Mary Book Novels & Stories

Another part was too curious. She slowly entered the open door. The interior was simple. A table of rough wood. A shelf full of glasses, dried herbs and carved dishes. A bed of braided mats. A small window through which green light fell. Everything was fine. Quiet. And there was something on the table that immediately caught her attention. A book. Old. Taken off. With a dark blue cover. Mara stepped closer. It looked bad at the place. Like something from their old world. Slowly, she took her fingers over it.

The book was older than anything Olivia had ever seen, its cover a deep shade of maroon, almost dark enough to be black, with intricate golden symbols etched into the surface. When her fingers brushed the pages, she felt the pulse of magic flow through her. It was as if the book itself recognized her touch—knew that she was the one meant to uncover its secrets.

He sank down into the chair while she perched on the arm like some sort of strange, exotic bird. Internally, I sighed. I really wanted to be alone with my books, but I also didn’t want to be rude to any members of the pack after they had been so welcoming. “Are you here to read?” I inquired, drawing on the years of manners that had been beaten into me at the Silver Crescent. Mary let out a high, girlish laugh. “Read? Goddess, no!” She shot Bryan a conspiratorial glance, not bothering to hide the mischief in her eyes. “We want your help.”

Marilyn’s POV The library smelled like dust and old pages, a scent I secretly enjoyed even though I never admitted that to Caroline. She was already stacking books in her arms, her blonde curls bouncing as she moved shelf by shelf. I laughed knowing she would never be able to finish reading all those books today. “Take a look at this one, are you sure you don’t want it?” She called out, waving a massive hardcover book titled “ lunar legends and lore” I raised an eyebrow. “ Come on Caroline, you know I don’t go for such.”

The air in the library was thick with the scent of old books and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Sadile Marconi, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders like a river of flames, sat at a secluded table, her green eyes darting between the pages of her textbook and the clock on the wall. The numbers seemed to mock her, ticking away the minutes until her next class, a class she was dangerously close to failing.

The moment Mara watched someone walk into the barrier and choose their own end. Lines about the monster’s hands shaking as he reached for her. When the ache got too tight in her chest, she printed the pages and carried them to the couch. “Reader intermission?” she said. Corvin took the stack, marking his place in his book with a finger. He read quickly when he wanted to. His eyes tracked the lines, brow furrowing and smoothing in shifts. At a line where Mara described the monster’s eyes as “red enough to burn, but not as bright as the guilt clawing his insides,” he huffed.

Mary looked around at the colorful flowers and neatly trimmed hedges. “Wow. It’s beautiful.” A thought suddenly crossed her mind. “Aren't Grandpa and Dad around?” Barbra smiled calmly. “No, they both went out. I am currently the only one in the mansion.” Mary nodded in understanding. “Aren’t you bored, though? I mean, you are the only one here in this huge mansion. Don’t you ever feel like leaving the house sometimes?” Barbra gave a small chuckle. “I do, my dear. But that was when I was younger.”

Mara said. The room went very quiet. Not outside quiet, inside quiet, the kind that happens when something in your chest stops moving for a second before it remembers how. "That's not a first name," I said. My voice came out steadier than I felt. "No. She never gave me a first name. Just Venn, like it was the only piece of herself she was willing to hand over." Mara reached into the pocket of her cardigan and produced a small book, worn soft at the corners, the kind of book that had been carried a long time. She opened it to a page near the middle and slid it across the table.

"Oh, you noticed. But it isn't something you should worry about, you know. Your dad just needs some time. He'll come around." It was something she was telling herself too. Something she wished would happen soon. "Okay, mommy." Maryam picked up her book. "What are you reading?" asked May, trying to start up a new conversation. She didn't see the book's title because half of the purple cover was peeled off. "Purple Hibiscus," Maryam replied excitedly. "Written by Chimamanda Adichie, my favorite author," she added. "Isn't that too much for you? Do you even understand a word?" May thoughtfully asked.

Julius and Star, still basking in the glow of their children's newfound happiness with Mary and Dean, decided it was time to introduce the couples to the rest of the coven in a more intimate setting. Mary, a powerful witch with a lineage that traced back to the ancient covens of Europe, had been a revered member of the coven for years. Her knowledge of spells and rituals was unmatched, and her wisdom and guidance were sought after by both young and old within the community. Despite her formidable magical abilities, Mary carried herself with a grace and humility that endeared her to all who knew her.