?” he smiled. They started unpacking the books from the shelves and dropping them on the floor and they looked through them one by one “How are we supposed to know which is the journal that we are looking for?” Xavier frowned, turning to face her. “Can you recognize it if you see it?” “Hopefully,” Rhea shrugged, her eyes still fixed on him. “Since he uses it regularly, it should be among the top books here don’t you think?” “If he uses it regularly,” Xavier paused for a moment. “It is definitely not on any of these shelves.” Xavier looked around the room quickly. “The journal is hidden somewhere else. Quick, look for anyt

"Do you have anything else with her in it? Notes, letters, anything from that period that might explain the connection?" Jonah returned to the duffel bag, pulling out folder after folder, spreading their contents across the small table near the window. Elena and Rowan sorted through them carefully, and within minutes, a pattern began to emerge — newspaper clippings about unexplained animal attacks going back decades, hand-drawn maps marking locations across three states, and, buried near the bottom of one folder, a single handwritten letter.

Henry was exhausted but knew his job wasn't done yet. Walking towards the defeated vampire, Henry looked at the spot where the journal had been. He felt a sinking feeling in his heart when he realized it was gone. "Oh, no." Who had dared to come steal this journal from his possession? Who?! Whoever did come, had succeeded in their plan. Henry returned to the chaos outside, his face showing both worry and determination. He told them what had happened, and everyone listened closely. The stolen journal wasn't just a bunch of pages—it could decide their fate and the outcome of the upcoming battle.

Would it explain why when Bloodmoon arrived to investigate, there weren’t any bodies or signs that Demonclaw was ever there? We agreed to wait until the others arrived before seeing Daniel. I don’t think either of us, especially Jonathan, is in the right frame of mind to see how, anyway. We spent the morning with Kurt and Isis, being given a tour of the castle and around Mount Adams. Jonathan, of course, already knows the mountain city and all its maze-like streets like the back of his hand. He established the network of security that is currently used here. But for me, this is my first visit. It was a nice distraction while it lasted. Despite knowing it was coming, there was no dodging Andr

Who knew I'd find a page on her as quickly as I opened Hunter Salem's diary of the unknown. And truly it was just a name. It turns out she scared the shit out of Salem himself because the only thing he wrote was her name in seven different languages, over and over again. Chills ran down my spine cooling off the heat Magnus was trying to spread in-between my thighs. A low snarl from behind me made me hold my breath. My heart slammed in my chest. Something was behind me. I turned my screen light off trying to pretend like I didn't know werewolves could see in the dark. But then, my phone chimed.

Henry**** The journal felt heavy in my hands, its worn leather cover cracked with age, the Dark Moon Alpha's insignia etched faintly on the surface. My heart raced as I opened it, the musty scent of time wafting from the yellowed pages. Each word I read seemed to strip away another layer of the illusion I had built around Xavier’s father—the man I thought had been a savior to me from the Rogues. The first entries were mundane, detailing pack alliances, hunting strategies, and seasonal struggles. But then, the tone shifted. The writing became more erratic, the ink smudged as if the writer's hand had trembled.

"Unless you count a stash of condoms." "That’s suspicious," Aria shot back. "Why would he have those when he said he doesn’t do werewolves?" "Now you’re just grasping at straws," I told her. I pushed the papers aside and picked up a weathered, leather-bound journal. "Fine, maybe he’s not some evil mastermind," Aria grumbled, leaning her head back against the wall to stare at the ceiling. I didn't answer. I flipped the journal open, my fingers freezing as my eyes landed on the first page. I scanned the handwriting, then the detailed, unsettling drawings. I flipped the pages faster and faster, the blood draining from my face.