Doors Of Stone Will Never Be Released Novels & Stories

"Martin, I'm really fed up. Let's get a divorce after the baby is born." Martin's eyes instantly turned red. "No, I don't want to. Audrey, I'll never let you go. I've loved you for so many years." "You know very well whether you love me or my family." "I love you, of course! How can you doubt me like this?" "Then you give up your shares in the Steinfeld family and go abroad with me." He fell silent. After a while, he spoke hesitantly. "No… I can't. The company needs me."

Then I knelt. Her breath caught. And I pulled out the box. “No guards,” I said softly. “No orders. No expectations.” I opened it. The stone caught the fading sunlight. “This isn’t to replace anything,” I said. “It’s to reclaim it. You were forced into something that should have been sacred. And I swore that if we ever made it out alive, I’d ask you again. Properly. Without fear. Without Donga. Without chains.” I looked up at her.

He begs me, but I am too stubborn to listen. "Open this door for me or I will open it myself!" I yell at him. He finds this funny. "Those walls are shear walls, reinforced with high yield steel and the door is very strong too. You can not break out of there." He says. "All you have to do is take time and calm down and I promise, we will release you." He adds. "I do not want to be calm. I want to avenge my daughter." I said to him. "At least let me have this one for myself." I say again.

Nothing could get in or out. Meaning my wolf could not sense Valerie, nor smell her through the stone. Thinking back to it, the dungeon most certainly would have been the most convenient place to keep someone captive. One of the most heinous qualities of the place was its door. The door was sculpted from a round, flat slat of stone, an had been designed so as to only open from the inside. Using this design, my father insured that no one would ever have the capability of freeing my grandfather…or the treacherous Beta, Noah Wilson.

He looked at all of us with pure hatred. “This isn’t over,” he said. His voice was weak but I know he meant every word he said. “I’ll come back. I always come back. In this life or the next. She’s mine.” Then he pulled something from his pocket. A small stone. He crushed it in his hand. Light flared bright enough to make me close my eyes. When I opened them again, he was gone. “What was that?” I asked. “ A transportation stone,” Lydia said. “It is very rare. He really thought this through .”

They looked heavy enough to crush a car. "Ready?" Alerion asked, his hand back on his sword. "Do I have a choice?" "Not really." "Then I guess I'm ready." Caius stepped forward and placed his hand on one of the symbols. It lit up gold, then the doors started grinding open, slow and ominous. Here we go. Please don't let this be a huge mistake. Please let my dad actually be in here. Please let us all survive. The doors opened onto darkness, and somewhere in that darkness was the Lunar Spirit Stone. And hopefully, the key to saving my father.

“Burned?” Kieran’s gaze flicked to me, warning. “Aria—” “Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t decide what I get to know.” Dax’s voice stayed calm, but the air around him tightened. “Your pack buried that pendant because it opens doors your council can’t lock.” Kieran’s eyes dropped to the black stone. “That stone doesn’t open doors,” he said, voice rough. “It opens cages.” A cold prickle ran down my back. “What cages?”

I questioned after taking a long sip of my tea. “Actually, no. The Overlord promised to send it our way once you two finally tied the knots." "I thought he was joking when he said so initially. But mom, and you believe him..?" I honestly do not know why he chose that part. I've agreed to his proposals already, and his seal is boldly plastered on my skin, more like a wicked and dangerous tattoo. How else am I going to tell him to release the Stone to us? Why the further delay? Don't know why, mom.."

The door was waiting for her. This stone door had been shut for five hundred years. It had never been locked. The echo Nyx had left in the stone wall had said so: *The door is not locked. It was only sealed shut.* Now the seal had zeroed out. The door was simply closed—like a book shut for five hundred years. If someone just gently turned the first page with a fingertip, the entire book would open on its own. She withdrew her hand. The pulse between her palm lines and the obsidian did not break, trailing a fine, pale arc of light through the air. The ancient mechanism within the stone door had sensed the bloodline of the Mother of Wolves and was actively releasing the final physical seal.

There were no handles, no hinges, no seam to suggest how they might be opened. After a moment’s hesitation, I stepped forward and pressed my palm flat against the cold, unyielding stone. Closing my eyes, I reached inward for my own power and poured it outward not as a force, but as a question, a resonant plea. For a heart-stopping second, there was nothing. Then, a low groan answered, the sound of stone grinding against stone for the first time in millennia. The doors shuddered open, releasing a sigh of stale air and a cloud of dust motes that danced like constellations in the sudden slice of daylight.