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The book was uploaded on this same Goodnovel app, and is titled, “The Mate He Never Expected: His Crazy Obsession” Search for the book and start a great reading journey. I assure you, you are going to love the book also. <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>.

Completely unguarded. And that, more than anything else, unsettled him. Because he could feel it. In his chest. That deadly spark again. He scanned the cover, thumb following the title, then back at her. "Why this one?" "It's a book about sadness," she told him quietly. "But not the kind that cries out. The kind that settles into the space between us." Some dark, wordless flicker showed behind his eyes. He nodded once, palming the book into his coat pocket as if it was evidence in a case he wasn't ready to break yet.

I need to take time. I remember the small room I entered last time. I slowly opened the door and turned on the lampshade. The books on the table were still scattered. I tried to look and read each one of them. These are all interesting books. Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer, The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and a lot more. I tried to find something that might help me, but I found nothing.

It is Divergent, insurgent, and Allegiant first edition series, the notebook, The fault in our stars, and Shakespeare books. "I didn't know what kind of books you like, so I just picked the ones I think you might love"a voice startled me, and I placed my hand over my chest. "You scared me, " "Sorry," there is a dark grey wardrobe just behind the door. And a matt on the floor, a white round table at the corner. "It's fine really, I think I will read them. It's been a while since I have read an addictive book, maybe I will find one in these books. Who knows"I shrug, and sit on the bed.

Removing some books from the top, my heart leaped for joy when I saw a book that I actually liked. "Thank you," I said with a smile as I pulled it out and admired the cover. "I'll continue to make use of them all." "What book is that?" Benjamin asked as he leaned in to look at the cover. "It's a fiction novel about romance in the midst of a plague," I answered and before I knew it, I was blabbering away.

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 was like searching for a needle in a haystack, and with every passing minute, the urgency only grew. But then, as I was about to give up for the night, something caught my eye—a small, weathered book tucked away on the bottom shelf. Its cover was faded, the title barely legible, but there was something about it that drew me in. I carefully pulled it from the shelf, the pages brittle and yellowed with age. The title read, *The Lost Chronicles: A History of the Ancient Magics*. My heart raced as I opened the book, scanning the pages for anything that might be relevant. It wasn’t long before I found a section that made my breath catch in my throat.

She can only differentiate them through their sizes and colors so she has to diligently flip through each book’s first few pages to find out what the content of the story were even about. Proserpina goes through each book on the shelf slowly and mechanically, flips through the pages to try and find… at least something that will catch her interest–there was a story about the origin of soul mates, the concept of rebirth, the rise and fall of Elder Gods, Trojan War–only to no avail. It seems that most of the books Athena has been more on about history, serious matters than what is to be considered anything appropriate for a light reading.

Instead, they just started flipping through the pages of the book, looking for which store to choose. While I was standing there next to them, praying they didn’t choose more than a few of the stories. “Poison, this one seems interesting.” The outgoing twin stated about to touch the page. I muttered a few curses under my breath that they ‌either didn’t hear or ignored. Although Poison wasn’t the darkest story in my book; it wasn’t the lightest either. “Shouldn’t we read the book description first?” the other twin asked “Of course not! Who even reads book descriptions?” was the first one’s response.

“Since you’re back, are you going to pick the next book?” I blinked. “Me?” “Of course,” she said, smiling. “You’ve been gone. You deserve the honor.” Everyone nodded expectantly. I looked down at the stack of books on the table, my fingers brushing across their covers. My hand paused on a novel about love, identity and societal expectations. This book will give them a glimpse of what I passed through during my absence. I smiled softly. “How about this one?” Brent groaned. “Oh no, not another depressing tragedy. Can’t we read something with a hopeful romance?”