The Lost Tomb Books Novels & Stories

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She walked straight into his living area, which had been quite tastefully - if a little ornately - turned into a cosy little library, complete with a large fireplace and wall-to-wall bookshelves. Haden gave her a questioning look as she went over to one of his bookshelves, giving him that same knowing smile as her fingers traced the tomes that filled the shelves, before they found a particular one, and tilted it outwards. Oddly, it clicked, then tilted itself back, just as a portion of the shelves slid inward, revealing a hidden hallway behind. "I.. what?!" Haden stammered, "Has this been here all along?! Where does it go? Why did no one tell me?!"

“I don't know. It was inches from me, burning its green eyes into mine and the next thing I knew...you were touching me.” He ran his hands through his hair with irritation. Pouting, I leaned my back against the bookcase with my arms pressed tightly against my chest. Out of nowhere, a book tumbled to the ground from the top shelf of the towering bookcase. Liam and I looked at each other intrigued. Bending down, I grabbed the weighted, brown book embossed with a gold triangular shape on the cover. The triangle had a latch, enclosing two lustrous-gold wedding bands; both engraved with flaming infinity patterns. Eyes widened, and Liam and I, were hypnotized by the shimmering beauty the rings hel

Ceres (staggering back): "Blood of the moon..." A round chamber lies beyond—bigger than any she expected. The walls ripple with a quiet heat. Strange veins of golden amber snake through the black stone like frozen lightning. At the center, half-sunk in a basin of soot and crystal ash, lies a tomb carved of obsidian, crusted in faded runes. Besides the tomb, a forgotten satchel lies partially buried in timeworn dust. She approaches, reaching down with tentative fingers. The Exiled Twin The hidden chamber beneath the palace centered around an obsidian tomb. A heavy silence hangs in the air, thick with secrets that burn.

LOLITA'S POV The gammas leave with formal bows and hollow reassurances. I close the door behind them, my fingers trembling against the polished wood. Their words echo in my ears — a coincidence, just a coincidence that Marcus and I were in Moonfall when the rogues attacked. No connection to our visit to Morena. No reason for suspicion. Lies. All of it. My broken arm throbs beneath its cast, like a reminder of the price we have paid. The price Marcus paid with his life.

“Lead the way. I’ll cover you.” I didn’t thank him. We entered the collapsed hall, rubble crunching under our feet. Torchlight flickered across scorched stone. Under a slab of stone etched with old runes, something pulsed faintly with magic. “There,” I whispered. Damien stepped beside me and lifted the slab with one hand, veins straining, jaw clenched. Beneath it lay a trunk—black, ancient, sealed with silver wolf-bone clasps. I brushed away the dust. The Book of Lost Bonds.

Because the Graveyard wasn’t just going to let us linger and admire our handiwork. The moment the librarian lost cohesion, the world remembered it had another job: containment. The small cracks in the ground we’d seen earlier split wider. Whole rows of headstones tilted, then crashed into the paper sea, sending up waves of pages. The ink, which had withdrawn a little under my earlier push, surged back with renewed hunger. It poured out from under toppled coffin‑books, boiling up through the ripped floor of paper in slick geysers. 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

Her fingers curled once against the surface before she pulled them back. The catacombs opened at the bottom. Shelf after shelf after shelf, disappearing into the dark beyond the reach of the light, the volumes packed tight. Some bound in leather so old it had gone almost black. Some wrapped in cloth. Some laid flat under glass. The ceiling was low and arched, the stone damp at the edges. The silence was absolute — not the silence of emptiness but of weight, of accumulated presence, of a place that had been holding its breath for a very long time.

A stranger's kindness brought a trace of warmth back to my dead, disappointed heart. Perhaps this was the reason I was brought back in time. This chance allowed me to know the truth of everything that happened, and it also made me realize that this world was not just full of malicious people. After bidding Mary farewell, I followed the address to the apartment. I did not expect the lights to be on when I walked in. A soft and gentle voice greeted me. "Are you Joseph? Hi, I'm Wendy. I was cleaning the place up for you. Otherwise, there's no way you can sleep here tonight."