Novel & Cerita Taste Like War Book

Micha and I exchanged looks—half shocked, half thrilled. I picked the book carefully, and we both sat in the chairs facing the table. The book felt warm, almost alive. As soon as our eyes landed on the words, the letters began to form sentences like the book could hear our thoughts. It felt like the book wasn't just telling a story. It was speaking… directly to us. --- "Dearest gentle reader, welcome. This book has been waiting for you. Now we continue the journey of how the war between realms truly began."

Taking a sip of my whiskey, I felt the familiar burn as it slid down my throat, praying to whatever deity would listen that it'd numb the pounding headache beginning to overwhelm all my other senses. “Fuck me,” I mumbled under my breath as I opened the book titled, ‘History of the Great War.’ It was the usual stuff, talking about the first days of humans discovering the supernatural world was real, the attacks within our governments and armies, and the billions who had died. God, it had been a cluster fuck, a well-planned cluster fuck that none of us had seen coming. The war had been going on for a little over seventy years by the time I was born, just in time for me to participate in the la

The smile was still on his lips, making him look extremely gentle and handsome, but the words coming out of his mouth sent shivers down all four people's spines. "You know... humans kind of taste like pork. The taste varies though. You have to take into consideration the gender, age, the part of the body you are going to eat... The method of cooking could also change the way humans taste." The terrifying words that were irrelevant to what was going on at the moment, were said in such a calm voice and the still present smile on his lips while lovely looking at the small kitten in his arms, scared the three boys shitless. Even Kim forgot all about how handsome Jake looked at the moment. Her le

As they entered, the elves started talking among themselves, laughter could be heard, and that piqued the warriors' curiosity. "I don't know where they're taking us, but I'm starting to feel quite hot in this place," says Lyra. "Yeah, me too. They must be cooking dinner. I hope they offer us some because I'm very hungry. It would be a pretty considerate apology after what they did to me," says Marcus. One thing was for sure, something would be cooked. The fire would scorch its victim until they were reduced to ashes, and the elves would enjoy the process. That's how they really wanted to solve this problem! By ending their enemies with the strong flames of the lava.

Of setting innocent lives against one another all because two men in suits have a difference of opinion. But this book is interesting. It’s about the original angel war. A warm breeze flows through the room. Tugging my hair and tumbling the pages. The wind curls around me when it lands on a page of a warrior. And angel above the rest. An angel that resembles my mother. Although his is much more built and has a stone cold expression on his face, the features are so similar to hers. ‘Train. Fight. Battle. Win.’ The wind whispers into my ear like a lovers breath fanning my cheek. ‘He dragged you into this. Drag him out of it.’

They’re still swollen from his mouth, still taste like iron and something I don’t want to name. Gods. Out of all the ways I imagined that going, daggers drawn, threats hissed between clenched teeth, maybe even blood on our hands again, this was not one of them. Never did I think we’d end up pressed together like that, kissing each other like the world wasn’t burning down around us. Like we weren’t enemies standing on opposite sides of a war. For a second, I’d let myself forget. And worse, it had felt good to forget.

I also prayed earnestly that he didn’t forget me here. I spotted a bookshelf at the far end of the room and decided to look through it in hopes of finding something to read. The majority of the books were about werewolves and the pack’s history. There were also books about politics, war, and governance. I would have loved to pick up the book that contained information on all members of the Crescent Moon Pack, but I decided against it. It would seem like snooping. I finally settled on a book titled ‘The Art of War.’ Not that I was a fan of violence but I was curious to know why the author had referred to war as an art. It was such a controversial claim.

Suddenly he threw some fish from his mouth. "What kind of fish is this? This foods doesn't taste well. Who can eat this kind of food?" Asked Zeus while making faces. "But boss you used to eat these foods before you get married. Don't you remember?" Stephen asked as he was surprised with Zeus's reaction. "Nonsense." Said Zeus. "Boss I wonder why Mr. Vin Walker didn't send your lunch like everyday? Did you do something to annoy him?" Stephen asked. "Why will I annoy him? He is the annoying one. He didn't send foods so what I am not dying to eat his food." Said Zeus.

And when I do this, when I run my tongue through her folds, when she bears down on me, spreading her thighs even as she whimpers with the onslaught of pleasure, I don’t want to kill her. At least not yet. Because her taste… I think it’s the reason lesser men go to war. They could live on it the rest of their lives, her musky sweetness bottled and sold to the masses. The more I taste, the more I want, and I know that ending her life is the only thing that will prevent me from locking her in a dungeon to take her pleasure for my own.

The specific lightness of a weight removed. What arrived instead was the ash taste. Coating my tongue before I had fully processed what I was reading, the specific flavor of something that should have been sweet and was not, that should have been a beginning and felt instead like a different kind of ending. Liberation should taste like honey and wild berries. Why does it coat my tongue like ash?