Bookworm Cabin Novels & Stories

The finality in his tone landed like a slammed door. For a second anger flared within me. I wanted to snap, ‘Stop treating me like an outsider, stop acting like a child.’ Instead I took a slow breath, forcing a casual shrug. “I'm sorry. I forgot my opinion is not needed.” April shifted, discomfort plain on her face. “Actually, Kael, where were you thinking? We’ve been juggling options for days.” “There’s an old carriage house rented out for literary salons,” I said. “High ceilings, courtyard garden, walls lined with books. People walk in and instantly feel like readers.”

“You asked me to.” He stepped aside, letting her pass. The air inside the cabin smelled of cedar and ash, something wild and old. The walls were lined with books—some new, others ancient, with leather covers and golden etchings. Maps were pinned across the far wall, all hand-drawn. Aiden closed the door behind her and locked it. Evelynn turned slowly in place, taking it all in. “This is where you live?” “Sometimes. It’s where I learned to live.”

The safehouse turned out to be a huge cabin hidden deep in the woods beside a lake. The second we arrived, I frowned. “This place looks like it belongs in a murder documentary.” Kane grabbed our bags from the trunk. “Comforting.” “I’m serious.” “It’s secure.” “That doesn’t make it less creepy.” He walked toward the cabin without answering. I followed reluctantly. Inside, the house was surprisingly warm. Dark wooden walls. Large fireplace. Soft lighting. Massive windows overlooking the lake. It looked cozy. In a terrifying rich-survivalist kind of way.

They exist only in books. He must sense my apprehension as he closes the door behind me, startling me into a small jump as I dart to the nearest piece of furniture for a semi-shield. Briefly taking in a comfortable interior with rustic seating, a table, and a bed. It’s a one-room cabin with a fire already lit and candles on every surface. Strewn with home-made items, like wool blankets, hand-painted art, and pottery. It doesn’t look like the dwelling of a demonic.

I shrug. “I think her dad hunts, so he keeps a cabin on the outskirts of Millbrook. You know, in the unincorporated area where they’re always warning us off from? Well, the area is super peaceful and absolutely beautiful. I’ve been once before, and trust me, the cabin’s nice. This isn’t some ramshackle getaway. It’s done up with all the amenities inside.” Duke scrunches his nose. “Like a pool and a sauna?” I try really hard to contain it, but he still sees my eye roll.

“I hope it’s not too late for us to stop by.” “No, of course not. Do come in.” Balin stepped aside so they could enter. The interior of the cabin was even more spare than Rave’s home. It was about six paces wide and ten paces long, furnished with simple, handmade wooden furniture similar to the stuff at Rave’s. A rectangular dining table with a split log bench on either side filled most of one end of the cabin, and a buckskin sleeping mat stuffed with straw lay upon the plank floor at the other end. In the middle of the room was a brown bearskin rug so old the fur had worn away down to the skin in several places. The fire in the fireplace had burned down to glowing orange and gold embers, wh

—Then I suggest you come in, and let's get started; I'm in no hurry. I walked furiously behind him, and he opened the door of the cabin. We entered, and I could see that it was pretty comfortable; there was a fireplace in the room with two big armchairs. I don't even want to imagine what they were used for. The cabin had two floors; from what I saw, downstairs was the living room, the kitchen, and upstairs I imagine the bedrooms. However, I don't even want to go near that area to avoid any temptation with Maximo.

"This is Laika, a very good friend of mine. She is my kind but a pure breed." The girl looked at me again and looked at Morpheus. Then she smiled at me. "Of course, welcome." She stepped aside for us to go inside. Inside the cabin was even more breathtaking than the surroundings. It was cozy and bright, giving the room a natural feel. It was not tastefully furnished, but there were comfortable sofas, a small desk, a table, and some shelves filled with books of all volumes. A brown rug lay at the center of the room, adding warmth and texture. The cabin created a relaxing ambiance perfect for unwinding after a long journey. A woman came out from an inner room and gasped when she saw us.

Now I started to wonder why my father wouldn’t want me to get there. The journey was swift, the crunching of leaves beneath our feet echoing the urgency in our hearts. As we approached the cabin, the scent of burning wood and paper filled the night air. The distant glow of flames painted an ominous picture against the otherwise serene backdrop of the forest. The cabin, nestled among the trees, was a small structure primarily used for storing ancient books and scrolls—repositories of our pack's rich history and lore during my grandfather’s leadership. When we reached the cabin, the fire was almost down. I thought it was huge because of the way the patrol mind linked us, but it appears that it

The men were commenting and occasionally chuckling lewdly at the images. I was surprised and pulled on Aaron’s arm. "What’s going on here, Aaron?" He greeted the men, seemingly familiar with them, before explaining the setup to me. As I listened, my eyes widened in realization. No wonder Aaron had taken a liking to camping here—the real reason lay right before us. Each woman's video had a number in the corner, which corresponded to a tent outside. For a fee of three thousand bucks, you could book a tent, and the woman from the video would be waiting inside for you.