Novel Wall Panel Novels & Stories

She showed her the white shelf that was on the tab and Alva immediately liked it, "I like It." "Yeah it gives it that complete feel, since both sides are going to be without covering, the artworks and sculptures you want can be placed with everyone seeing it from both sides, I think a mahogany frame would be good for the paintings," "Yeah, I thought so too," "Also the paintings upholding that are in the middle and placed strategically are painted green too so that they can have the same color as the designed walls..." "Yeah they look pretty, I could just see the paintings on them already,"

I wince slightly and clutch my tearing side, feeling my skin slowly knit itself back together under the fabric of my nightshirt. As I sit up at the edge of my bed, the room comes fully into view. I rest my elbows gently on my knees, taking the entire thing in. It is… spacious–way more spacious than it looked last night. Dark wooden panels holding shelves stacked to the brim with books on the pack's history, culture and laws line the walls, its mahogany polished to a shine. A large window stretches along one side of the room, letting in pale morning light that cuts through fluttering curtains and spills across the floor.

m. The walls weren’t made of concrete. They were made of reflection. Six panels. Floor to ceiling. Lit with backlights that cast no warmth just shadows of Ember’s own face staring back at her from every angle. And across every mirror, in blood-red scrawl, one word was repeated: “KILL.” Lucien stood at the door, silent, weapon drawn. He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. Ember stepped forward, slowly, toward the center of the room where the floor was glass. Underneath it, a sealed compartment.

Cyrus scrolled through the catalog of safehouse options and began selecting what he needed. First came full structural reinforcement. His apartment would be gutted, every wall, ceiling, and floor replaced with 8-inch alloy panels. The material was aerospace-grade—one-third the weight of steel but ten times stronger—ideal for embedding into a high-rise without overloading the building. The windows would be swapped for the world's toughest bulletproof glass.

I repeated. She frowned, “That’s what it looks like.” I shook my head, “No.” Her eyebrows drew together. I stepped closer to her and lowered my voice, “Not under my watch.” For the first time since Adrian had appeared outside, Serena looked genuinely confused, “What are you talking about?” Instead of answering, I walked toward the far wall of the villa. It looked completely ordinary. That was the point. The wall was covered in the same elegant paneling as the rest of the room. Nothing about it suggested there was anything behind it. No handle. No lock. No visible seam. Nothing.

The headboard is crafted from sleek, dark wood, its surface smooth and polished to a mirror finish. To my left, the glass walls stretch from floor to ceiling, providing an unobstructed view of the sky and a sprawling city below. I don't go closer to discern which city. The sunlight filters through, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. The right wall features two large double doors made of dark wood, their surfaces carved with intricate geometric patterns.

Damen stood in the space in front of me, his eyes filled with lust. My heart is pounding so hard, that I worry it might jump straight out of my chest. His space has deep red panels on the walls, and the bed had red and gold bedding. I turn to look over towards where Max is standing and in his area the walls are black with chrome-colored trim, with a four-post bed made of a very dark almost black-colored wood.

Damien said nothing, as he walked out of the room. Before the floor to ceiling windows, was the lounge area. Plush sectional sofas in muted charcoal faced a state-of-the-art smart wall screen. Sculptural art pieces and curated modern paintings lined the walls, not excessive, but each a statement. There was a small bar corner, stocked with fine whiskey and wine, reserved for nights of solitude. Hidden smart panels controlled everything; lighting, temperature, even the curtains, at a single touch. A wall-mounted digital screen blended seamlessly into the décor, for his efficient use, whenever he needed quick updates.

"I cannot wait for your wolf to see the mountain sun rise over the ridge while we drink our morning brew." He leads me into the main living chamber, where an entire wall has been replaced with massive glass panels looking out into the wilderness. A giant stone fireplace starts at the floorboards and climbs all the way to the high ceiling, throwing off a fierce warmth. I spot a massive wall of old pack scrolls across the room. Behind us, a grand wooden staircase spirals up to the upper living quarters. The space drips with pure alpha authority and sophistication, yet it still calls to my inner wolf like a warm, safe den.

he said, his tone turning serious. I stood up from the desk and walked over to him. Behind the painting, where the gold frame met the dark wood paneling, there was an uneven shadow. Julian ran his fingers along the edge of the wood. "The paneling here isn't flush with the rest of the wall," he explained, pointing to a tiny, microscopic gap in the wood grain. "It’s a false panel."