Todos os capítulos de Bound by Desire: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

The sun was starting to dip low, my hands tucked into the sleeves of Jason’s old hoodie. The one I used to steal back when things were normal. Safe. Dad stood beside me, his arms crossed tightly over his chest like he was trying to hold himself together. “I have to go,” I said quietly. “I know,” Dad replied, just as quiet. Jason opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He looked so much older than he used to—like the weight of everything had aged him overnight. I swallowed hard. “Tell Calla I love her, okay? That I’m sorry I didn’t get to see her. I just… I didn’t want her to see me like this.” Jason nodded, brushing a tear off his cheek. “She misses you. But I’ll tell her.” “And you—both of you—I love you. So much.” Dad stepped forward and pulled me into a tight hug, one hand cradling the back of my head like he used to when I was little. “We love you too, sweetheart. We’re proud of you. No matter what.” Jason wrapped his arms around both of us. Finally, I pulled

The house felt different now. Not safer exactly… just less hostile. Damien’s warning to his followers had kept them from lunging at me, but the stares didn’t stop. Wherever I walked, I could feel the weight of eyes on me—curious, cold, disapproving. I kept my head up and moved like I belonged, even though I didn’t feel it yet. I wandered further than usual that day. The halls stretched on endlessly, a maze of old doors and creaking floorboards. The silence was thick—until it wasn’t. I stopped mid-step, head turning toward a door down the corridor. Faint, muffled sounds—like a grunt. A shift. The scrape of metal or something solid. I glanced around quickly. No one in sight. Without thinking, I moved toward the door, pressing my ear to it. More movement inside. I eased the door open. The light inside was dim, a single bulb flickering from the ceiling. The room was small and bare, except for one thing—someone tied to a chair in the middle, blood trailing down his arms and drippin

It had been a few days since Damien caught me sneaking around, and somehow, things had gone back to their uneasy rhythm. I hadn’t seen Connor since that night—until now.I turned the corner in the hallway and nearly collided with him. He looked different than before—less pale, more stable on his feet, though his eyes still held that hollow tiredness.“Connor,” I said quietly, almost unsure if I should be speaking to him at all.He blinked, surprised, then gave me a small nod. “Lyra. Didn’t expect to see you.”I glanced around the hall before stepping closer. “How have you been?”He gave a short laugh under his breath, the sound dry and bitter. “Fine, I guess. Better than dead. Honestly…I didn’t think he’d let me live. I thought for sure I was done.”“Me too,” I admitted. My voice was softer than I intended, and I quickly added, “But it’s a good thing he didn’t.”Connor leaned back against the wall, his expression unreadable. “Good for me, maybe. But let’s be real—he didn’t spare me ou

A few days passed without incident. I learned the rhythm of the place—when the halls were busiest, which corridors stayed quiet, how to move without drawing too much attention. The looks never stopped. Curled lips. Cold stares. Open disgust. I ignored all of it. Staring back wouldn’t change a thing, and I was done giving them reactions to feed on. I was crossing the lower hall when the air shifted. I didn’t have to turn around to know he was there. “Lyra.” I stopped. Damien stood a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable as ever. His presence alone seemed to still the space around him, like everything else knew better than to move. “You’re walking more comfortably,” he said. “That’s good.” I didn’t answer. “I have another mission for you.” My shoulders tensed. “What kind?” He studied me for a moment, then gestured for me to follow. “The kind that requires discretion.” We walked until we reached a side chamber I hadn’t been in before—smaller, qui

We were barely back inside the base when Connor found me. He moved fast—too fast for someone who’d supposedly been “recovering.” His eyes scanned me head to toe, sharp with concern, like he was expecting to find me bleeding out on the stone floor. “Lyra,” he said, gripping my arm gently. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?” I nodded. “I’m fine.” He didn’t look convinced. “They said it got bad out there.” “It did,” I admitted, then forced a weak smirk. “But don’t worry. I’m not dying anytime soon.” That earned a small breath of relief from him. “Good. I—” He stopped himself, glancing around. “I was worried.” Before I could respond, the air shifted. That cold, unmistakable pressure rolled through the hall like a warning. Damien. “That’s enough,” he said smoothly, appearing beside us. His crimson eyes flicked to Connor’s hand still hovering near my arm. “I need her.” Connor stiffened but stepped back immediately, lowering his gaze. Damien turned to me. “Come.”