Novel & Cerita The Apothecary Diaries Web Novel

Garrick muttered. Rhys raised his crossbow. "Trap." I stared at the small black shape in the snow. "I’ll get it." I opened the door just a crack and used a long carbon-fiber pole to drag the package inside. Rhys kept his aim trained on the outside the entire time. Back in the control room, I opened the waterproof bag. Inside it was a letter and a vacuum-sealed pack. The handwriting was Delilah's. "Declan, my dear ex, you’re harder to kill than a cockroach…"

I came hard, moaning her name like a broken whore, my body shaking and my tits jiggling wildly. Even after two orgasms I could not stop. I kept fucking myself and thinking about tomorrow, about what new pain and humiliation my young intern would give me in this very apartment or back at the office. I was completely addicted already. .

Neryss shook her head. “Not entirely.” I frowned. “What do you mean?” She pointed towards the bottom of the parchment. “There is another signature.” Under Caedmon’s signature was an unknown symbol which I had never seen before. Neryss whispered. “I asked an old servant about it.” “What did they say?” “It was from a royal apothecary of the past.” I was further confused. “Why would there be an apothecary here?” Neryss appeared terrified. “Because that person disappeared many years ago after being accused of concocting a poison which could mimic Maevra’s disease symptoms.”

The village of Briar Hollow sat quietly between rolling green hills and ancient forests. It was small enough that everyone knew one another, yet large enough for merchants to pass through on their journeys between kingdoms. At the edge of the village stood a modest stone-and-wood cottage with a small shop attached to its front. A wooden sign hung above the entrance. Willow & Thorn Apothecary Inside, shelves overflowed with bundles of dried herbs, glass jars filled with colorful petals, medicinal roots, beeswax candles, and fragrant teas.

A U T H O R Bernadette let out a weary sigh as she dropped her bag onto the forest floor, the worn leather hitting the ground with a soft thud. With a subtle flick of her wrist, she unveiled her hidden stash of ingredients—bundles of dried herbs, vials of shimmering liquids, and strange roots wrapped in cloth—placing them carefully beside the large iron pot where water bubbled violently, sending up plumes of steam. Nearby, Severus unceremoniously dumped another stack of ancient spellbooks onto the wooden table, the impact echoing through the hollow silence of the abandoned library.

He spoke with quiet conviction, then turned to take his leave, but not before casting a fleeting glance at Ragaleon. The Apothecarium smelled sharply of herbs and smoke, a pungent, earthy scent that clung to every corner. Shelves lined the walls, sagging slightly under the weight of glass bottles and jars, each filled with liquids of every imaginable hue—murky greys, deep ambers, and translucent greens that seemed to glow faintly in the candlelight. In the center of the room, a large cauldron simmered over a bed of smoldering charcoal, bubbles rising and bursting in the thick, dark herbal mixture. Wisps of steam curled upward, carrying the bitter aroma of roots, dried leaves, and crushed bar

the welp demanded. "Ah, so you do know what this is," I said. "Now, as much as I would like to show here everything this book contains, we are not here to speak of the transaction history. No... What you want to know is details about this package delivered to you. From a shop called the 'Europhia Apothecary'." "I made no purchase to any apothecary, you fraudulent mutt!" the welp shouted. I rolled my eyes at him, surprised with how high his arrogance was. How fragile his pride turned out to be. "No one ever said you made the purchase. Unless if you mean to tell me you suddenly live on your own here."

David's snoring in the bed beside me, oblivious to what had happened. His arm slung over the pillow where my head should be. But I'm here, in the dim glow of my phone screen, scribbling this out in my diary, because if I don't, it'll eat me alive. Today wasn't just a slip; it was a dive, headfirst into something I've been circling for months. Or years, if I'm honest. ***** At Zephyra Art Gallery, I didn't just let it happen. I started it. Me. Poppy. The good wife, the one who packs David's lunch with snacks, fruit and love notes. What the hell is wrong with me?

He deserves it for not bringing me any breakfast. My stomach growls as I keep exploring my new room. There are books all over the place. I pull out A Healer’s Encyclopedia, A Collection of Diseases and Ailments, and A Compendium of Poisons from the shelves. One dusty book stands out to me. Experiments: Book One is scrawled in nearly unreadable handwriting on the thick spine. I flip it open to a random page. Wolves Healing Times is written in messy letters at the top of the parchment.

But relaxation wasn't what I had in mind. I stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, running my fingers along the spines of the books until I found what I was looking for. The worn leather-bound volume felt heavy in my hands as I carried it over to the coffee table and opened it to the marked page. The intricate illustrations of whips, chains, and other BDSM paraphernalia made my pulse quicken with anticipation.