Kane & Abel Novels & Stories

Kane nodded, his jaw tightening as he motioned for the group to spread out and search the area. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions take over now. They needed to stay focused. Amelia stayed close to him throughout the day, offering quiet reassurances whenever his frustration threatened to boil over. She played her role perfectly, presenting herself as a loyal ally, someone who cared as deeply about finding Layla as he did. And while Kane remained guarded, her presence gave him a strange sense of stability, even if he didn’t fully trust it. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the forest, Kane stood at the edge of a ridge, staring out at the vast expanse of trees below.

Celine's POV. The ride back to Carter's mansion was filled with utter silence. Abel had his head rested on the headboard of his seat with his eyes tightly shut. Probably avoiding any conversations with me. I desperately wanted to talk to him; I felt like it was my fault that he lost the woman he loved. If only he hadn't been forced into this marriage, he would probably have been proposing to Taylor. But deep down I was glad that Mr Carter made this decision. I wasn't sure if I could take Abel marrying another woman.

“Nope. Though you definitely smell like her.” He tilted his head. “But not sex. Shame.” Noah growled. “Shut up.” Jake chuckled, flopping onto the couch like nothing was wrong. “Relax. Just saying you look like hell. Exhausted.” “Not in the mood,” Noah muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “What do you want?” Jake’s smirk faded. “It’s Sullivan. And Jon.” Noah’s posture straightened. “What about them?” Jake’s expression darkened. “It’s bad. Sullivan’s claiming the title ‘Alpha King’ now. His followers are multiplying fast. They’re whispering that you’re weak. That your bloodline’s soft. That… choosing a human Luna proves it.”

Rem didn’t look at him, but the tension between them hummed like a live wire even in the chaos. And above it all, Kane’s voice carried, low and furious, each word a command to the universe itself. “She lives. They all live. Do you hear me? Not my woman, not my brother, not my children. No one dies tonight!” The gates of The Abyss swung wide, soldiers rushing to clear the path as the jeep entered. Kane barreled through with Castelle in his arms. His face was carved stone, but his eyes betrayed the storm inside him — rage, terror, desperation.

“Get in line. I already threatened to make them do suicides in the onesies if they include feeties. They increased the order.” The image of Damian Kane—undisputed captain, human embodiment of controlled violence on skates—standing in a team meeting negotiating the terms of footed pajamas was so absurd that another laugh cracked out of me before I could stop it. This one was louder. Real. When I looked up he was watching me with something that looked almost like satisfaction, as if the sound itself had been the point of the story. “You’re enjoying this,” I accused. “I’m enjoying that you haven’t walked out yet. The pajama information is a bonus.”