Rekindled Book Novels & Stories

She kneeled beside a locked iron chest, whispered a spell under her breath, and opened it. The air dropped ten degrees. Inside lay a thick, ancient book wrapped in dark leather that looked almost… alive. The Book of the Damned. Its surface pulsed faintly. Rhea swallowed. “That thing creeps me out.” “It should,” Violet said simply. She carried it with both hands and placed it on the oak table. As she flipped open the pages, black ink shimmered like oil. Kael stepped closer. Fenrak crossed his arms, expression changing from playful to serious.

Mara wouldn’t be likely to find me here, at least not right away, giving me a little time to read unbothered. I settled down, brushing the leaves and pine needles off the bench, then opened the book on my lap and continued to read where I had left off last night. The chapter on documented reincarnation accounts was dense and slow-going in places, and a lot of it still didn’t apply to my situation in any direct way. But I kept reading, skimming over the sections that seem irrelevant. I was about three quarters of the way through the chapter when I turned the page and found the heading: “The Lycan Princess and the Throne of Ashmoore.”

A cat blinked at me from a stack of poetry. “Looking for anything specific?” the old lady asked. “Something old,” I said. “Something rare. Italian. About rebirth. Survival.” She nodded, and twenty minutes later she brought out a first edition—“La Fenice: The Phoenix.” It was a story of pain, death, and rebirth. The tale of a girl who burned in the fire and rose stronger. The cover was worn leather, gold-pressed lettering. Inside, hand-stitched. I opened the last page and tucked in a pressed lily. Katarina favorite flower.

CHAPTER 144 Elias stood alone in the darkened chamber, the Eye of First Flame resting in his palms. The relic was ancient, a shimmering orb that seemed to pulse with heat, as though it held the embers of a lost fire inside. Its dark surface reflected his own image, but there was something more to it—something that called to him from deep within. He could feel it, feel the power swirling around him. The Ritual of Rekindling—once forbidden, lost to time—was within his reach.

💕 Other works: • The Pleasure Directive • Encore with the Devil • Bloodscript: Survival Game of the Reborn • Rejected Omega Princess: Meet My Overprotective Brothers • Killed and Reborn: My Alpha’s Obsession • His Luna Returns, So I Left with His Baby > Please add this book to your library and leave a review if you’re enjoying it 💖

When I suddenly woke up on the day we were submitting our college choices, I was shocked for maybe a few seconds. Then the feeling faded, and I calmed down. When I turned my head, I saw Horace Clark. His eyes were blazingly bright, almost frighteningly so. They burned with the wild joy of someone who had gotten something back after losing it, along with the certainty that he would never let it slip away again. He glanced at me once, his gaze sharp and hostile.

The longing for her was unbearable, and I realized that stepping into this room was like reopening a wound that had barely begun to heal. For a moment, I stayed there, crumpled and broken, unsure if I could bear the weight of her absence. But something compelled me to move. Slowly, with trembling legs, I forced myself to stand. My gaze fell on the bookshelf, and I approached it cautiously as if disturbing the stillness might erase what little connection I had left with her. The books were an eclectic mix, their subjects as varied and intriguing as she had been. Titles about supernatural beings, the mysteries of space, and one in particular—a book about an incubus—caught my eye.

I close my eyes and allow myself to fantasize. I can already picture myself rocking gently in the rocking chair on a breezy afternoon sipping fruit juice and getting sucked into the world of my newly acquired copy of Haruki Murakami's 1Q84 with Chet Baker's Almost Blue playing softly on the turntable in the background while butterflies happily suck nectar from the California poppy flowers outside. The sound of a dog barking from a distance drags me back to reality and I open my eyes. I take in the rest of my surroundings.

There is so much I want to say to him. “Lilah?” Charles calls, bringing me back to earth. “Yes?” “I asked you a question.” “Oh yes, you did.” I give him a brief smile. “If I had to choose a favorite book, I would have to say—” “The Hangmen series by Tillie Cole,” Beau says before I can. I turn to face him with my eyes wide and my mouth hanging open. I can’t believe he just said that. “How did you know?”