Authors Unbound Novels & Stories

Please remember that the events and relationships in this book are entirely fictional and are written for storytelling purposes. Most importantly, this is Luna's story, a girl who has spent her entire life in a cage, searching for a life that truly belongs to her. I hope you'll laugh with her, cry with her, get frustrated with her, and fall in love with her journey. Happy reading! — C

It wasn't just about our love story; it was about the ripple effect it had created, the countless lives it had touched, and the dreams it had ignited ...across generations. Sarah Jr., her eyes sparkling with a fire that mirrored Lily's at her age, represented the continuation of our legacy, a new chapter in the story of unexpected connections and unwavering purpose. As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the porch, I knew this wasn't just a chance encounter. It was a torch being passed, a flame rekindled. Sarah Jr., with her vibrant spirit and unwavering commitment to justice, embodied the spirit of The Unbound Collective.

I said in a light tone, "Did you hear that, Mr. Lancaster? My family is waiting for me. If you would like to discuss a collaboration, please follow the proper procedures. I must excuse myself now." Then, without sparing Morgan another glance, I walked straight past him with Lucian and Theo. This time, Morgan didn't come out after us. The night breeze was gentle as we stepped out of the hotel. Lucian drew me into his embrace and said softly, "It seems he… hasn't completely let go of you yet." I lowered my head and planted a kiss on the top of Theo's head, my tone resolute. "That has nothing to do with us." Leaning drowsily against Lucian's shoulder, Theo mumbled quietly, "Mommy, that man is…

YOU ALL CAN FOLLOW ME ON MY I*******M PAGE - SK_AUTHOR ( or you can find with Untamedfeel_7) HELLO DEAR READERS.. HOW ARE YOU ALL..❤❤❤... HERE IS YOUR UPDATE♥♥

“What are you going to tell Roan?” He’s quiet a moment. “I’m going to tell him there was an accident,” he says. “And that whoever was involved is somewhere safe now. That’s all that’s true, and that’s all he needs.” He leaves before I can decide whether to thank him for it. Nora and I are left alone with a dead man on her kitchen table and a name, Unbound, that I don’t understand yet, but that already feels like it’s going to define the rest of my life.

But the peace is an illusion, a thin layer of frost over a boiling spring. ​A young Southern scout, his leather armor torn and splattered with grey mud, kneels at the base of the steps. His breath comes in ragged, shallow gasps that fill the sterile air with the scent of pine sap and stale copper. ​"They call themselves the Unbound, Grand Luna," the scout rasps, his head bowed so low his chin touches his collarbone. "Exiled purebloods, rogues from the fringes who refused to swear the oath. They are gathering in the northern wastes under Brielle’s banner. Two hours ago, they hit our primary supply caravan at the base of the white ridge. They didn't just use teeth, my Queen. They brought machi

Outside the kitchen window the compound was fully in its morning configuration now — the training yard occupied, the east courtyard busy, the Iron Veil at its working pitch. "Rowan," she said. "Yeah." "Thank you. For saying that clearly." He looked at her. "It's true." "I know." She set down her cup. "That's why I'm thanking you." She spent the morning writing the Eastern alliance document for Dalla. She had been thinking about it since the council session — the way the three packs had been treated as a unified bloc when their interests were actually distinct, the leverage that separate engagement would unlock. She wrote it the way she wrote everything that mattered: completely, with full at

Ready. “Who are you?” I demand. “We are the Unbound,” she says simply. “Those who severed ourselves from the Crown long before you ever touched it.” My breath catches. “That’s impossible,” Blake says behind me. The woman’s smile widens. “So everyone said.” The Crown hums louder now—not angry. Uneasy. “You came because of me,” I say. “Yes,” she replies. “And because of what you broke.” She steps closer, stopping just short of the tree line. “You didn’t destroy the Crown. You made it vulnerable.”

Narrator’s POV Things at Penelope’s side were quiet and peaceful. But at the young Sinclair couple's home, it was a bit chaotic. Alexandra screamed the moment she saw her grandpa’s detached head. She could vividly remember the sight of his head when she was tied up by Penelope. Her body violently shook as the gift box dropped from her hands. Adrian rushed to her side to see what was wrong when he caught sight of a head in the box that was delivered. His eyes darkened. Although he had only seen him in pictures, Adrian could still recognize Augustine Bennett, the supposed founding father of Liss Real Estate.

"The court also grants a permanent restraining order. Vivienne Laurent is to have no contact with the minor, Aurelia Montclair, until such time as she can prove three years of consecutive sobriety. Furthermore, I am referring the evidence of financial fraud to the District Attorney for criminal prosecution." The gavel hit the desk. Crack. The sound echoed in my soul. It was over. The weight that had been crushing my chest for months simply vanished, replaced by a surge of pure, unadulterated joy. Vivienne let out a guttural, choked scream as court officers moved toward her. "You’ll regret this! You bought her! You bought it all!" she shrieked, her voice cracking as she was ushered toward the