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Our Stone Age Love Story

Our Stone Age Love Story

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    Parts 2
WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing9m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Aug 2, 2026
WpInfo
Fiction
Historical
17th Century
Romance
Kyst is a 28 year old archaeologist who has given up on finding love. While exploring Cave Lascaux in France, she defies her senior's orders and touches an ancient handprint on the wall. The cave shimmers, and when she emerges, everything has changed. She's no longer in modern France but in a prehistoric world of towering trees and untouched wilderness. Then she sees him. A caveman. Tall, muscular, with intense brown eyes and wild dark hair. He's confused by her strange clothes and gear, and she can't understand a single word he says. Now Kyst is trapped in the Stone Age with a man who communicates in grunts and gestures. Will she survive this dangerous world of wild beasts and harsh elements? Will she ever find her way back home? And will she fall in love with a man from a time long before hers?
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I was in love with a man I knew nothing about. Until I was wedded to the one I was destined for. I thought it would be easy to forget him and move on with my life. I was ready to give it a chance. He had broken my heart, after all. But things don't always go the way you want, do they? Everything changed when I stepped into this marriage and realized it needed me more than I needed it. I had a huge family. A whole line of brothers-in-law and a grumpy sister-in-law, who was also once my best friend. I did as I was told. I didn't even give it a thought, how drastically my life was about to change because of this decision. Love doesn't always bloom roses in your garden. Sometimes, it leaves behind dead trees that never bloom, no matter how many springs come and go. I was that tree. My husband was everything a woman could ask for. I don't know if he hated me or not... but I was certain I couldn't give him the true love he deserved. Every time I think of it, I realize I am just a withered Princess. No matter how many roses my husband blooms for me, I will always be crushed beneath the weight of my past and mistakes. As always, I found myself standing by the window, feeling the cold air kiss my cheeks while my husband slept on the bed behind me. I rubbed my arms to warm myself. The moon was pretty.

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