Ciaphas Cain Series Novels & Stories

he said when he reached our table, his eyes scanning our group with obvious curiosity before his gaze settled on Naomi and lingered there with unmistakable interest. Oh hell no. Riley noticed and immediately tensed, shifting closer to Naomi on the bench. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Cain continued, extending his hand toward Naomi with a smile. “I’m Cain Blackthorne.” “Naomi,” she managed to say, and I watched her cheeks flush pink as she shook his hand. She was clearly flustered and looking at Cain like he was some kind of impossibly attractive creature that had just wandered into her ordinary college life.

"Cain has mistresses in three different pack territories. One of them has already given him twins. All of them supported with pack funds, recorded in the books as border defense expenses." The stone stayed cool. Every single word was true. The square erupted. Cain lost his mind. He charged the platform and wrapped his hands around Vivienne's throat. In front of the entire pack. In front of the Alpha King. In front of the Alpha Council. "You're the one who told me to get rid of Thomas! You helped me forge the evidence! You think confessing makes you innocent?!" He lost every last shred of control, screaming out one secret after another — secrets he should have taken to his grave.

A room meant for secrets. Cain was waiting, leaning against a desk, sleeves rolled to his forearms, muscles taut beneath inked skin. His jacket was gone. He looked less like a kingpin now—and more like a predator at rest. “You’re here,” he said, as if they’d shown up voluntarily. Ava straightened. “What do you want us to do?” Cain smiled, slow and sharp. “Earn. Trust. Obey.” He turned to a side table where three black velvet boxes sat waiting.

"You want him dead. Good. So do I, tonight, standing here, more than you do. He sent men I would have died beside into a pass to buy a hill. I have read it in Caius's own hand. I am not going to tell you it is a lie. It is true. Every word the runner carried is true." That silenced them, because they had expected a defense, and a defense they could have cut through. "Here is what the runner did not tell you," Sera said, "because Caius did not send him to tell you. Caius has held this secret for three winters. He knew what Dain did the season it happened, and he said nothing, and he let Dain command you, and lead you, and bleed with you, for three years. He did not keep it to protect you. He

“Oh yeah?” “Yeah, it says here that the partnership was dissolved because Dr. Quinn chose to . . . research something else with a friend and former colleague, Dr. Frank M. Cash,” Lacey said and handed the book to Layla. “Start ten pages back and work up to where I stopped.”

The doors slid open. A tall woman in a sleek black suit greeted her with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Ms. Vaughn. Mr. Cain will see you now.” Sera nodded. “Thank you.” They walked in silence through a hallway lined with screens displaying code, data sets, and soft glowing shapes more like an art museum than a tech firm. Then she saw him. Adrian Cain. Standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window, bathed in stormlight. Tall, immaculately dressed in charcoal gray. Shoulders squared. Spine straight. Every line of him screamed command.

I stood with a chair in my hands and stared at the empty doorway until the present room returned around me—bright, noisy, occupied by a different man in a black cassock. By midday I was carrying a box of the new priest’s books toward the parish library. The cardboard edge dug into my palms. Dust and old paper rose when I shifted my grip. Inside the library the air was cooler, polished, familiar. I set the box down and began shelving. That was when I saw them: the same volumes Cassian had borrowed and returned in the early hours before he vanished, spines aligned with bureaucratic neatness. I knew those books, They were the same books Mr. Halden had told me Cassian returned in the early hours

As I walked through the hallway, my mind drifted back to the dream, the voice, and the flashes of images that seemed to haunt me during intimate moments with Cain. Entering the living room, I found Cain already seated, sipping his morning coffee and reading the newspaper. He glanced up as I entered, a warm smile spreading across his face. “You are here,” he said, setting aside the newspaper. He gestured for me to sit beside him, and I did so, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts that troubled me. “I have a big business deal that I have to strike with someone,” he said while I nodded, not entirely surprised that was what he wanted to say. Everything about Cain was work. Cain cared abou

she asserted, and I didn't want to press the issue or make her uncomfortable. "I truly think it's wise to exercise caution until we're certain that Caspian is reliable. I genuinely like the guy; he seems great. However, Charlotte, please be cautious not to hinder our progress. This situation goes beyond finding Sophia; I have a strong sense about it. Let's avoid compromising our progress by putting our trust in the wrong people. It might not be him directly; it could involve his advisors or those around him. Advising him to be cautious about trusting his beta, gamma, or delta might be essential but difficult. Their history goes deep. His family's legacy has governed Cains for generations—tho

The wind carried the faint scent of salt and metal, and somewhere beneath it, the phantom trace of gunpowder from Geneva still clung to her memory. Behind her, footsteps sounded, slow, deliberate, familiar. “You came,” a deep voice said. She turned. Luther Cain emerged from the shadows, wearing a black coat that matched the night itself. His face was half-lit by the faint light spilling through the glass cabin, revealing the sharp, sculpted lines that had haunted her dreams, and her nightmares. For a moment, neither spoke. The silence between them was heavier than any accusation. “You shouldn’t have called me,” she said at last, her tone low but controlled. “If my brothers find out—”