Spellbound By Sylvia Day Novels & Stories

Avery looks around quickly, seeing what we’ve done and nods. “Have you ever done this spell?” she asks me. “No,” I tell her. I know the spell, but I’ve never even seen it performed. “May I help you?” she asks me. “Yes, please.” “You know it has to be you. You are the one bonded to him, but that also means your sister and brother can help. It will boost the spell,” she says as she looks at the boiling salve. “I can help as well,” a man with a foreign accent says looking at me.

like something was brushing against my soul. I looked at Ryan. I felt unsure and awkward. He leaned closer and whispered, “It’s alright. She’s my friend. I told you about her.” “The psychic?” I whispered back. He nodded. “Her name is Melinda. She’s a seer.” Melinda opened her eyes suddenly. Her expression changed and concern filled her face. “Oh no,” she murmured. “This is not good.” My heart dropped. “What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” “There is a dark spell placed on you,” she said. “A strong one.”

The pack members exchanged glances, recognizing the urgency of addressing Elvie's condition. Morgana approached Elvie, her movements purposeful as she initiated a mystical incantation. "Elvie, daughter of the moon, let the veils that bind you be lifted. Return to the essence that defines you." The room became a canvas for the interplay of supernatural forces as Morgana's spell unfolded. A gentle energy enveloped Elvie, and the unnatural calmness that gripped her began to wane. The transformation, a delicate dance between magic and destiny, unfolded as Elvie's true self emerged from the shadows.

Strength wasn’t just about power; it was about trust, about connection—and right now, she needed both more than ever. Outside, the sky darkened further, and the wind carried with it whispers that seemed to echo from the depths below. The earth beneath the temple pulsed rhythmically, like a heart beating in a long-forgotten tomb. It was a presence that felt ancient and terrible, patient and inevitable. Selena closed her eyes and reached inward, feeling the Spiral’s pulse respond to hers—steady, unified, but laced with a warning. Whatever had been unleashed was not just a force of destruction; it was a reckoning, a force that sought not only to destroy but to remake. The Spiral within her was

Chapter 2: The Whispering Archives The Whispering Archives stretched endlessly around them, floating bookshelves drifting like lazy clouds while glowing tomes hummed softly with forgotten spells and ancient knowledge. The air was thick with the scent of aged parchment, ink, and faint ozone from active magic. Elyndor floated weightless in the center of a suspended platform, wrists and ankles bound by warm, pulsing silk ribbons that Lord Sylas had summoned with a lazy flick of his fingers. The ribbons held him spread open, body slightly arched, completely exposed under the soft blue light of the floating orbs.

Everything he did was to keep his child safe. I turned back to my grandma, and she nodded to the house. “Close your eyes. Focus on the spell. The words will come.” I nodded and faced the cabin. Shutting my eyes and turning my entire focus to the spell I was weaving. The statues that had sucked in every drop of Carl’s sacrifice stood as beacons, power overflowing from them. The spell, a net cast over the cabin, was strong, but I could feel the weak spots. The spell was left unfinished, and if left this way, the woven threads would weaken, shredding apart at those weak points.

" I had no idea of what I was looking for but something in me had a strong feeling I would find something useful. Without wasting time, I began the search. I moved quickly, scanning shelves for anything that could help. My fingers grazed across spines of leather-bound books, titles etched in gold and silver ink. Then, my eyes caught something that made me freeze. The Book of Shadows. I reached for it with trembling fingers, pulling it down and flipping through it in haste. Pages rustled in a blur until my eyes landed on a heading that made my breath catch. To Disarm the Bearer of the Pendant of Unity. I read every word beneath it, committing the spell and instructions to memory. This was it.

If there was even a sliver of a way back… My fingers dragged over one particularly ancient tome: bound in silver and wrapped in spell-locked chains. I whispered the unlocking spell, old enough that the air around me shimmered with pale blue glyphs. The book creaked open. “Chronos Binding,” I murmured. The title alone sent a chill down my spine. Inside were diagrams of realms overlapping each other like threads in a tapestry. Old Realm. Divine Plane. Mortal Realm. Abyssal Void.

The title was also written on the first page. Annabelle Hale;this is my book of shadows. Book of shadows. What did that mean? She began to flip through the pages and her mouth dropped open in awe. It was a book of spells. Magic spells, healing spells, invisible spells, spell of curses, teleporting spells, spells of the past, spells to break a curse... "So many spells and incantations",she said softly. "Yeah. That book belonged to the world greatest Sorceress",Caleb said. "What happened to her?",Layla asked.

Still miles from her. The trees loomed like blackened pillars, their trunks twisted as if something inside them had tried to break free and failed. Bark cracked in jagged lines, seeping sap the color of old wine. The canopy above had knitted itself so thick that the sky was nothing more than a smothered bruise. The forest didn’t move. It waited. “For the spell to collapse like that..” Sybil’s voice thinned. “Someone didn’t stop it. They shortened it. Cut the tether mid‑cast.”