Raven's Book Shoppe Used & Rare Novels & Stories

We had never owned any gadgets left for our phones and mine too was bought off the savings I earned from the bookstore. ''I begged my neighbor's son. I told him I would work extra.'' I hit my palm against my forehead. ''Iris!'' ''What?'' she asked innocently. The bookstore was empty and Madam Grace had not yet arrived. We planned to turn up earlier than everyone and start our research. ''Let's begin.'' Iris opened the laptop and typed something in. It was all too confusing to me but she browsed through some websites effortlessly. ''The first company would be Blackwood.'' She smiled and I just nodded not knowing what to say or do.

Raven would always feel eyes looking at them, but she knows those eyes are always pointed on her friend beside her. Raven was always overshadowed by Celia and she never minded that. In fact, she is glad that Celia takes all attention from her since she never really liked attention. Sometimes, Raven would feel that she is just Celia’s shadow. No one wastes their time to talk to her so she doesn’t have much experience in having conversations with people. Raven swears that they don’t even know what her name was. She has always been Celia’s best friend to them. Raven halts and hides to a corner when she saw a group of omegas standing near the staircase holding feathery dusters as they dusted off

- I told him. He nodded and pulled several books out from one of the stacks and set them in front of me. I opened the top book and ran my fingers over the runes in the title. It was beautifully written as if each word was drawn with love and attention to detail. Now that I looked at it, it reminded me of a combination of Norse and Old English. Nerrian pulled his chair closer and pointed to the first word, speaking it in my mind than out loud in Draygonian. With his help, I repeated the word over and over again until I perfected it.

He informed me as he held it out for me to take. I delicately took it from him when I saw how old and fragile it looked, with the binding of it covered in dust. I stared at the cover which was a dark blue, and an engraved Golding band around the edge with a sketch of a black wolf in the middle. Just above the wolf it said, ‘The sacred wolves of the night’. “Are there any books on the other breeds of wolves?”. I asked him curiously. “No, just that one, and if you give it a read, you’ll soon find out why”.

Grand, with a vaulted ceiling arched high, painted with constellations and mythic beasts, towering shelves rising like walls, carved from dark oak and lined with books. “Here.” He pulls out an old book, its cover black and edged in gold. At the center gleams a golden wolf’s head, bared teeth frozen in a snarl. Behind it, a raven spreads its wings wide, poised as if descending from the sky. Grimm opens it. The pages are an old, yellowish color, but intact. “Most of the Raven Wolf King books here are written to sound like fantasy, as if he were just a fairy tale. This one’s the one you want. Depicts date‑to‑date events.”

Stopping at a house outside of town, tucked away in the woods, she knocks on the door and waits a moment before I see Finnian answer the door, ushering her in. My wolf growls as she disappears from our sight. My mind flashes with images of what I can only imagine is happening inside. I slink closer, not making a sound, as I plaster myself to the side of the house. I listen closely and am only partially relieved when I hear another woman’s voice. Lucy, I believe Raven just called her. All tension leaves when I hear Raven inquire about the books they find and she would like to look at them. The unwanted and intrusive thoughts from before fade away as I hear what they are doing, and it’s nothin

The isolation that had once been about survival was now about peace. Raven sat on the porch swing, a laptop balanced on her knees as she worked on the book that had become her passion project. The working title was "Justice Served Cold: A Story of Redemption and Revenge," though she was still debating whether to publish it under her real name or maintain the fiction of Raven Steele.

I grunted. After hours of research, I was about to give up and turn in for the night when something caught my eye. A small blue-black book peeped from the corner behind the other book on the shelf. It looked a little older than the other books. I slipped it out and opened the first page. The first three words I saw were “THE RAVEN WOLVES.” My wolf and I howled for joy because we had been searching for hours for this tiny book. I opened the next page and started reading through it.

Pieces of wolves being torn to shreds, bodies of what seem to be human as well as non-human and pieces of what used to be the door, all has been scattered all over the house. He sighs while looking at the mess that was his home a few hours ago. He needs to clean this mess up. Fortunately, he knows the perfect man for this job too. He hasn’t needed his services in a long time, now, it seems it’s time to reach out to him. He walks up the stairs and makes his way into his study. He sits behind his desk, and he lifts his personal computer and puts it aside, revealing the carving on the middle of the desk of a raven taking flight with its wings spread out. The detailed carving is done very beauti