Some stories are meant to be read. Others are meant to trap you inside and make you live them.
NOAH'S POV
The room was silent, the kind of peaceful silence that seeps into your bones—the smell of old paper, warm garlic, and chocolate hanging in the air like comfort.
I leaned back slightly in my chair, fork in hand, scooping up a bite of creamy pasta Abigail had made. The flavor burst across my tongue—warm, buttery, and just the right amount of spice.
"This is delicious, Abi. Absolutely delicious," I said with a soft hum, my eyes locking onto hers across the table.
Her cheeks flushed, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks."
"I agree! This brownie is sooo good, Abi!" Yami exclaimed, her voice practically a squeal as she hugged the dessert box to her chest. "I love you for this!"
Abi chuckled, shaking her head as she waved them off. "You two are too dramatic. Just eat."
And so we did.
Books open, mouths full, and hearts strangely light despite the weight of our shared past.
I flipped a few pages of the novel in front of me, fingers running over the slightly yellowed paper. The texture felt older than it should have—almost like the story had lived longer than us.
The title was worn, but inside... it was hauntingly familiar.
It was a tale of an empress named Violet.
She had two brothers—Ivan, the elder, and Damian, the younger.
The story detailed Violet's rise to the throne. Her journey wasn't typical—there were no grand victories, no sweeping romances. Just blood. Silence. Loss.
Her brothers both died along the way.
And yet—no explanation.
Their deaths were just... blank. Entire pages were missing, torn or purposefully left empty, like someone didn't want the truth to be known.
The further I read, the more unsettling it became.
In the royal world this book described, being born with powers was considered a curse if you belonged to the imperial bloodline. Yet Violet had them.
Her gift?
Her eyes.
If she looked into someone's gaze long enough, she could see the color of their soul.
Black meant their hands were stained—murder, deceit, betrayal.
And that wasn't all.
If she touched someone, even just brushed skin, she could see a thin red thread tied to their ring finger. That thread stretched through space, always leading to one other person.
Their soulmate.
And only Violet could see it.
I exhaled slowly, staring down at the passage again, my mind racing.
Something about this story—Violet, Damian, the powers, even the missing pages—it was all too eerie. Too close.
I glanced at Abigail, then at Yami, who were both deep in their books, faces lit softly by the amber glow of the library lamp.
YAMI'S POV
I shoved another piece of the brownie into my mouth—rich, gooey, and too good to be true. Abigail had seriously outdone herself. For someone who probably hadn't cooked in a long time, she baked like someone who'd found peace in it. Maybe that's what made the food so comforting. Maybe it was her way of grounding herself, just like I used to fight to feel control.
I flipped the page in the book resting on my lap, brushing off a few crumbs as I settled deeper into the soft library chair. The dim lighting overhead flickered slightly—giving the place a quiet, haunted glow that oddly matched the story I was reading.
The book was about an emperor.
Damian.
The name stopped me. My fingers froze mid-turn of the page.
He had an elder brother, Ivan, and an older sister—Violet.
I blinked slowly, my mind rewinding to Noah's book. Didn't he say his novel was about Violet? And Abigail mentioned something about missing pages too...
Strange.
The storyline unfolded in a beautifully dark, ancient world—one where kingdoms rose and crumbled like sandcastles, and where thrones were bathed in blood, not gold.
Power. Betrayal. Secrets.
And Damian... he wasn't just some prince playing games of war.
He was something far more dangerous.
I read on, heart thudding louder with each word.
Damian had two powers.
One—he could hypnotize people. His voice, his presence—it could twist someone's will, bending it like a candle in heat. He could plant memories, erase them. With just a whisper, he could make someone forget the worst day of their life... or the best.
Two—he had the ability to see visions of the future.
Not dreams. Not symbols. Actual flashes. Clear, cruel, and precise.
I stared at the page, the hairs on the back of my neck standing straight.
"Damn," I whispered under my breath. "What kind of power combo is that..."
In another world, he would've been a weapon. A king no one dared to challenge.
I ran my fingers down the spine of the book, thoughts spiraling faster than I could stop them.
Why did this feel so... specific? Why did it feel like more than just fiction?
I glanced across the table—Noah was lost in thought, still flipping through his book, his brows pinched. Abigail was chewing slowly, her eyes moving with the pace of her reading, but her fingers were fidgeting.
We were all thinking the same thing, weren't we?
These books...
They weren't just stories.
Abigail's POV
The warmth of the garlic bread still lingered on my tongue, but I barely tasted it.
My fingers clutched the spine of the book too tightly, and I didn't even realize until my knuckles turned white. I was chewing out of habit—mechanical, slow—as my mind spiraled deeper into the pages of the novel resting on my lap.
The story was about an emperor.
Ivan.
He had two younger siblings—Violet and Damian.
I froze.
Wait a second...
Those were the same names from Noah's and Yami's books.
I tilted my head slightly, glancing at them without saying a word. They were too deep in their own reading, their eyes narrowed, faces etched with the same confusion I felt crawling into my skin.
What the hell was this?
I lowered my gaze back to the text, swallowing hard.
Ivan's journey to becoming emperor wasn't paved in glory. It was pain—blood, sacrifice, betrayals laced with duty. He wasn't born to be king... he became one when his world gave him no choice.
And the strangest part?
His powers.
Two of them.
The first—if he touched someone while they were asleep, he could slip into their dreams. He didn't just watch. He could alter them, plant fears, nightmares, or comfort, depending on what he wanted them to feel.
The second—he had a rare form of space manipulation. A dimension would open—an ethereal void, only accessible when he was in urgent need. But the space had a mind of its own. It opened when it wanted, and not always for his convenience.
My pulse quickened as I turned the pages slowly, eyes devouring every line.
Then came something unexpected.
A mention of Ivan's secret life.
He had studied medicine in secret. He was a doctor—a highly skilled one. But hardly anyone knew. In his world, a ruler with healing hands was seen as a contradiction. Weakness, they called it.
But Ivan?
He didn't care for titles.
He saved lives in the shadows while ruling an empire with an iron fist.
I closed the book slowly, the weight of the story pressing against my chest like a vice.
What the hell is going on?
Three novels.
Three siblings.
Violet. Damian. Ivan.
And each of us had unknowingly picked their story.
This wasn't coincidence.
This was something else.
The dim light of the library flickered slightly above us. Dust swirled in the golden rays seeping through the stained windows. Everything around me felt too quiet, like the world itself was holding its breath.
I leaned back slightly, scanning my friends' faces again—Noah's jaw was tight, his eyes scanning fast. Yami's brows were furrowed, her hand frozen mid-page.
They felt it too.
The eerie familiarity.
The ache of déjà vu.
The names. The powers. The missing pages.
Something tied us to these books.
And for the first time in ten years... I wasn't afraid.
I was curious.