Leather Bound Game Of Thrones Book Set Novels & Stories

"Since you're going to marry me, what's mine is yours. Besides, this is just a green moonstone pendant," Gideon said. I had no choice but to accept the pendant when I saw that he had no intention of taking it back. … Gideon and I were practically glued at the hip for the next few days. Either I strolled the streets with him, or he took me for horseback riding and archery. Our time together was fulfilling and lively.

The mirror would let him know when Zedekiel recieves the other half. He continued to search the library and it didn’t take long for him to locate it. A heavy, ancient tome bound in black leather, its cover etched with a single ominous sigil carved with red ink. The book itself gave off a sort of ominous energy. Cordin hesitated, dread pooling in his stomach.

A book sealed by blood, only to be opened by the heir who had both fire and forgiveness. “You must go alone,” the priest said. “Only one may enter the Vault.” Jian stepped forward. “She’s not going without me.” Chaewon touched his hand. “This is mine.” He held her gaze and nodded once. The door hissed open. Inside, the vault pulsed like a heartbeat. And there it was, on a pedestal of scorched stone…a book bound in dark leather, etched with fire-glyphs that moved like liquid under her gaze. As she stepped forward, her hand brushed the surface—and the book opened on its own.

The book cover was made of thick leather with parchment pages tightly bound together with twine. With trembling hands, Anna opened the cover and began reading the first page, and the next, and the next. She was astonished to see the text was word-for-word the exact same as the manuscript her publishing company was about to release in a few days, plus several thousand years in the future.

She ran her fingers along the spines, the gold lettering cool against her skin. Drawn in by the sheer volume, she hesitantly pulled a book from the shelf, a slim volume bound in dark blue leather. The title was etched in silver: The Royal Grimoire of Sacred Oaths. She opened it, her eyes skimming the ornate calligraphy, the intricate diagrams filled with arcane symbols.

Karl nodded his head as he followed me around the room, looking at his old stuff. Next, i turned to the small bookshelf beside his bed. I traced my fingers across the spine of the book, reading their titles as i do. Most of the books are copies of Harry Potter and Lord of the rings. He also has four books of Game Of Thrones. "Didn't take you for a bookworm." I commented as i pulled out the first book in the Game of Thrones series. Karl placed his right hand on my hip as he looked at the book in my hands.

Gabriel (POV) After throwing money down on the table I ran out to follow Alana. As soon as I got outside, she was gone. I began walking and began to use the bond to feel for her. Only I felt nothing. I know I should be feeling something unless something has happened to her. At this point, I was at a loss, but I cannot give up. This bond has proven to me I was right all along. Alana is my one true mate, and I will not lose her. I felt bad to have kept the truth from her that what we have is a dragon bond that happens between mates. If we were on Drakkon the bond is the last part of binding us in unity as forever mates.

How didn't she see it before? She examined it. Its worn leather cover showed the test of time, revealing faint traces of intricate inscriptions that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly glow. For some reason, Thalia's heartbeat sped up in excitement. She traced the inscriptions on the book with her fingers. They were etched in silver and gold, and they formed a mesmerizing tapestry of arcane symbols.

She tore the box open. Inside this box were a dozen books. Most looked the same—typical bindings, mostly classics. But one book stood out immediately. It didn’t look anything like the others. It was thick, overstuffed and weathered, with leather binding. It looked as if it had been through a war. And it looked ancient.

Blood issued from the slit of his skin, and it hovered in the air. “Do you, your majesty, give the throne to your heir, your son?” The priest approached the king. “Yes,” he said, almost instantly after the priest’s statement. The king’s wrist also suffered the same fate, and his blood stretched in the air with Vladimir’s. The priest stood in the center of the hovering blood, whispering incantations. After a while, the blood glided toward each other until it combined, forming a liquidize ball that was gleaming horrifyingly with the brightness of the sun. It pressed and knot itself, forming and deforming at each second that passed, until with a pop, the blood transformed into a tangible object