Invisible Knot Novels & Stories

“A central node connecting everything. And all of it… still active.” Nora approached a pedestal. The pendant flared, and a projection formed in the air: a map of Viremont, alive, showing veins of energy that pulsed through streets, rivers, and forgotten tunnels. Tiny golden sparks blinked along the lines, representing active nodes. “The puppet master’s fingerprints are everywhere,” Nora murmured. “Even after they’re gone, the system remains, semi-autonomous. Left to run on memory and instinct.” Kellen frowned. “And these nodes… what happens if we touch one? Or disable it?”

The feel of the fiber against my skin caused an involuntary shiver. "What is this for?" I asked, turning my face toward the bond that now connected us. "You need to be linked so you don’t get lost during the crossing," explained the sister with celestial eyes, her voice sounding natural but heavy with meaning. "We call it the Knot of Infinity. One begins exactly where the other ends. One completes the other. They are continuous links, alive, pulsing together."

“Don’t—” The temperature dropped another notch, and the dust didn’t fall; it spiraled inward, as if the wall had learned how to inhale. The thin metal seam clicked—precise, engineered—and a series of internal bolts began to walk themselves back with slow, hateful patience. “One… two… three…” Lizzi counted under her breath as each lock released, the seismic trace ticking in time. “Six locks. Seven.” The last bolt refused; the plate shuddered and held. The tapping came again—three and pause—and something harder struck from inside, like a hammer, right where the stubborn lock sat.

I thought he was going to be furious by my words but he appeared to be calmer than I had thought. I went back to my room and my wolf won't stop talking about us being mates. " I hate to hear it" I yelled as I covered my ears. My eyes went to my wrist as I saw a silver line appeared there. I touched it and felt the connection with Alpha Kael, the ritual was already taking place.

Maren was looking at the walls. They were covered. Floor to the low ceiling, every flat stone, hung with cord. Knotwork. Not decoration, I knew that the second I saw it. These were tied with intent. Loops inside loops, hitches I didn't have names for, some of them small as a fingernail and some the size of a wheel, and all of it in an order, a grammar, going somewhere along the wall. I tie knots. I've tied knots my whole life. I looked at that wall and felt like a child who knows her letters watching someone read.

his pause makes me clench my hands against the thick denim of my pants, "I accept yes!" It's over, I feel my knees weaken, and if they talk any more, I don't listen anymore, I always knew my chances were minimal, but to be sure that now they were null leaves me disoriented, even without the certainty, my heart didn't hold back and fantasized about chances that were nothing but imaginative, and now it's broken, next to Leandro I'm nothing, which has never been different in my life, I'm just an invisible.

My stomach knots. There it is, burned into the soil and bark of a large tree, a blackened mark that seems to hum with some kind of dormant energy. It’s not a symbol any of us were taught. Not one the witches have catalogued, not something in any archive I’ve seen. It’s jagged, almost tribal, like claws scraped deep into the earth and flesh of the land, forming a perfect ring of angular shapes, broken lines, and a central eye, watching. Even under the beam of the flashlight, it pulses faintly, like it's alive.

He's moving in to verify. I didn’t reply, Damien could handle it without my input, but I stood by the phone anyway, waiting for the next update. Minutes dragged, then another message. Not him but got some info from another contact. They call it the Knot. Ritual work, I’ll explain when I know more. The Knot… The word throbbed like a bruise in my mind. A ritual to break and reforge bonds? If true, then the sacred was just another tool for men to twist. If Alex could unmake fate, then he could unmake everything.

It buried itself in the wood of a support post behind her with a solid thunk. Her knees hit dirt. Her hand landed on another of the small carved anchors at the circle’s edge—a chunk of stone with the circle‑and‑hook gouged deep into it. This one was solid. Real. Someone had taken time on it. Rin curled her fingers around it. It burned cold, like ice instead of fire, power coiled in its inscribed lines. “You had my parents’ story,” she whispered to it. “You do not get mine.” She squeezed.

I just shifted its "centre of gravity." I hummed a low, discordant note, letting it vibrate through the titanium. I wove the frequency of the storm—the chaotic, unpredictable energy of the wind and wave—into the heart of the processor. I created a "Geometric Knot," a piece of structural logic that said two plus two equals five. The violet glow of the conduit flickered, just for a millisecond, before returning to its steady pulse. The system didn't recognize the intrusion; it saw it as a minor atmospheric interference.