Mortal Instruments Book 1 Pdf Novels & Stories

Oscar asked with a voice that hinted of reverence. “Dracula is the first to be made vampire from man,” Rowan explained. “He is not an original sent here from a different dimension so long ago.” “Do you know who that would be?” the underling asked with genuine curiosity. “To my knowledge, only one remains. His name is Darius,” Rowan informed him. Then, with a mixture of scoff and chuckle, he said, “One original vampire and one original lycan. Was this Goethe’s plan all along?”

Axel signaled him to come nearer and sit in front of him. “What’s your name and rank?” “I-I’m Sky... and I’m a Psi,” he meekly muttered, pushing his glasses up. Axel understandingly nodded. A Psi, just like Liam. “Good evening to you too, Sky. What do you need?” “W-Well, uh, I just finished reading a book and I-I thought I’d share it with you... Alpha.” Sky gave him the book with shaking hands. He looked down on the cover and read the title: The Anthem of Lycanthropy.

I was about to cross a shallow stream when I heard it—a low growl. Not from a human. From something else. I froze mid-step, eyes scanning the trees. Silence. Then another growl louder now, closer. I turned to run, but I didn’t know where to go. My foot slipped into the stream, and suddenly— I felt claws sink into my leg, dragging me back. I screamed. The forest didn’t answer. I yelled again, kicking wildly, Then something struck me hard on the head. Everything went dark.

The title shimmered faintly, letters shifting until they settled. Gem of Life. The name made my wolf still. Completely still. I reached out without thinking. The moment my fingers touched the cover, the entire book lit up, a soft pulse of light spreading through the room like a heartbeat. “Okay,” I whispered. “That’s new.” I tried to open it. Nothing. The cover did not even budge. Annoyed, I pushed power into my hands, letting my alpha energy surge. The room reacted but the book did not. It stayed sealed, calm, almost amused.

The few days had passed at a slow paste. She wasn't sure how she felt about becoming the number one target of so many werewolves. From her guardians, she knew more or less how their underworld operated. Alliances, betrayals, hidden truths, forbidden lies, and so on happened as a daily occurrence. She also wondered what ensued to Milene's body, where was it, and if he had even bothered to bury her.

She felt the delicious, exquisite, salty taste, as she plunged her fangs deep into the boy’s throat, drinking like she never had before. Yes. Now forever could be theirs.

I carried the book away and got into my room. I sat on the bed and flipped the first page over. What I read shocked me. HOW TO KILL THE ALPHA OF A LYCAN PACK!

In anger and rage, his eyes turned completely red and he disappeared from everyone's sight with the speed of light. "Have you found that thing for which you came here?" Moroi Ace Denzell stood behind Ms. Anastasia and said in a low voice, "It's very rude. Don't steal like this when the family is not in the house. Very bad manners." Hearing his voice, Ms. Anastasia got scared, and the book fell from her hands. "Hey, you are faster than I thought," he picked up the book that fell on the ground and read the name of the book in a loud voice. "Exorcism: Eldritch Werewolves by Witch Rosaline."

She felt as if she were outside of herself, looking down, and she became more and more confused. She read. And read. And read. Finally, it hit her like a lightning bolt: this book, it was hers. Her journal. The journal of a teenage girl. A story of coming of age. Of going back in time. Of falling in love with a man named Caleb. Of having a daughter named Scarlet. Of becoming a vampire. She wondered if she were losing her mind. Was this some sort of practical joke? Some sort of fantasy she’d had as a young girl? What was it doing here? How did her grandmother have it? And why was she only drawn to open it now, at this time?

I hiss. Apparently, you can't trust the word of someone you met in an underground werewolf bar. The entrance to Dyad Marketplace should be here, right past the— Something glimmers in the bricks on the other side of the fountain. Something bright and shiny. Striding across the courtyard, I approach the bit of metal stuck in the wall. A grin breaks across my face. "Perfect." Placing my fingers on the thin strip of metal—something that would appear completely innocuous and meaningless to any basic person walking by—I speak the incantation. "Aperta obidier."