The Book Power Novels & Stories

Both were really awkward at each other at first but when they found out that both were reading the same book, they eventually got a comfortable to talk at each other. “So, you also read that book-” “Yeah, I got into it after a friend of mine recommended it to me.” “Isn’t it a great book.” “Yeah, I got hooked on it after reading the first chapter.” “bla-bla-bla” Both continued to talked to each other and enjoyed their conversation. “I was feeling an awkward atmosphere growing between our table so I was gonna try to start a conversation but when you brought out your book, I was just surprised to see a person reading it.” The girl said.

Patrick said, "She's the worst. A crazy woman. A nasty witch!" By the time I reached the last message, I was trembling so hard that I didn't even notice my finger had tapped the screen and accidentally sent a symbol into their chat. As soon as Patrick realized their secret was exposed, he flew into rage and pointed at me. He shouted, "You had no right to read my messages! Who gave you permission? I'm removing you from the home network!" Patrick truly was Nicholas' pup. Even the way he yelled at me sounded just like his father.

“Besides, I don't have the book with me. And even if I did, I don't think I want to give it to him.” “And why's that?” the words seemed to drag themselves from her throat. “Why would you choose not to give it to him?” “You have no idea what that book contains.” I said, shaking my head as if I'd witnessed its power. “You don't want to give it to anyone. Most especially, to someone like Eric. He's already powerful. With that book by his side, you can never tell what he can do.” “So?” she arched a brow. “I don't understand; what do you mean?” I crinkled my face at the words.

“That’s it. That’s the answer.” She moved forward, her heart pounding in her chest. As her fingers brushed the cover of the book, a surge of power shot through her—like a jolt of electricity, coursing through her veins. It was as if the magic itself recognized her, as if it was calling out to her. Olivia opened the book. And there, in the first pages, she found the key to everything.

Mine answered without permission, rising sharp and hot against it. “You talk like strength is only blood and secrets,” I said. “Like power is just who you can step on and still stand tall. But true power isn’t blind inheritance.” Elias leaned in, lips curling. “Then tell me, boy. What even is true power?” I held his stare. Didn’t blink. “True power,” I said quietly, “is when the thing that should scare you most doesn’t anymore. Not because you got stronger. Because you stopped caring if you survive it.”

Why does she always look so at peace around sad stories? “Oh—right,” I stammered when I realized she was waiting for an answer. “It’s, uh, The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg.” She nodded thoughtfully. “Do you want us to find it first?” I shook my head. “Why?” she pressed, but I only shrugged. Rolling her eyes, she placed another hardcover on my growing pile. “Let’s go check if they have a cart.” My eyes widened. “How many are you planning to buy?”

I got up, walked to the table, and laid my hand on the cover. The warmth spread through my palm, up my arm, into my chest, flooding my body with a gentle heat that felt like coming home. I felt the mark on my shoulder flare in response, matching the rhythm of the book's glow. It wasn't painful anymore. It was familiar. Comforting. Like greeting an old friend after years apart. I opened the book. The words were there, waiting for me. "Your power is not something you learn. It's something you remember."

That made me feel worse, though, because not everyone was here safe. On the way home I asked " so it seems like so far you have the ability to see the future Then maybe some kind of power to be in people's heads or feel and see everything they see. Do you know about any others yet?" I shrug and say," Not that I know of, but we can see if there's a way to make them show their selfs. I have that book my Dad gave me. Maybe it says something about how to make powers come out if they exist." As soon as we eat and drink a lot because, well, she's pregnant. She needs to take care of herself, especially after being hurt. Then we head to our room to read the book and search for any advice. After a lo

“I can feel the power from this thing. It’s ancient.” I nodded. “Yes.” I held out my hands and she stepped closer. “It calls to us. Did you know that?” Toya whispered as she slid the book into my waiting arms. “What do you mean?” “The book.” Wendy nodded. “When we held it, it whispered to us. The power it could give us. Almost as if it was testing our loyalties.” Toya nodded. “It’s powerful. I don’t think you should show anyone other than us.” Toya bit her lip. “Not even the others.”

SIRELLA’S POV I opened my mouth, then closed it. I didn’t even know what to say. The Matron rose from her seat, moving with slow, deliberate grace. "Tell me, child, do you know what power truly is?" I clenched my jaw. "Strength?." She smiled. "Wrong." My hands curled into fists. "Power," she continued, "is not about brute strength. It is about influence. Control. Power is walking into a room and having every eye turn to you, not because you demand it, but because they cannot help it."