The Odyssey Cover Novels & Stories

But his face is concealed with a deep ashes clothing that covered his entire face except for his two eyes, a scar appearing to be fading fast along his left eye. There was something about those eyes. About the dark shades of the eyes as they watched me intensely. This man is tall and well built, his body clad in black warrior outfits. His hair is white with a few strands looking rusty and grey. There's a band wrapped around his forehead, a particular craving on it. My eyes widened at the realization of who he was, as I recognized him. Kael StarSeeker. In one swift move, he had dropped off the branch and was standing tall in front of me, a few feet away.

I didn't know if he would see me all the way up from the little hill the tree was currently perched on but I waved nonetheless. I was successful in my attempt to get his attention when Carson gave a little shake of his head before starting towards me. Even though the only light came from the meticulously placed bulbs stuck in fancy lanterns a few feet away, it didn't stop the splendor that was Carson Miller from hitching my breath. He looked esculent in a black tux with a matching black bow tie. His lustrous dark hair had been gelled back but one errant strand had stubbornly stuck out over his grey eyes which were at the moment almost completely blackened by something I couldn't describe.

she said, handing it to Sally. Sally found it hard to mask her disappointment. “Oh,” was all she could say looking at the battered green cover. It had an old woodcut on the front, showing a hare by a riverside, looking up at a smiling moon. The title, printed in crude block letters, was Highways, Havens and Highlands by James Hendry.

Odessa was elated as she scanned the contents of the book, the ancient diagrams and foreign language. She sat down cross-legged on the dusty floor and began reading. The more she read, it felt like the words were coming to life, transporting her mind into ancient times. She felt compelled to read, to continue flipping through the pages. Odessa's eyes widened as shock registered on her face. The back cover of the book depicted a striking image of a wolf, its fur glowing with an otherworldly light. In the background, a starry sky shimmered with a full moon. As she turned the page, Odessa felt a chill run down her spine, and a sense of wonder filled her.

The cover really surprised me because it was only one golden embedded word written on it and that scared the heavens out of me. The cover spelled out, 'DANGER'.

Without looking to Owen for confirmation, I say, “We do. Please, explain.” She opens her bag and removes a few tattered paperbacks. The spines are unreadable, they’ve been cracked in so many places. One is missing a cover. All of them have a forest of neon tabs jutting out from their sides. I hear Hannah’s audible gasp of delight and admiration. I’m surprised she doesn’t ask for the brand, style, and inventory number of the tabs. “Our pack is so obsessed with the story of our origins, that we ignore the story of our ending.” She opens one of the books and it lays flat, pages perilously close to falling out. There’s a woodcut illustration of Fenrir devouring Odin.

“Sir!” All eyes are on him as he walks into the station, all the officers salute him to pay respect. A senior officer; he’s wearing a black leather jacket, holding a helmet in his right hand, and he looks like in his 40s. When he removes his black shade, Aminah realizes it is the father of Osman, whom she saw last Friday. “What’s happening here?”

Alexander saluted, smirking. Alpha? Ozymandius gave him a hard glare and Alexander quickly got of the seat and vanished, but not before passing me a wink. I heard the back door open and Alexander layed down in the back seat. Ozymandius sat in the driver seat and started the car. I noticed how the sun shined brightly on him as if it was impressed by his beauty. He was wearing a black shirt, which tightly hugged his muscles. His posture was composed like always and he didn't wear any glasses. The sun was shining deep in his eyes, giving all its attention to him but he was not at all affected.

The grand Oden estate was unusually quiet that morning, the kind of stillness that seemed to whisper warnings through the ornate halls. Jackson Oden sat in his study, the thick scent of sandalwood mixing with the crisp rustle of paper. His desk was littered with open folders—legal documents, DNA reports, hospital files. But most pressing of all, a draft titled “Last Will and Testament.” He adjusted his glasses and stared at the document that had taken him months to consider and hours to dictate. There were too many uncertainties—questions about Luke’s true parentage still unanswered, Stacy’s sudden return, and the unrelenting whispers of betrayal threading through the family.

I ask as I carefully lift the cover. “No. All I was told was to give it to you. I think it’s about mythology. Or maybe it’s that one Greek novel. The famous one with Homer and the dog that remembered him years later.” “The Odyssey.” “Yeah, that one. I read it in school, though I don’t remember it being that long.” She takes another drink of coffee. “I thought maybe you were Greek or something.” “Nope. I’ve never even been to Greece.” “That’s weird then.” She shrugs, finishes her coffee, and uses the bathroom before she takes off. “See ya later,” she says.