Invisible Knot Novels & Stories

They love me as if I’m their own. When I was younger, Ishir used to find me when I’d go hide and cry alone. He would walk up to me in his tiger form, wrap himself around me, and begin purring until I calmed down and fell asleep. Zephyr is much the same. She’s one of the most kind and gentle women I’ve ever met. I know she suffered, we all know what happened to her when Cal was in the laboratory, and then when she realized that Iniko was alive. When you live like we do, you don’t have any secrets. Well, unless you’re Iniko. He seems to be the only one who doesn’t know what his life was like before he was reborn.

The wound closed wrong and is infected in a way that resists the physician's treatments, and his thread reflects it — the knot I saw from the doorway is tight and hot and angry. I sit beside him, and I find the knot, and I work at it differently than I worked at the fraying. A knot is not a fraying. A knot is something that was tied too tight in the wrong direction and needs to be loosened before it can be released. I find where it starts, and I follow it back to the moment the wound closed wrong, and I look at what the thread was doing then, and I ask it, in the way of the domain, to try again. The guard hisses. Actual pain this time, brief and real, as the knot releases. He grabs the bed f

Thank you ALL for hanging in there while I finished “The Butterfly Knot.” What a hell ride it has been, let me tell you. I remember when I first started writing this novel. My life was so much different back in September of 2020. I was involved in a poly triad, and realized I didn’t fit into their equation. I’m one of the original partners, and ended my seven year relationship so my EXs could be together.

The hearth-space warmed in the center of his chest, a shared room inside the bond where truths could sit without turning into weapons. Ronan’s muscles burned. His lungs ached. The pressure around him tightened to an almost unbearable degree. And then—just ahead—he saw it. Not a light. Not an exit. A knot. A dense, dark concentration inside the illusion, like a parasite’s body hidden beneath the skin of the abyss. The entity’s tether point. It was trying to make him dive deeper to “find himself,” but the real purpose was to drag him toward this knot and wrap him in it.

The violet radiation spiked, turning the sky into a blinding white sheet of agony, but Ash’s hand moved deeper. He felt the wet, frantic thud of her heart. It was beating against his palm, a small, fragile thing caught in a storm of cosmic energy. And wrapped around it, like a parasite of obsidian glass, was the Anchor. It was cold—a cold so absolute it made the Frozen Wastes feel like a furnace. It was trying to pull his arm into itself, trying to find a spark of emotion to latch onto. "Nothing here," Ash said, his voice a flat monotone.

But beneath its wings, intertwined with its very form, was a smaller, almost imperceptible, knot, a complex series of interlocking loops. Her father had explained it once, in a hushed whisper, as the "knot of allegiance," a symbol used to identify those within his innermost, most secret network, those whose loyalty was unquestionable, whose commitment to his grand gambit was absolute, regardless of the façade they presented to the world. The realization sent a fresh wave of shock through Violet, a thrilling, terrifying plot twist that shattered her perception of the pervasive surveillance, of the absolute control Aurora seemed to wield.

The knots are starting to form for the final time tonight. In my pussy, Silas begins to swell. The base of him expands, pushing my walls out until I think they will rip. In my ass, Kael is doing the same. It is a double knot, a craziness that locks me to the floor. I am fused to them, a bridge of flesh that is being filled to the absolute brim.

POV: Neoma Gravity was a suggestion. The Void was the law. I stood ankle-deep in the grit. The cooling sand of the Bone Wastes shifted beneath my weight. I raised my hand toward the sky. The invisible thread I gripped was a physical presence. It was a strand of concentrated energy connecting my nervous system to the reactor core miles above. It was heavy.

But she is just a wielder of this parlor trick. I am an inventor. In every cast, there is DNA, and once I find the opening for the stand, I begin to unravel it. Silver fractures spiderweb outward from the injection point, black veins tearing through the dome like cracks in glass. The barrier sparks and flashes in an attempt to regenerate the holes being created, but my decoding gets faster, more precise. Inside, the creature pauses mid-strike. “Move faster,” Riven shouts. “Sure, because I’m not currently working against factors I have no time to de-analyze,” I reply.

He was currently, according to Jax's last message, "extremely bored and being very irritating about it." Day seven. Node nine. An old standing stone in a field that three generations of the Thornridge pack had been using for informal boundary marking without knowing it was a covenant node. The contamination here was the most sophisticated yet, threaded through the stone's structure in a pattern that took me almost an hour just to map before I could begin addressing it.