200 Years Together Novels & Stories

They have sworn an oath to one another. It’s not like they were strangers. They knew each other years before their incident. They had known each other for seven years before they tied the knot. They lived together, ate together, slept in the same house, under the same roof. They slept together. Only once during that time. But still being each other’s first they both remembered it. It was a magical moment for both of them. They enjoyed each other’s embrace. Not like he forced her, or she forced him. It was consensual.

She asked her in an angry and demanding tone. "Why are you accusing me falsely, Vivian? I never asked Grey to love me. He did that from his own heart and I did too and I do not regret it. Grey and I have come a long way, that's what you do not understand," Maya replied. Vivian scoffed. "You have known him for only ten months. It's not even up to a year. I have known him for twenty four years!" She said raising her voice. Maya smiled sadly. If only Vivian knew that they've been together for more than five centuries and have been trying to reconnect since then, until now.

“Everyone knows she never supported George in the beginning, but many years has passed already, she might not or might have changed” “Hmm, it's been 20 years since that incident happened, I can still remember that it's still fresh in my memory, we were both pregnant at that time, and hoping that our sons will be best of friends when they grow up, who would have know that fate has a different plan for us”

she whispered into the darkness. "Tomorrow we end this war," I replied. "What if we do not? What if The Covenant wins?" "Then we regroup and try again. And keep trying until we do win. Because giving up is not an option." "Seventy five years," Mary said softly. "That is what we promised each other." "Seventy five years minimum. I am thinking we should extend that to a hundred." She laughed quietly. "A hundred years with you sounds perfect." "Then let us make sure we both survive tomorrow to start counting those years."

"I wouldn't trade a single year of it. Not even the hard ones. Not even the parts that started as nothing more than paperwork." "Not even the hard ones," I echoed. We sat together as full darkness settled over the yard, hands linked, the whole weight of twenty-two complicated, difficult, ultimately beautiful years settled comfortably between us—no longer a burden to carry, just a story we'd lived through together and come out the other side of, whole and grateful and still, somehow, completely in love.

"The scientists said so. Progress said so. The forced merger cannot be undone. Cannot be reversed. Cannot be separated. You are Together forever. Separation is impossible. The scientists said so." "The scientists were wrong," Together said calmly. "Separation is possible. Separation has always been possible. But separation requires something the scientists did not have. Does not require technology. Does not require intervention. Requires only choice. Requires only will. Requires only absolute commitment. The three of us have been together for twenty-three years. Twenty-three years of learning each other. Twenty-three years of understanding each other. Twenty-three years of knowing each other

Nelson's words still echoed in her ears as she stared at the kiss marks he had left all over her body, and she couldn't stop her tears from streaming down her face now. They had known each other for more than twenty years. They had grown up together, shared the same glass of milk, and even read the same comic books. When they were eighteen, they had even gotten drunk and slept together. Once there was a first time, there was a second, a third...

I leaned my head on his shoulder. Thirteen years since that hotel bar. Thirteen years of love and chaos and struggle and triumph. And somehow, impossibly, we'd made it work. All of it. Together.

Warm and patient and completely indifferent to what I just learned. "The gate took the bond," I say. "Yes." "Not her life. Not her wolf." I look up at Maya. "The bond." "Yes." "They walked out alive." "Both of them." "And never spoke again." Maya holds my gaze. "Forty years for her. Thirty-eight for him. The account says they lived in the same territory for eleven of those years." She pauses. "Passed each other at pack gatherings. Sat in the same halls." Her voice is careful now. Precise. "Nothing. Like it had never existed."

She added a new bench—one for her and Nathaniel, with a small plaque that read: "Together for fifty years. And counting." "We're going to be the couple that everyone talks about," Nathaniel said, reading the plaque. "Let them talk." Victoria took his hand. "We've earned it."