Medieval Mysteries Books Novels & Stories

That wouldn’t be too much, right? Stepping forward, I run my hand along the first box I find and pull open the flaps, revealing the many books that are lying inside. "Hm," I can’t stop the curiosity that begins to flare as I examine the titles. Most are clearly spell books, but there is one in particular that draws my attention. "Artes Obscurae."

The air smelled like old paper and moth balls. “This is the restricted section,” she said, gesturing to the shelves. “Most of these books are centuries old, filled with knowledge that’s been forgotten—or maybe even deliberately hidden. If there’s any information about the spell blocking your wolf, it’ll be here.” We spent the next hour combing through the shelves, pulling down books with titles like Ancient Curses and Their Remedies and The Lost Art of Mating Rituals. More than once Gertrude fell into sneezing fits from the dust, her glasses falling off her face, and the faint scent of mildew was giving me a headache, but we didn’t stop searching.

That pride was my one hope. I looted the middle shelf of the west wall first. It seemed most untouched, most neglected. Nothing at first—ancient textbooks, account books, and fabricated stories only. And then I saw it. A thick book hidden behind a stack of herbal alchemy texts. The spine was worn, but the carved design into the leather glowed softly in the moonlight. Symbols. Old, witch-begotten.

I'm very much sure that he doesn't want me to call daisy and warn her. I ran my fingers over the spines of ancient books, their titles embossed in silver, gold, or faded lettering that time had almost devoured. To me these are answers. Answers to my questions which are very much needed right now. Answers about this place. About Lucien's strong hatred for the D'Arvenzi's. About his weird distaste for me, his mate. I pulled a heavy volume from the shelf. "Chronicles of House Malvore: Bloodlines and Betrayals."

“Yes, just like you, High Lord of the Mystics.” “So you’re saying these… these children’s tales,” Ryatt says with effort, his eyes narrowing with frustration as he waves down to the ancient books now littering the table, “aren’t tales at all?” “There’s always truth in fiction.” Ryatt’s nostrils flare in annoyance, but I step closer to the books, gently flipping a page. The text is in a language that predates Firestone. It’s looping scribbles–symbols I don’t recognize, and even Misty, who excels at this kind of thing, looks perplexed.

I say it appreciatively, and he only grunts in response before walking away. I go into the mystical creatures island, and I stare at the amount of books on the shelves. How the hell am I supposed to pick just one out of all of this? A particular hardcover catches my attention. It appears ancient, yet it’s lilac, exactly the same color as my eyes. I take it off the shelf and grin when I see its title. THE HISTORY OF OMEGAS: HOW THE DIVINE BEINGS CAME TO BE. Yes! This is it! This is the book!

It is barbaric. Silently, I wonder if our Goddess feels their pain. Feels the sins of her people each time they decide to take fate into their own hands. I force my eyes open, not ready to smell the scent of burning flesh. Goosebumps prickle my skin at what I was about to witness, and a cold chill crept down the length of my spine. Ignoring the nauseating feeling, I head in the direction of the Priest’s office. Dusty books line the built in bookcase along the far wall. Everything abandoned, just as the church had been. Pulling the sixth book, I hear the wall click to the left of me.

"They have, ever since she was born." Cassandra set the little serpent among the piles of gold coins. The creature sagged in defeat and exhaustion after lying before that terrible fire. "There it is," Vasilisa's voice came from behind a mountain of walnut-sized raw rubies. It wasn't hard to find the book. It was placed on a golden stand in between two golden Sirin statues. The grimoire turned out to be the largest book Cassandra had ever seen, with pages made of parchment illuminated with tracery, and it was open to a page thickly covered with elegant, intricate writing.

There where now books with titles such as The Witch Within You, Herbs and Pentagrams, Spells and the Sabbaths, True Magic in the World. Maddie had never noticed that there were so many books on that subject. She was shocked when Omem suddenly stood in front of her. ‘Are you coming, child? Lunch is ready.’ Maddie nodded and left the library.

Glowing magical threads emerged from her ear, twisted around themselves, and formed a small sphere. It was the memory of the dream, and another memory about Zane. The stranger closed his hand around the memory and destroyed it. Lila’s body jerked for a moment, then went still.