Viridescent Book Novels & Stories

Violet shouted as she felt something ominous rise within her. She left them to do her bidding as she got out her crystal and tried to gaze into the ball. She only saw darkness and she almost yelled in frustration. She opened a tray that carried different poultices and began adding them to the mixture in Elise's hands. She collected the bowl and began chanting. The vulture began to shake and say Luna stone, Luna stone in a hoarse voice. Bianca backed away while Elise looked at the animal with interest. Violet suddenly had to stop mixing when her phone rang. “ It is your mate Elise and he is asking for you.” THE END BOOK 2 COMING SOON!!!

Once he is gone, Elthezar closes the door and turns to the book. “What is this?” he whispers. Flipping through the pages, he reads through some of the passages and frowns. “Honey…sprouts…” he scoffs. “This is all nonsense!” He skims through more lines which sound ridiculous to him. “Blood of man is purified when his inner self is calmed with the herbal essence of hyacinths. It soothes the-” Why is Eduard Visserion so interested in this? He wonders. If Mikhael Vadimovna wrote a book which was never published, then there must be some mystery behind it. What was that man hiding? “Let us uncover your secret, Eduard,” he mutters and starts to work on it.

The heat was overwhelming, pushing against our skin, but none of us were harmed. From the flames, three distinct lights emerged. The first was golden, like the sun’s rays wrapping around Cora, filling her with a warmth that radiated from her core. The second was a deep, earthy green, spiraling around Rose, grounding her in a way that felt like the earth itself was breathing through her. Ivy’s body, once lifeless, was now glowing with a brilliant silver glow.

A forest, older than the Northwood, twisted and scorched at the edges. Children ran barefoot between trees with silvered leaves, laughing, wild. A woman knelt at a stream, blood on her palms, her breath shaking. Above them all, the sky cracked—not with lightning, but with shadow. Not darkness. Absence. And from it, things poured. Things with no names. Things that fed on forgetting. The woman turned. Her eyes were the color of starlight over snow. Vira. Elise knew it—not from stories, not from scrolls.

The spears they wielded and which they careened and whirled, the blue fire tipped, capering strangely about their points, as suddenly were but prolongations of their own bodies, great ears cocked, twitching, taut and glistening were the places of wrist and shoulder, and with a wilfulness that set the gaspers gasping and the cheerers cheering they were reliving fights of long ago with a viciousness never before imagined. Next was the illusions, the very core to Veridian magic. A magician in crimson cloak, upon whose face wore an expression of calm force, lifted his hand. In a flash of dazzling light the pattern of a gigantic Veridian dragon opened above the crowd. Its translucent wings, shimm

Artemisia had briefly forgotten that that day wasn't normal, she's starting to realize, and think, that maybe she's not the one who's going crazy. The girl approached the shelves and Helga's voice danced again in her mind. "The navy blue cover book will tell you a story, I can't tell you which one, only the book is entitled to that." Artemisia didn't understand, but soon found the book near the second door. It was a heavy book, but not as thick as expected. It had a glow reminiscent of sunbeams touching the greenish water of a river or lake. It also had nymphs drawn on the cover and side of the leaves.

The skyline lit him like a shadowed god, bare chest streaked with fading bruises and secrets. Lydia turned to the book. The Obsidian Ledger. Bound in something too soft to be leather, smelling faintly of scorched earth and something older. There was no title, no emblem—just a single engraved mark: V. She opened the first page. No words. Just a photograph. A woman—Vivienne. Nude, handcuffed to a marble bedpost, head turned away. Her body was covered in bruises and diamond necklaces. Lydia’s breath hitched. She turned the page.

CHAPTER 33 The laughter from breakfast had faded like smoke in the wind. The parlor was dim, windows drawn, the ancient chandelier overhead casting dull amber light across the long table. Dorian set down a thick, worn book with a heavy thud. Dust rose from its cracked leather cover, and Lucian and Kai stood silently behind him as he opened it. Elias watched, his arms crossed, his fingers still tingling from the pan incident. “This is the Viritas Codex,” Dorian said. “Oldest surviving classification of all known bloodlines and species. Vampiric, demonic, angelic, shifter, fae, witch-kind, hybrids. It’s what we use to identify anomalies.”

AMIEN'S POV They walked through the greenhouse in silence, past rows of exotic plants and carefully controlled climate zones, until they reached the smaller, separate section where the Vitalis Radix grew. Damien watched Aria's face as they approached. Watched the longing in her eyes. The barely concealed desperation. The way her hands trembled slightly at her sides. Ask me, he thought. Please, just ask me. He unlocked the door to the separate section and gestured for her to enter. The Vitalis Radix plants were thriving....their distinctive silver-green leaves catching the specialized lighting, the small white flowers just beginning to bloom.

The shredding of the Ares-Contract in Geneva should have signaled a return to "Normalcy," but the universe does not undo fifty years of potential history without a "Somatic-Echo." As Avery Vane-Thorne walked through the gardens of the Palais des Nations, she stopped before a crack in the ancient stone. There, a single, iridescent-violet flower was blooming. It wasn't the "Synthetic-Amethyst" of the Sombra-Graft she remembered; it was a deep, organic indigo, its petals pulsing with a slow, rhythmic "Biological-Hum."