Cain Dear Door Novels & Stories

She was sure of that, even if she couldn’t do that- worst come to come, she would just go ahead and submit in front of the order— A low thunk came from the front of her door and Reyna frowned, the sound was small and it hardly made any noise but with her acute shifter hearing, she heard it. Surprised she waited for Cain to walk inside, thinking that it might be him but when no one came inside her frown deepened even further as she crossed the room and opened the door, there was no one except a red envelope near the door.

Irene opened the door to her room, she saw her husband lying on the bed sleeping, as she was pacing around contemplating whether to ask him about the anniversary party or not, but how would she tell him who told her? She doesn't want the party or anyone in the house or someone to find out about her secret affair, she doesn't want an intruder in the house. She needs to find a way to stop the party.

For a moment, he considered doing the same to Astrid before leaving, but he couldn’t gather the courage to. Just seconds after he left the room, another knock came on the door once again. “Come in,” Astrid called. The door opened, revealing Cassia whose hands were folded with an angry frown on her face. “We need to talk, Astrid. Right this fucking moment.”

Celestina was surprised when Cavin's eye met hers when the door unexpectedly opened through the chinks between the dark window curtain and the window cases, the brighter light of the coming dawn. The lantern lights seemed dull and yet glaring, and every shadow was of a hard intensity. There was nothing of morning freshness; nothing of the softness of night. All were hard and cold and inexpressibly miserable. The face of the foolish young man on the door seemed ghastly pale, and the healer's face on his back had taken a suggestion of orange from the shade of the lamp near Diana. "Cavin? What is it? You look so rather pale?

Kain helps me out of the passenger seat, his hand clamping around mine and never letting go until we’re all the way inside the front door. The cabin is stripped bare. Wooden logs, a cold stone hearth, and some ugly, basic furniture that looks like it was bought at a garage sale. His guys immediately fan out, checking the window frames and vanishing into the trees outside to set up watch. Finally, we’re alone. [1] Kain twists the heavy deadbolt on the front door, then turns around to look at me. “Bathroom’s through that door,” he says, his voice flat and quiet. “Clean clothes are in the closet. I’ll mess with the kitchen, make some coffee.” [2]

“Enter.” Cain stood by the window with the shutters half-open to the compound’s inner garden. Up close, he was even more composed, more severe, the kind of man who made silence feel like a tool. A single lamp burned on the table. The room smelled of paper, oil, and crushed herbs. “Ivy,” he said. Not a question. “Yes, Brother Vale.” “Close the door.” She did. The latch clicked softly, and the sound seemed too intimate for a study.

-Cain- The door swung open, creaking ominously, and I could hardly believe my eyes. I barely noticed the stench of death and blood that clung to the air like a shroud. The scene before me was too horrifying to process. I stepped over the threshold, my gun gripped tightly in my hand, but I knew the rogues were long gone. They had sent the message they intended, tearing apart the protected lone wolves we had placed here until we could find them a proper and safe home.

I smoothed down my crumpled tunic, steeled my resolve, and walked straight over to the heavy wooden door connecting our quarters. I pushed the door open, stepping into the main sitting room where Cain and Caleb were sitting in tense, suffocating silence. Cain was seated by the unlit hearth, his broad arms crossed tightly over his chest, his face set in a stony, unreadable scowl. Caleb sat across from him on the edge of a wooden chair, his head buried in his hands, his knuckles white as he gripped his hair. He still looked rattled, covered in the faint, dried tea stains from his run-in earlier.

“Kelsie, I know that was scary. It’s not… you don’t need to worry. Please open the door. I’m only here to talk.” I got slowly to my feet gripping the baseball bat. I tiptoed over to the window in the living room that would let me see whoever was at the door. Definitely Cain. Shit. He was leaning on the doorframe with one hand and had the other fist up to knock on the door. His head was turned towards where the door would open, which was why he didn’t see me peering through the window on the other side. But when I didn’t answer, he sighed, his shoulders rising and falling in a deep breath, then he started to straighten up.

It possessed a geometry that was too perfect for the rough, organic interior of the hut. It was a Door. The frame shimmered with a faint, violet luminescence, pulsing gently like a slow heartbeat. The center of the door was a swirling vortex of black, but deep within that blackness, Ressi could see faint glimmers, like distant galaxies spinning in a void. It looked deep—impossibly deep. The fire in the hearth seemed to shrink away from it. The temperature in the hut plummeted. Fear, cold and primal, washed over him. He scrambled backward until his back hit the reed door he had been about to open. "Mungu wangu," he whispered.