Scythe Book Cover Novels & Stories

Axel signaled him to come nearer and sit in front of him. “What’s your name and rank?” “I-I’m Sky... and I’m a Psi,” he meekly muttered, pushing his glasses up. Axel understandingly nodded. A Psi, just like Liam. “Good evening to you too, Sky. What do you need?” “W-Well, uh, I just finished reading a book and I-I thought I’d share it with you... Alpha.” Sky gave him the book with shaking hands. He looked down on the cover and read the title: The Anthem of Lycanthropy.

I squinted my eyes and glared at her. Tentatively, she removed the paper cover of her book. Underneath was a far cry from the gently paper cover. The paper cover had a street with cherry blossoms blooming on each side. The title ‘Never Apart’ indicated a soft romance. The ‘real’ book cover, the one hidden under cherry blossoms was a half naked man, He had no shirt and showed tight muscles. all over his torso were tattoos His hand enclosed the throat of a blonde girl, she was dressed in a shirt probably his because of how large it is. Her head is thrown back in obvious pleasure and the title is ‘Choke me Harder.’ Definitely nothing a sophisticated young miss should read.

Its hunger throbbed - dark, pulsing, wanting out. No. The Duskbane Grimoires were clear: the Scythe was a weapon of eclipse. Summon it under night, invite the darkness to consume the wielder's soul. A sun-weapon. Tonight, I was on my own. A metallic clink erupted from behind the practice dummies. I didn't turn. Didn't break stride. I sent a Threadbare filament behind me like a spider's web. It brushed something cold, hard, moving fast. "Ten of you," I murmured, voice low, aristocratic silk. "And here I thought the Shadow Syndicate had some pride left."

Nyra’s POV I sat on the bed and placed Elaine’s book in front of me. For a moment I did nothing else. I just looked at it properly. In the library it had felt old and important. Here, on my bed, in this room, it felt stranger than that. More private. More dangerous. Like it did not want to be mistaken for a random old text preserved for curiosity’s sake. It was thick and heavy, yes, but now that I was alone with it I noticed more. The cover was not ordinary leather at all. Up close, the texture was wrong in a way that raised the hair on my arms. It had a faint pattern under the dark surface, not visible at first glance but there when the light caught it sideways. Not wolf hide. Not cow leath

I stood beside her, captivated by her unwavering resolve, feeling the tendrils of curiosity tightening their grip on my own consciousness. Time stretched, each passing moment amplifying the tension in the air. And then, as if guided by an invisible force, Lucy's hand halted, trembling in anticipation. Her fingertips trembled above a weathered tome, tucked away amidst its companions on a lower shelf. With cautious reverence, she grasped the aged book, her touch gentle yet purposeful. The cover, bearing the weight of time, whispered secrets in faded ink: "Moonlight's Veil: The Tragedy of the Lycan Lord." The words etched in the worn leather sent a shiver down my spine, a mixture of foreboding

It didn’t feel like mine to touch. And then—just as I was about to turn away—a spine caught the edge of my gaze. Not with color or glimmer, but with its silence. It was tucked almost too neatly between two broader tomes, their gilded edges crowding it as if to hide its presence. The binding was dark, a shade between bruised purple and coal, cracked with age, and unadorned save for a single phrase impressed in thin silver serif: “The Quiet Cull: A Forgotten History of Hybrid Extinction.”

Old, witch-begotten. My hands trembled as I pulled it free. It was heavier than I expected, and colder too—as if it had a life of its own. I placed it carefully on the reading table, brushing off heavy layers of grime with my sleeve. The cover was plain of title, bearing only a carved serpent entwined around a crescent moon. My heart skipped. This wasn't just a book. This was sacred. or demonic. I opened the first page. "Let the darkness be born in blood. Let the son of the accursed bloodline rise out of the ashes of the slain witches. His mate will bleed, and from her womb will come salvation… or destruction."

He absent mindedly ran his thumb over the spot as he looked down at the workers busy downstairs. From his position one storey up, he could see the courtyard down below, the canopy which had been placed over it as a decoration for the wedding that did not happen last night had long been removed and the bodies cleared away, all that was left in the courtyard was just the bloody mess which was being cleaned up by servants. Omar tried to imagine it not being so much different from washing off the blood in an abattoir but he knew it had been human beings that were killed last night and not animals, assassins or not, they were still humans. The place would stink for days amd he knew this was one e

No one would suspect you and they would usually talk and act recklessly in front of you. “The weapon,” It was a scythe. A retractable scythe that could tear heavy metals like paper and pierce through anything even the soul. Using it, they can open treasures long-buried and kill anyone like nobody's business. It's a precious little thing. And it's in the rightful and very capable hands. Me. •••

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why do you think like this?” Lewis looked offended. “Because you are Derek Stygian,” he said without missing a beat. Paulo carefully examined the package. It had no address, and no sender's name. It just had Derek Stygian written on it. Derek’s expression grew colder. “Open it.” Lewis nearly jumped. “What?” Derek looked at him. “I wasn’t talking to you.” Lewis sat back down quickly. Paulo hesitated briefly. Then carefully, he opened the box. The room grew silent as he opened it. Raine moved closer. Lewis remained far away.