Read The Apothecary Diaries Novel Novels & Stories

He wouldn’t have minded, but Amira had a rocking body that most men liked to look at. However, Rhys could not see any lustful gazes. They were all respectful, following him as he ventured into the apothecary. They were greeted by a vast, open atrium where sunlight streamed through a colossal glass dome adorned with stained-glass depictions of mythical creatures and alchemical symbols. The air was filled with the rich aroma of herbs, spices, and exotic botanicals, creating an intoxicating blend of scents that wafted through the space.

I searched through all his properties then I froze when my eyes landed on a fancy diary. My hands skimmed over the surface and I opened it to find out that this wasn't just a diary but like a medical book with Descriptions of flowers, plants, and herbs with their disadvantages, benefits, and poisonous properties. Fascinated by my discovery, I shoved the book in my trousers and continued to search for the bracelet. I gave up since I couldn't find the bracelet and I sneaked out of his room, back to my room to go through the book. Was Pete ever a medical doctor?

Dust motes spiraled through the shafts of late afternoon light, settling on rows of books that seemed to be holding their breath. Which meant something was happening elsewhere in the house. And that meant Autumn wasn’t telling her everything again. Jade set aside her notes and flipped back through the Veilwalker Apocrypha, an unofficial, unapproved collection of personal spells, protection rites, and "soul-binding risks" that the Council had once banned. She’d borrowed it from Dominic’s private archive without asking. She found the passage at the very back. Handwritten. Tucked between two pages with salt-burned corners:

Damon The air in the apothecary vaults always smelled faintly of steel and scorched earth—like too many failed potions had been burned away and never quite forgotten. The torches here were magical, flickering with cold blue fire that cast long shadows across the shelves stacked with sealed vials, ancient herbs, and dust-covered records bound in dragon-hide. It was quiet. That was part of the appeal. No whispers. No rumors. Just science and magic and the possibility of truth.

My steps are slow and reverent as I enter, drinking in every detail. A broad wooden table dominates the center, its surface clear except for a leather mat and a marble mortar set to the side. All around it, elegant black shelves stretch from floor to ceiling, each one filled to bursting with neat rows of labeled jars, vials, and apothecary bottles. Dried herbs hang in fragrant bundles from exposed beams. Shimmering apparatuses... still, flasks, retorts, alembics... are arranged meticulously beside tiny glass droppers and rows of tincture bottles.

He’d made that very clear when he left me drunk in bed, refusing my advances like it was the easiest thing in the world. Face still burning, I extracted my foot from his lap as casually as I could manage, muttering something about needing a different reference text. I slipped away behind the nearest shelf and exhaled. The herbal medicine section was three rows over, blissfully quiet. I took my time perusing the shelves, not really looking for anything in particular. Halfway down the aisle, something caught my eye. A textbook on herbal remedies, titled: Herbal Remedies of the Old World.

THE ALPHA'S KING (The Alpha's Diaries) By: Yonbade Benjamin CHAPTER 1: !!! STRANGE!!! "Where have you found her?" I asked my voice booming with great authority. "We found her lying outside the clan territory." Elias, one of my most trusted men said, informing me of the recent activities. "Take her to the clan infirmary now!" I ordered without any bit of hesitation, and he left with his men to carry out my others. I sighed, this wasn't what I had actually wanted to hear that early morning.

All life was sacred. I shook the thoughts away with a violent shake of my head. I couldn’t change the past, but I could control the future. I needed to do something right. I leaned forward, tapping the partition. “Taylor. The books.” He didn’t need to ask which ones. He’d been silent, a perfect, loyal shadow, but he indicated the cubby beneath my seat with a subtle gesture. I nodded and leaned down, pulling out three leatherbound novels—one black, one brown, one gold. The diaries of my ancestors, disguised as fiction. A perfect way to introduce our world to her. I ran my thumb over the embossed spines, a silent promise, just as Taylor slowed the car and we pulled up to her house.

Her smile looked like it hurt. The closet came next. Her clothes were still arranged by color, by season. Heels lined up like a fashion show. Then I saw a shoebox, taped shut with yellowing masking tape. I hurried to open it and inside were old prescriptions, anxiety meds sleep aids. Then painkillers. The kind doctors stop prescribing when things get too dark. And then... the diary. Black leather. Worn edges. Her name is engraved inside the cover like a brand. I hesitated, then flipped it open. I skipped the later entries. I already knew how the illness crept in.

I opened it, and my eyes widened as I saw a collection of diaries and pictures. The diaries were old, the pages yellowed with age. I began to read, and what I found shocked me. The diaries were old, the pages yellowed with age. I began to read, and what I found shocked me. The diaries belonged to Seth, and they told a story of Seth and Vee on the run from the warlocks.