3 Intertwined Hearts Novels & Stories

Just like that, I would sneakily look at the photos and videos the stranger sent to me after Chuck fell asleep. I felt like I'd lost my mind—I was a shameless hussy who desired to be conquered by a strong man. I allowed my fantasies to run wild as I stared at his photos. I learned his name from the videos he'd sent me of various women begging him to go harder and faster—Tom Young. I thought he and I were just two parallel lines that would never cross each other's paths. I never would've expected the impossible to happen.

I interlink are hands. I love you. I don’t think he’ll give me any reply, but his eyes open, ringed with fire, then he leans closer and captures my lips with his. It’s a slow, soft kiss that feels more like he’s pouring his heart into mine, and my heart is so full with love that it seems like it’ll burst. I deepen the kiss because I don’t know how to express how much I feel in that moment. When he finally pulls away, allowing me to breathe and clear the heady feeling, I find his intense eyes on mine, and I look away, looking down only to find that our interlinked hands are ringed with fire…no, not fire, cus it’s dark, smoky, almost black, but before I can explore it further, it flickers and

Two hearts in two different places—once intertwined—now burned in the same fire. A truth that scorched, and a love that refused to die.

Whatever was happening out there, she prayed he’d come back to her soon. Silas leaned forward—his eyes alight with an almost scholarly fascination. “The design you described—the intertwined hearts with the Celtic knots,” he continued, tracing an invisible pattern in the air, “that’s the mark of eternal bonding. The curved line that looks like a bite? That’s your claim on him as his mate.” Cathy’s fingers unconsciously traced the spot on Magnus’s neck where she’d left the mark—remembering the intricate design that had bloomed beneath her touch. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she asked, “And the wolf?”

Yet the familiarity kept tugging at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch. A soft whimper escaped Maya’s lips. Alessandro leaned forward instantly. Her lips parted as if she were trying to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, a tear slipped from the corner of her eye and rolled slowly down her temple. Without thinking, he caught it with his fingertip before it could disappear into her hair. Something twisted painfully in his chest. He brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face—and then his eyes caught something at the base of her neck, where it curved into her shoulder.

"I need vascular control. Where's that bleeding—" There. The intercostal artery, torn from its vertebral origin, pumping bright arterial blood into the chest with each cardiac cycle. Cyrus clamped it with a hemostat, then another, working his way along the posterior chest wall like a seamstress stitching in reverse—stopping the leaks, one by one, while the patient's life measured itself in milliliters. "Pressure's coming up. Seventy. Eighty."