Novel & Cerita A Knock At The Door Book

I reminded him, my hand already on the door handle. “Right. My mistake,” he grinned, completely unfazed. “Catch you later.” I stepped out, the gravel crunching under my borrowed heels, and watched the car disappear down the drive. I took a long, shaky breath. Time to face Noah. I reached the massive front door. I knocked. Silence. I knocked again, my heart mirroring the rhythmic thud against the wood. It wasn’t until the third knock that the door swung open with a sharp impatient jerk.

Each moan tangled itself around me, pulling tighter and tighter. And then, Then… Silence. No sounds again. The room had gone quiet. I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My heart was still racing when I heard it… A knock. Not from the other side of the wall. But on my door. Three sharp raps against my door. My heart lurched. I wasn’t expecting anyone. But something in the cadence…confident, deliberate…told me this wasn’t housekeeping. It was something else. Something stranger.

He had told me I was safe. I wanted to believe him. A soft knock came from the front door. Not loud. Not urgent. Polite. My heart skipped. The guards outside usually announced themselves. Visitors were rare, and never unannounced. I stood slowly, the book slipping from my fingers onto the couch. Another knock. “Coming,” I said, my voice sounding steadier than I felt. I opened the door. No one was there. Just the long hallway, empty and still. I frowned and looked down.

Jason wouldn’t knock,he’d call my name instead of knocking . Kael would barge in. Elian would leave a starlight sigil. The person knocking knows me too well because that knock is familiar. I sat up slowly, my shadows rising like blades around me. “Who is it?” I asked, voice steady. No one answered. But the knock came again but louder this time. I stood up, my heart hammering, and walked to the door. Hand on the knob. Breath held. And then... I heard a voice, muffled through wood, soft as smoke:

I was losing myself in a stranger’s voice. Minutes—or maybe hours—passed in that hazy blur of muffled moans and my own quickening breaths. By the time silence fell, my chest was heaving and my thighs trembled from being clenched too tightly. And then, just as I thought it was over, there was a knock at my door. Three sharp, deliberate knocks. I bolted upright, heart slamming against my ribs. Nobody knew me here. Nobody was supposed to. I padded toward the door cautiously, dress still rumpled, wine glass abandoned.

Full of fire. My hands grip his shirt tight. I pull him closer. His fingers dig into my waist. They hold me hard. We pull apart. Breathing hard. Our foreheads touch for a second. His breath is warm on my face. A knock at the door. Loud. Sharp. It cuts through the quiet room like a knife. The sound echoes off the walls. It makes my heart jump. Vorian freezes. His hand stops on the table. We both turn to the door. The knock comes again. Harder. Faster.

I didn’t bother to look up, choosing instead to keep flowing with my words, assuming it was Roni coming back home after spending some time out. But then, there was a gentle knock on the door. My pen froze mid‑sentence. If it was Roni, she would have had a key, or at the very least she would have texted in our family group chat that she was on her way back. The knock was soft, deliberate, almost patient—like someone who knew I was inside and was waiting for me to answer. But I ignored the knock and continued to write, forcing my pen to move across the page as though the rhythm of words could drown out the sound. Yet, the person knocked again—gentler this time, but more insistent, as if they k

I’m here to make things right. Someone knocks on my door.

I clutched it like it could somehow anchor me back to something sane. I took a breath. Two and then a knock. A single, crisp knock at the door. I froze. My mind scrambled. Who…? No one knew I was here. This apartment had been ready today. I hadn’t given anyone the address. I approached the door cautiously, the hairs at the back of my neck rising. Another knock came again although urgent. It was calm. Measured. Somehow... eerie in its politeness. I hesitated for one final second, then opened the door.

Noise to drown out the silence. But before I could untangle my earbuds, I heard a knock on my door. I froze. Lately, no one really knocked here. People barged, demanded, shouted. A knock meant hesitation. A knock meant someone wasn’t sure if they were welcome. “Who is it?” I asked, sharper than I meant. “Me.” Her voice. Rain. For a second, my throat closed. I glanced at the door like it was a trap. Then I got off the bed and opened it.