The Ritual Book Review Novels & Stories

Dmitri shed off his ritual gear, looped his arm around my waist and led me out into the fray. This was the first time Nathan had directed the ceremony, instead of Dmitri since the officiating couple were supposed to be bonded, or soon to be bonded mates. It wasn’t just a welcome into manhood for them, it was a fertility rite. Once upon a time, we’d be the ones to kick off an orgy, and afterwards they all would have run around goosing and kissing the women of the pack throughout the day to share their vitality and bless them with fertility. Another tradition I was glad had died out through the ages. Although, I did receive a few pinches on my ass, until Dmitri wrapped his arms around me more

"Haidan and Antoine filled me in on what the both of you witnessed last night. After doing a little research, I found something that could fit the ritual." "Just get on with it." Ashton snapped in impatience. "Don’t beat around the bush." "Could you stop?" I growled, shooting Ashton a glare. "The man is speaking." Rolling his eyes, Ashton let out an indignant hmph but remained quiet while lifting a hand and motioning for Asher to continue. "As I was saying." Asher said slowly, ripping his irritated gaze away from Ashton. "I found a similar ritual in one of my spell books."

He didn’t reply right away but enclosed me in his arms. “Can we now start all over again?” he asked, smiling through his tears. I nodded and smiled. And at that moment, I also sent a quick prayer for Zed that he could also move on and start over. THE END Author's note: Thank you so much for reading Book 1 and 2. Book 3 will follow and it will be a standalone story of Zed. We also want him to be happy, right? And if you like the story, please reward this author with a review. I wish to know your thoughts on the characters' journey. See you on their next journey.

I did the same thing and dissipated the fire. I, once again, used magic to unshelve every book off the shelves in his room. Silver spined books and glitter went flying everywhere in a whirlwind of fury as if the very air itself had erupted in a frenzy of chaos. Raphael used magic to part the whirlwind sending a silver glitter and book mess flying into all the adjacent walls. He snapped and produced a double-bladed staff. “Oh, playing dirty, are we?” I scoffed, as I snapped and produced a double set of samurai swords.

Maybe, when our pack gets powerful, I would be able to get my revenge for Ethan. “I feel like you left the most important part I this. Who is going to be my ritual mate?” I ask curiously, handing them the papers. The Sages look at each other again and their spokesperson clears his throat. He goes on to spout some nonsense about ritual mates being assigned. That doesn’t make sense but I didn’t want to question the Sages. They did say I was going to meet him soon. Hopefully, it turns out to be a good pack.

“The Hollow makes the rules.” Later that night, Autumn sat in the ritual room, the air thick with an unsettling stillness, illuminated only by the flickering candles that cast shaky shadows on the walls. The ancient Book lay open before her, whispering of forbidden knowledge, as she placed the coin delicately at the center of a page, its presence radiating an unnatural energy.

And the more I examined it, the more I realized it wasn’t just any book. It was about black magic. Dark magic. Rituals. Spells. Power. My stomach twisted. I knew exactly what I was looking at. My father had dabbled in things far beyond the realm of ordinary magic. The book wasn’t just some old text. It was a manual. A guide for control. For domination. For ultimate power.

Did everything the ritual required. Nothing happened between them. The elders called it a failure. Sent the woman home. Quietly moved on. Dane spent the following year going back to the original texts himself. The old language versions. The real ones, not the fragments the elders had worked from. And he found what they had missed. The ritual does not fail. That is not what the old texts say is possible. What they say is that the ritual reaches for whatever bond exists and pulls it forward. If nothing happened between him and the woman in that room it meant one thing only.

He wore his usual black waistcoat, sleeves rolled up, but his expression was darker, more intense. In his hands rested a thick, ancient grimoire bound in deep crimson leather. Gold runes pulsed faintly on the cover. “The Breeding Grimoire,” he said, voice low and resonant. “A medieval fertility text. It demands a full ritual enactment to neutralize its power. You will read the incantations aloud while I perform the rites. The book requires multiple offerings — deep, thorough breeding — until the magic is sated. Do not stop reading, no matter how full or overwhelmed you become.”

They were records that spoke of ancient wolf shamans and forgotten rituals. Back then she had merely been finding her roots, but now she was desperate. And desperate people often became dangerous. Her fingers brushed against the book's cover and the room immediately felt colder. For a brief moment, even Delilah hesitated. She was ambitious. Ruthless and Manipulative, but she wasn't foolish. Power always came with a price. Still… She opened the book and the pages shifted beneath her touch. Ancient symbols about dark rituals, binding spells and mind enchantments covered every page.