Reveries Book Novels & Stories

I sucked it up quickly, and decided it was pointless to beat around the bush. "I was hoping that I would be able to read a book with information on Reavers. I don't know much about them, but if I may be one, I think I have a right to know more." I said, hoping he would know what book I meant, this being a dream and all. "You mean the book from the other day?" He questioned, as he snapped his fingers and produced a book with a silver spine. It was the exact book from my last dream. I longed to get my hands on it.

What could it hurt, after all? "I am a Reaver," I purred, my voice low and smooth. Roxy's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise dancing across her face. I was certain she had stumbled upon the chapters detailing my kind in the book she'd been reading. Three entire chapters were devoted to Reavers, and they were nestled near the beginning of the book. Given that she was now halfway through, I assumed she had already devoured those particular pages.

I could see Ian standing where he was from the rearview mirror, looking like a statue that had been abandoned by the world. That night, I had a nightmare. I dreamt of the day my sister passed away. I was kneeling by her stone-cold body while crying my heart out, with Ian and Lucy standing nearby and staring coldly at me. I jerked awake from the dream, drenched in cold sweat.

“It’s almost time, me, you and her, I’ll make everything into a paradise for just the three of us.” Giggling sinisterly as the grand picture formed the written word of ‘REVERSE’. The book that hungers for blood and soul, the perfect time to open the cursed world and set foot the reality that he longs, dear. The people involved and the thousand to be sacrificed, everything is all for the revival of 'him' as the philosopher’s stone is about to be made. “A few hours from now, a moment to the truth as everything will turn back and undo, a thousand souls and blood to be spilled and a holder’s doll to be manipulated. Everything is perfectly falling into the plan.”

The lengths that we would go for each other had been set in stone. I was sure now, that regardless of anything that could or would happen in the future, I would always have her by my side. The End The Reaver Chronicles: Book 1: Raziel (Complete) Book 2: Raphael (Complete) Book 3: Ramses (Complete) Book 4: Rowen (Complete) Book 5: The Keepers (Complete) Book 6: Rayne (Complete) Obsidian: (Spinoff based in the same universe)

A first edition of Meridian's Bestiary, one of only three known copies, lay in the fireplace, its charred edges still smoking faintly. I crouched beside a toppled shelf, running my thumb over the embossed title of a fallen book: On the Nature of Forgotten Gods. The sheer breadth of knowledge in this room made my chest tighten. Histories of dead civilizations. Treatises on magic even the scholars feared to practice. Accounts of creatures that should have stayed myth. And as I stood in the midst of the wreckage, breathing in the scent of ink and blood and broken things, I understood why someone would take her.

I could only hope that she would have settled in again by tonight, because otherwise I would be allowed to sleep on the couch one night again - and it was really uncomfortable. Sighing, I leaned back and opened the completely tattered book again, which I actually already knew by heart. But I wanted to repeat as much as possible today so that I could get off to a good start tomorrow. I ran my finger over the familiar table of contents. Foreword, evolution, instinct, social life, physiology, reproduction, ancestry, stem groups and subspecies. How many times had I made this movement with my finger? I couldn't count it anymore, but it was like a little ritual I had to go through before I could s

"It's a tribal language for vampire tribes. My father taught me a lot of tribal languages when I was a young wolf." I flip to the next page, and there's another writing. "Do you believe in rebirth? If not, you cannot access this book." I shake my head in denial and flip through the rest of the pages, only to find them blank. Perfect waste of time. I slide the book back onto the shelf and take a book on cyclones instead. "I'll settle for this tonight," I say, raising the book, but her gaze remains fixed on The Book of Reborns. After a moment, she peels her eyes off it, nods at me, and returns to her chair.

The cover of the third book was a silent declaration of victory. Where the previous ones had carried dark and uncertain tones, this one displayed a watercolor in golds and deep blues—colors that evoked sunrises over the ocean, promises kept, and horizons that had finally revealed themselves within reach. The title, engraved in handwritten letters like an intimate confession, was simple and revolutionary: “To Live.”

The thread cover pulsed just once and fell open. Inside were only two lines of Mira’s handwriting. If you reach the bloom and forget to listen, it will rewrite you. If you reach the bloom and remember silence, it will speak. Ari closed the book and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding for years. “She knew,” she whispered. Not just about the bloom. About Siran. About now. Kaima stood at the edge of the Marrow Verge path for the third night in a row.