Novel & Cerita Taking The Reins Book

It flowed toward us in advancing fronts, swallowing scattered manuscripts, lapping at the bases of stones, climbing, ready to reclaim everything we’d just wrestled away “Move!” Tamsin shouted, grabbing the nameless boy’s arm and yanking him away from a line of ink that had just split the ground at his feet. Corvin’s grip tightened around the lockbook. The thing pulsed once in his hands, casting a hard, white‑black light across his face. For a moment, I could see the strain etched there—jaw clenched, eyes too bright, blood dripping from his split knuckles onto the cover. Then he turned.

"The pain was real. The Hounds nearly killed us." "Calculated risk." I pulled away. I couldn't breathe. "They needed us to bond. They needed the 'Good Turn Bad' arc to complete itself so we’d have the stomach to run this empire. We didn't conquer the world, Caleb. We were promoted to the position of head jailers." "I don't believe it." Caleb’s eyes flashed gold. A snarl ripped through his throat. "Abigail tried to kill us in the boardroom!" "Did she?" I pointed at the ledger. "She handed you the buy-back code. She 'standardized' us. We’re doing exactly what they wanted. We’re running the world as a corporate pack. We’re the managers."

“Quinn!” Graham opened the door wide and crossed his arms. “Can you not do this!” He shouted. “My mate is acting weird. I need the book now.” Reid said. Quinn entered in her robe and she rolled her eyes then, she pulled out a thick book with a new cover and handed it to him. “Here, dummy.” Quinn rolled her eyes again. “I fixed it into a new cover. “Thanks.” He stood and skimmed on the book. “By the way, there should be some good news when both of you are fucking nonstop.”

I said, and Rick nodded as he walked to the center of the room and dropped into a chair. My fingers glide along the books as I read their titles. I pull one out, glance at the first few pages, and then slip it back into its place before continuing. “Hmmm,” I hummed as I squatted to see the books at the bottom. My fingers glide along the books, and my heart stops when I read one of the titles, “How to Reject a Mate and the Consequences that Follow.” Slowly, I pulled the book from its slot and flipped through a few pages.

Ren spoke. “It's a fifty-fifty chance. We have to unlock the book to access its powers. If we can unlock it, the soul eater would answer to us. The book has the power to discontinue its connection to its Master enabling us to eliminate it.” I explained further while Ren kept nodding like he understood it. I hope he did. “What do we need to unlock its powers?” Ron's voice was harsh. He was eager to end this all. The zeal to protect his pack had been awakened.

He bowed slightly and then took his leave. Micah felt cold shivers running through her veins. She looked down at the bangle, caressing it. Why didn't he take it along? She was rooted to the spot for a while before walking back to the bench; she sat on it, her thoughts in a whirlwind. After a while she gazes down at the book she had brought along to read. The title was boldly inscribed on the cover of the book… "How to become politically dominant."

The book arrives on a Tuesday. Dominic isn't home when it comes. I'm at the foundation and the package is left on the doorstep. When I come home, I see it sitting there and I know immediately what it is. I pick it up carefully like it might break. The book is bound in a simple navy cover. The title is clear: Accountability and Transformation: Building Systems That Work. The author name is Dominic Marcello. My husband's name on the cover of a book.

I turned my head, still suspended at my undignified angle, and found Varul beside me on his midnight horse, looking down at me with an expression that revealed nothing. It really was unfair, how I seemed to be the only one having flashbacks from last night. "I'm aware," I said, with enormous dignity, from my position of zero dignity. "Let go of the saddle. Take the reins,” he clipped with infinite patience. "I have the reins,” I answered stubbornly. "You have the reins and the saddle. Let go of the saddle." I looked at my hands. He was correct. I had acquired the reins at some point during the struggle but had not relinquished the saddle, so I was holding both, which explained several things

Line by line. Word by word. Her pulse roared in her ears. Transfer of control… Conditional inheritance… Executive override… Secondary heir… Her fingers tightened around the paper. Because there it was. Clear. Undeniable. If Amelia Reynolds fails to maintain control of the Reynolds estate… Authority transfers to designated successor… Daniel Reynolds. Her knees weakened. “No…” Her voice was barely audible. “This isn’t real.” Daniel’s voice was calm. “It is.” She shook her head violently. “No, Lawson never—”

THIS CONCLUDES BOOK ONE: DANCING WITH FATE. BOOK TWO WILL BE A STORY WITH THE POINT OF VIEW OF RYAN. BOOK TWO: FIGHTING FATE