The Ritual Free Book Novels & Stories

But the look in his eyes… It seemed so sincere. I took a deep breath, ignoring the burning feeling of a warning in my stomach. This situation may be incredibly unusual, and I may not know enough of what was at play here, but… I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. “Okay,” I told Christopher, looking at him with determination. “Okay, I’ll do it. Help me perform the ritual.” Christopher’s face broke out into a smile, and he nodded enthusiastically. Setting the book on the ground, he reached into the opened wooden house and pulled out some large, powdery, white sticks that looked sort of like chalk and handed them to me. I took them, and my hands turned white from the powder.

“But all it means is that we’re actually onto something. It’s already been done. We can do this again.” “It’s not that. You seem really unprepared for this. This book talks about all sorts of pitfalls that can happen.” “Books can’t actually talk,” Michael interrupted, smirking. “Don’t be an asshole. You know what I mean. It states that months of spiritual and physical purification is needed, along with various sigils and magic squares, and very precise ritual presentation.” “And yet we did it without any of that crap.” “It seems incredibly dangerous. Apparently without the correct wards it leaves a body open to spiritual possession.”

“There’s a ritual that could stabilize the bond between you and Rigel.” “That’s great, isn’t it?” I said, though her tone suggested otherwise. “It’s not simple,” she replied, flipping open the book to reveal a page covered in intricate runes. “The ritual demands a sacrifice—either your freedom, binding you completely to Rigel, or his life force, which could weaken him permanently, maybe even kill him.” The air seemed to grow colder as her words settled over me. “There’s no other way?” I asked, my voice trembling. She shook her head. “This bond wasn’t meant to exist, Daniel. It’s unnatural. Dangerous. It’s already starting to consume both of you.”

Those memories made up the best time of her life. Without turning around, she continued her explanation, "No one can use the book of Mageia except you. But even without the book, you began conducting the ritual with just a page. And thanks to you, you will no longer be needed for the ritual. You already showed me all the spells that I needed to use. You know, I could burn the book if I wished to." "Y…y…" Lila took a step back in shock.

Wolves moved through the courtyards below us, laughing and talking, completely unaware that my entire world felt like it was collapsing again. “What do I need to do?” I asked quietly. Rhea exhaled softly like she had been waiting for me to ask. “There’s a ritual.” I looked at her immediately again “A ritual?” “A Lunae ritual,” she explained carefully. “It’s old and it’s dangerous, but it’ll help” That sounded horrifying already. “It’s meant to stabilize awakening magic during the Blood Moon. Without it, the power inside you will keep reacting to your emotions until eventually…” She stopped herself.

My fingers lightly skimmed along the spines of the books until I finally found the section I needed. I pulled out a large, dusty tome that looked like it could have been dated a century back. I carefully carried it back over to one of the tables and began searching through it. Blood rituals were not only risky but also insanely picky when it came to the one who would be orchestrating it. Not everyone had the ability to perform said ritual. Those in high positions or with natural power had an easier time carrying out the practice. My eyes gingerly studied all the important markings and memorized the steps.

But before it vanished completely, I heard him whisper one last thing. The ritual won’t free you. It will bind you to whichever heart you choose. The vision broke. I stumbled back, breathing hard, the fire inside me raging. When I returned to camp, Edward was awake, pacing. He stopped when he saw me. “Where were you?” “In the ruins,” I said quietly. “I saw him.” His body went rigid. “What did he say?” I met his eyes. “He said if we do the ritual, it won’t free me. It’ll bind me permanently—to whoever I choose.”

Cold like a tomb that had been sealed for centuries. In the center, on a stone table, lay a book. It was old, leather-bound, its pages yellowed and brittle. The symbols on the cover matched the symbols on the Kingslayer, on the rings, on the dagger from the chest. They pulsed faintly, as if the book was still alive. Lysander opened it. His honey eyes scanned the pages, moving faster and faster. His face grew pale. A ritual, he said. To unmake the shadow. Not bind it. Not transfer it. Unmake it. Permanently.

No words were needed from him; his touch conveyed everything—protection, devotion, and a hunger that matched my own. The moon’s pull grew stronger, igniting the sacred heat that always seemed to flow between us. They guided me down through winding corridors to the hidden sacred grove, where the ancient stone circle glowed faintly under the lunar light, as if welcoming our presence. One by one, our ceremonial robes slipped away like discarded doubts, leaving us bare to the elements, the moon, and each other. The ritual to fully seal my place within the veil and their lives began with their deep voices chanting in the old tongue, the words vibrating through my bones and awakening the power tha