Romantic History Books Novels & Stories

I walked over and opened it carefully. Each book had different designs on it; each was about the nature of dragons and the history of the Black Citadel. One book was labeled: History of the Dragon Houses. I smiled. This was exactly the kind of book I had been hoping to find. I carried it over to the small table near the window and sat down, tucking my feet beneath me.

She finished. “Spoken more eloquently than the queen, herself!” Boasted Lord Duncaster, as he strode into the room arms wide for his two most treasured gifts, which filled them with hugs and laughter. As he admired his beauties, a frown crossed his brow, “now what is this I hear my precious flower is not wanting to get ready for our guests?”

With careful fingers, she lifted the book and pulled it down, the heavy weight of history pressing against her hands. As she flipped through the pages, her heart quickened. Documents, letters, and meticulously detailed accounts sprawled across the pages. She recognized names—some familiar, some obscure—but the implications were staggering. The Romano family had always been meticulous, but the depth of the secrets she uncovered went far beyond what she had imagined.

His mouth formed an ‘O’ as he processed the information. “But it’s nothing like holding a book in your hand and getting lost in an adventure or romance novel.” I joked. “Oh, I have a few books if you want to pick some out and take them with you. For the journey.” “Really? That would be great!” I clapped my hands together in excitement about what new tales I could delve into. I ended up picking out three books. One was about a treasure hunt, the second was a collection of romance stories from around the realm based on Alpha’s finding their mates, and the third was based on historical figures and their relationships to their gods.

My shoulders sagged and I growled softly in mortification. "I know nothing about love, Arram. I've been alone for centuries. How does one woo someone," I questioned him curiously and he snapped his fingers and handed me a stack of books. He told me to read them. I looked at the spines for titles, Romeo and Juliet, Wuthering Heights and The Notebook.

She practically fell into the first available empty seat she could find, three rows from the front, dropping her satchel to the floor with a thud. The air in the room had changed. It was charged, anticipatory. All eyes were fixed on him as he placed his coffee and bag on the lectern at the front. He didn’t need to call for silence. His presence commanded it. Scarlett’s fingers trembled as she opened her notebook. She dared not to look up. She bit her lip, trying to steady her thoughts. She had survived. Dr. Clarke began to speak, his voice filling the hall. “Today our topic is ‘Forbidden Romance’.”

She glanced down, silently noting that the book in my hands was upside down. I blushed, having not noticed myself, and put the book on the table. I had borrowed it from Leila in an attempt to distract myself from thoughts of escaping. But truth be told, I wasn’t much interested in books, especially not this thick tome on the royal history of Hescor. The only books that had ever captured my interest were the forbidden romance stories I used to find under her nanny’s pillow, filled with dirty language and obscenity. My nanny thought she had hidden them well, but Evelyn had easily discovered them, devouring them in secret whenever I could.

"Cooking is lots of fun." "I was always a book boy, myself." He gives a dramatic bow, bouncing back up and sauntering into the room. He studies the shelves and many seating options. One book seems to grab his attention in the historical section. I've read a decent deal of that section for my studies but the one he grabs I'd only ever passed over. Deep blue but faded with lettering that may have once been metallic on the spine. "'History of Lycans, Vampires, and Magi, Volume One.' Seems a little small to cover the importance of all three species." "It is only volume one," I offer.

As if he were rediscovering me pulse by pulse. I sank into the kiss, my fingers digging into his shirt as if he might vanish if I let him go. The kiss grew deeper, but it wasn’t urgent. It was aching, filled with all the things we’d never said. With all the years of regret. With all the years of love that never went away. When we broke apart, we were still close, breathing each other in. “You still feel the same,” I whispered. “So do you,” he said. He traced his thumb along my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn’t even known was falling. The gentleness of the gesture was my undoing.

The lantern cast her shadow long and warped against the wall, stretching her thinner than she really was. There was something on the table. She hadn’t left it there. Ben felt the spike of fear the moment her eyes landed on it. A ribbon. It lay coiled neatly beside the lamp, pale blue, clean and new. Completely out of place in the modest, worn-down room. Her breath hitched as she reached for it, fingers hovering just above the fabric. She hadn’t owned anything like this. Her chest tightened. She picked it up, the silk cool and unfamiliar against her skin. It smelled faintly of something sharp and foreign, like leather and smoke.