Unlocked Books Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 33 ALPHA LINCOLN'S POV I and Sean walked into my office to sit down and get a good look at the book my father had given to us. Since Sean was here, I decided to read it out for both of us to hear at the same time, to save time. "THE SOULBOUND LOCKET", was the title of the book and when we opened it, there was a drawing of the Locket. It was ancient from the looks of things as expected and an ornate piece that was crafted with ethereal silver. To add it up the Locket was adorned with enchanting gemstones.

Sigh. As soon as Isabella left, I felt delighted seeing a lot of old books. They smell musty, but it doesn't quell my thirst for knowledge. I quickly grabbed the book in front of me and tried opening it. However, I realized I had no key to open the chained books. What the eff? Isabella didn't hand me the keys! How should I supposed to read all these books? "Are you kidding me?!!!" I frowned and stared at the books intently. I realized the books were sealed with a magic circle. Does this mean I have to break the seal to read these books?

A war already started when Lilith sent that first bloody threat letter to me and she was going to drown in it. Charlie was working on unlocking the hidden page of the Book of the Undead since we had it in our custody. It would’ve been faster if Silverclaw’s Zeta could’ve joined him and helped but no… Adrian wasn’t answering our fucking letters and it’s made me a bundle of edgy nerves.

Hi!!! Just wanted to pop in and say thank you for taking the time to read my work. This is the final book in my Unspoken Trilogy. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Book 1 - Unspoken Promises Book 2 - Unspoken Truths Book 3 - Unspoken Desires If you’re starting this novel without reading the previous books - you may get a little lost with all the characters and the fast paced events. ——————————- Chapter 1

It was a large hall and it was filled to the brim with books and paintings of different kinds. Chandeliers fit into the ceiling were the only sources of light in the whole room. I browsed the bookshelves, my eyes widening as I caught sight of a book about how to permanently trap a werewolf in their animal form. I’d barely put that one down before I noticed another that was about how to hunt and kill werewolves with abilities. “How come I’ve never heard about books like this?” I asked. “Are any of these even legal?” He chuckled lightly, “they’re called secrets for a reason Luna. And that’s why they are locked up in here.

"What is it you need, little lamb?" I swallowed a moan. "I need your help... again." There was silence on the other end. Not long—just enough to make my thighs press together, chasing friction I shouldn't have been chasing at work. "Are you alone?" he finally asked. I nodded before realizing he couldn't see me. "Yes. Locked the door. No one's coming in." "Good girl." His praise landed between my legs like heat. "Now tell me, where are your hands?"

Athena bowed her head. “Come on! People make mistakes.” “Yeah! I'm not people.” Athena said. “Some magic books were destroyed some months ago. But I have read a few things about it.” Clarke uttered and they listened. “Great, tell us the few things you know.” Athena urged. “The fourth key is used to unlock a box or something that had the Firestone. With the Firestone and magic. The unbinding would open up and set those trapped free.” Clarke said. “How do you know all this?” She asked being suspicious.

The university library was nearly empty at 9 PM on a Thursday, exactly how Mara preferred it. She'd claimed her usual spot in the back corner of the third floor, surrounded by towering shelves of forgotten literature that nobody bothered with anymore. Her psychology textbook lay open in front of her, but she'd read the same paragraph three times without absorbing a single word. The quiet was hypnotic. Just the distant hum of the heating system and the occasional whisper of pages turning somewhere far below. Then she heard footsteps.

When I turned it over, I noticed something strange. There was no title. No markings. Just a small, black padlock fixed to the side, sealing it shut. A locked book. That was unusual. Very unusual. My curiosity sharpened. I walked back to the desk and sat down again, setting the red book in front of me. The lamp’s light reflected off its surface, making it gleam faintly. The padlock looked old—ancient, even—but strong. The metal was dark and cool to the touch. “What are you hiding?” I murmured, tracing a finger along the lock.

Changing my volume to a whisper, “Not exactly.” “Okay. What are you not telling me?” “Fine,” I say, finally giving in. “We write letters. He's in prison.” I tell her about how I found him on social media and how I started writing and how he has been writing back. She tells me she doesnt think it's a good idea, but that she's got my back and I can finally breathe now that I don't feel like I have this lingering secret hanging over my head. That's one thing I have always loved about Amanda. She is non-judgemental and I can tell her anything.