Novels by daiton001

Evelyn hadn’t woken up.She was taken to a private hospital outside the city—off the grid. No press, no records. Her wounds were serious: internal bleeding, broken ribs, torn muscles. She’d lost a lot of blood.Mason sat by her bed, bruised and bandaged himself. He hadn’t slept much. The machines beeped steadily beside her, but she hadn’t moved.Lucian paced the hallway, silent, restless.Anika showed up on the second night. She brought clean clothes and Evelyn’s badge from the precinct. She set it quietly on the bedside table and leaned close to whisper, “You better wake up, Evie. We’re not done yet.”No response.Back in the city, Damian was already cleaning up. Suits, meetings, cameras. The press called it an “industrial explosion.” No one mentioned the Door, or Julian. That part had been erased.Behind closed doors, whispers moved fast. Some of his allies demanded answers. Others backed away, uneasy with the blood on his hands.Damian gave them a tight smile and said, “Everything

Evelyn stared into the blackness beyond the Door.It wasn’t just dark—it was heavy. Like a vacuum pressing against her chest. Something ancient, vast, and wrong stirred beyond the threshold, brushing her consciousness with the familiarity of a nightmare she’d never had—yet somehow always carried.“Close it,” Lucian growled, backing away. “Whatever’s in there, it remembers you.”She didn’t answer.Her feet edged closer.Inside the Door, the air shimmered. Shapes moved, too fast to be fully seen—like wolves made of shadow and bone. Whispers swirled around her, one voice cutting through the rest:> “E-113. Return.”She blinked. The world around her tilted. Her vision wavered—flashing images: a sterile white room, restraints biting into her wrists, her mother’s face pale with guilt, and Damian’s voice murmuring something about a key.The realization hit her hard—they didn’t just make her for this. They made her do it.Lucian grabbed her arm, grounding her. “Evelyn. You don’t belong to the

Mason’s breath came in ragged gasps as he pressed his back against the wet bark of a pine tree, one hand clamped to his side where blood seeped hot and steady through his fingers. His vision blurred, pulsing with pain and adrenaline. He could hear them—boots crunching dead leaves, radios murmuring, the hounds of the Circle loose in the dark.He hadn’t meant to separate from Evelyn and Lucian. The explosion back at the ridge had knocked him off his feet, disoriented him. By the time he’d regained his bearings, they were gone, and the forest was crawling with enemies.A branch snapped too close. Mason gritted his teeth and forced himself to move, every step a white-hot spike through his ribs. He wasn’t a werewolf like Evelyn or Emily—but he was something just as stubborn: a man too loyal to quit.A soft growl rumbled in the trees to his left.“Not now,” Mason whispered. “Don’t you dare.”The growl came again—closer. He turned, raising his knife, breath hitching.But what stepped out was

Evelyn didn’t know how long they’d been running—just that her legs wouldn’t stop shaking. Every breath scraped like glass down her throat. The forest blurred around her, trees spinning by in smears of brown and green. Lucian was ahead, always just out of reach, silent and fast like a shadow that refused to wait.She stumbled.Didn’t fall.Keep going.But her side was wet. Warm. She pressed her palm there and felt the sick, sticky heat of blood soaking through her shirt.Lucian finally slowed near a fallen tree. He crouched low, checking the air like a wild animal scenting danger, then waved her forward.Evelyn dropped beside him, gasping, the cold moss beneath her a small relief. “They’re not behind us.”“They will be,” he said without looking at her. “They always are.”She winced and shifted. Pain flared sharp through her ribs.Lucian turned. His eyes flicked to the dark stain spreading beneath her jacket. “You’re bleeding again.”“I noticed,” she muttered.“Let me see.”“I’m fine.”

Julian’s words hung heavy in the cold.Help me burn it all down.Evelyn didn’t lower her gun. Her arms trembled—not from fear, but from rage. Guilt. Grief. The memory of Emily's blood on her hands.“I’m not your weapon,” she said. “And I’m not your damn ally.”Julian’s gaze softened, like he pitied her.“You still think this ends with good guys walking away clean.” He stepped closer. Lucian bared his teeth, growling low.“You weren’t created to save the world, Evelyn. You were designed to lock it up. You’re a failsafe. Nothing more.”“Then why not kill me?” she snapped. “If I’m the key to the Door, and you want it buried—kill me right now.”Julian hesitated.Something flickered in his face—something broken.“Because you’re the only one who might still choose not to open it.”Then he moved.Fast. Too fast.Lucian lunged at the same moment, claws colliding with claws in a crack of sound that sent birds scattering into the night. Evelyn dove aside, rolled, and came up firing. Silver roun

The forest reeked of blood and gunpowder. Evelyn’s breath fogged in the cold air as she ran, heart thundering like a drum against her ribs. Behind her, the screams had stopped. That was worse than hearing them.Lucian didn’t say a word. He moved ahead, his shoulders hunched, muscles coiled tight like a wolf still waiting to pounce. His scent—earth, pine, and something wild—lingered in the air as Evelyn struggled to keep up. Her legs ached, her throat burned. But she couldn’t stop. Not now.A clearing broke through the trees. The ruined husk of an old ranger station sagged beneath snow-dusted beams. Lucian jerked open the door and motioned her inside.“Won’t hold them long,” he muttered, eyes scanning the dark treeline. “But it’s something.”Inside, Evelyn collapsed against the wall, gasping. The air stank of rot and old wood. Dust stirred with every breath.Lucian’s silhouette loomed in the dark, his eyes catching what little light remained—those unmistakable predator eyes. Still glow