The Neverending Story Leather Bound Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

It is my escape. The signs stretch around the block, and inside are tiers of shelves so high they touch the rafters. It smells of aged parchment and earth. I stroll the aisles, flipping through tales of fated mates and forbidden bonds. I settle on a story about a powerful leader and his bonded—it feels ironic. I take it to the stone counter. The elder scans the binding with a wink. "A classic." "I bet I know how it ends," I say. "I bet you don't," she replies.

For someone with an empathy problem, you're making a lot of sense. "Mmm… I take your point.... personal but not too expensive...." I drop the lid of the laptop on Richard Burton and Scheherazade. ***** Later, scouring eBay, I find what I'm looking for. Second-hand, but beautifully produced and illustrated; a collector's edition, slightly dog-eared but not enough to spoil a gorgeous binding and a minor work of art. And before I wrap it, I take time to read some of the tales inside.... Fuck me.... and I thought these were stories for children....

“It’s not.” There was a beat. Then another. When she didn’t continue, I scowled. “What are you not telling me?” Nora bit the inside of her cheek, like she was measuring how much she could get away with sharing with me. Then she dug around in her satchel before pulling out an old, leather-bound book. The binding was worn and cracking, and the cover was faded with the crest of House Aurelian. She opened it carefully and turned the pages with a brittle whisper before pausing.

"He always has an excuse." "He doesn't know I'm only seven diary pages away from leaving him." "I got my period today, and the cramps were so bad I couldn't get out of bed. Dexter came home and brought me some painkillers without me asking." "He said it was the same kind he'd gotten for Brianna last time. She said they worked great, so they'd probably help me too." "I said thanks, but no thanks." "One page left. Then I'm done." The last page had only two lines.

Covered in thick layers of dust is a brown leather book. Ever so carefully, I pull it out and wipe the dust off with my hand. It is hard to see the lettering, but I see the familiar “W.” With everything I had, I inhale and hold my breath before blowing across the beautiful leather material sitting in the palm of my tiny hands. “The World of the Unknown. I found you.”

And that is a story that will last forever. END OF BOOK

“Hey… about what you saw earlier.” She jumped, clutching the book to her chest. “I—I didn’t see anything. I swear. I won’t tell anyone.” I smiled softly and stepped even closer, backing her gently against the shelves. “Relax. Professor Harlan and I… we have an understanding. But I saw how you looked at us. You didn’t run away because you were scared. You ran because it turned you on, didn’t it?” Her cheeks burned brighter. She shook her head quickly. “No… that’s not… I’m not—”

Camille marked her place in her book with her bookmark and sat it aside as she stood up. Scanning the books, she found the one she wanted. Bending down, she grabbed the bottom shelf and pulled it out. The next few shelves moved out also creating stairs. Climbing up she grabbed the black leather bound book and then climbed back down. A nudge from her bare foot had the shelves sliding back into place. Camille returned to her spot on the couch and handed over the book. Nessie looked at the book before opening it and seeing her mother’s great-grandmother’s name.

“You think you can outwit death? That thing bound to her isn’t human anymore.” I leaned back in my chair, grinning slightly. “Neither am I.” He turned away with a curse, mumbling something about fools and blood bills. But he didn’t stop me. He never did. That was his mistake. Later that night, when the camp was quiet, I returned to the book. Its pages were made of skinfold, stretched, mumbling as I turned them. The ink shimmered like dried blood. Each line pulsed softly, alive with illegal power.

Silence filled the Eternal Sanctuary. Every Guardian stood motionless, their eyes fixed on the ancient altar nestled within the heart of the Tree Beyond the Sky. The weathered book rested on a pedestal of living silverwood. Its cover was unlike anything they had ever seen; it wasn't leather or cloth, but looked as though it had been woven from moonlight itself. Silver roots wrapped gently around its edges, pulsing with a heartbeat that felt older than time. Aiden took an unconscious step forward, and the book responded as a faint silver glow spread across its cover.