Manacled Book Novels & Stories

He tilts his head with concern when I look back at him. “Just promise me.” I wipe the tears from my face. “Please.” “Okay, I promise won’t get mad.” He shakes his head, not understanding why he would need to promise that. I take the dragon scale gloves from Pan and carefully unwrap the leather strings holding the bag closed. I reach inside and grab the massive book by the spine. I wait a moment to prepare myself before I slide it out onto the crystal stand. I take a sharp breath when it comes into view. It’s just as beautiful as I remember. The cursed black leather cover has a sheen of iridescent purple when it hits the light. Instead of a leather binding on the edge, I sowed it with golden

Ashina sat inside the circle at the center of the floor, chained by both wrists, with her throat pulsing like a trapped insect. The cell made her look smaller, but not weaker. I know the difference now. Bardolph stood outside the door as I had ordered, silent and bleeding through his bandage, while Conri entered with me. Tala came too, carrying an old book wrapped in red cloth, though she refused to explain what it was until Ashina saw it. The moment Ashina’s eyes touched the book, her body went still enough to answer one question before we asked it. “You know this,” I said, watching her face carefully.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the shadows stretch further into the hallway. They slid beneath doors, climbed along the ceilings, and slipped around corners like silent smoke. Through them, I saw him. Maxwell stood in the center of the corridor, turning slowly as he searched the empty prison. His face was twisted with fury. Behind him walked several robed men, their expressions tense and uncertain. And in Maxwell’s hands… The book. The same manuscript I had seen earlier in the ritual chamber. The one meant to resurrect the dead. His fingers gripped it tightly, the ancient pages rustling as he moved.

’ I was now married to not just any man, but a Made man, a dangerously handsome man, a soon-to-be Bratva. It felt all too wrong, but I had to live with it. There was nothing I could do about it. “Thank you.” I returned her smile with the same enthusiasm. “Lead her to my room.” Vincenzo ordered and my head whipped in his direction. A Made man never cracks a joke and Vincenzo wouldn’t be the first. To ease the tension warming up in the form of a pool in my stomach, I had counted his earlier words as a joke.

Just crests on the clothing with different colors to mark different years. Black and white for first years, white and silver for second years and gold for the years. An iridescent crest, the original one, is given to graduates inside a while bound leather book. My parents let me see the book once a long time ago. It sat behind a locked display glass case in a secret vault. I was in awe. It looked regal. The snake with wings coiled and a shield and sword interested my child Luke mind back then. I watch different years pass by, with different expressions. Some cheerful, others hollow, some pained, some distant, like they are barely here. Some move in a group like us while others are alone and

The lock clicks. Marcus moves to his desk without looking at me. He picks something up. Holds it without turning around. "The wolves tonight weren't random," he says. "I know. Kael told me." "Kael told you they were hunting you." He turns now. In his hands is a book. Old. Leather-bound. The kind that looks like it hasn't been opened in decades. "He doesn't know why." "Do you?"

Marcus stood there, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the rug. "I remembered you mentioned the library back at your old pack house," Marcus said, his voice low and gravelly. "Julian said it was a waste of space, but I figured you might be bored out of your mind staring at the walls." I didn't answer. I couldn't find my tongue. It felt like a lead weight in my mouth. My gaze drifted to the pile. In the middle of the stack was a small, weathered volume bound in dark teal leather. The edges were frayed, and the spine was cracked. It looked like a book that had been loved, not just stored.

She was mid-step when the trailing end of the delicate fabric caught on one of the shelf's carved brackets, jerking her backward with a soft sound of surprise and the musical clink of the golden chains that secured the covering. She twisted awkwardly, trying to reach behind her to free the caught material, but her arms were full of books, and there was nowhere to set them down without risking damage to the ancient texts by dropping them. Something he knew Ana could never bring herself to do. The little bookworm she was. Ana would rather injure herself than harm a book. Pendwick was already moving, stepping close with careful fingers to lift the tangled lace from the carved wood. "Allow me,"

Charlatans! The back room was large. He searched, until he found the book, he searched for. The book was massive, covered in a thick layer of dust. The cover was locked with a handle that was shaped like a figure with elongated arms, he forced the lock. Nothing happened, he wasn't losing hope. With one movement of his hand, he removed the layer of dust.

In the throes of nervousness, she nibbles on her lip and managed a timid, "Alright." Upon their eventual return to the comforts of home, Leo presented her with a tome of imposing proportions, entitled "A Compendium of the Supernaturals." The book's weight was almost a tangible representation of the vast knowledge it held, massive and weighty, and her hands throbs with discomfort as she accepted it.