Romans & histoires Binding 13 Audiobook

They both were. They all were. Suki sighed, “Okay. Three…” The men positioned themselves at her neck. “…Two…” They both summoned their fangs. With a hitched breath, she exhaled, “…One.” Their mouths landed on her neck, and they clamped down hard. Suki’s eyes widened, and she let out an audibly loud gasp as the pain of immense binding magic surged through her.

“It is. That's why not all people meet their bounds and not all people who meet their bounds marry them either.” “I hope I meet my bound,” Raf drawled his speech, eyes struggling to stay open. Anne could see that he was about to fall asleep, she slowed down her strokes on his hair and tried to stay still just until he fell asleep. “I'm sure you will.” Raf yawned. “But mother, is father your bound?” “No, he's not.” “I figured,” Raf slurred. Anne smiled, strokes slowing to a final stop. “Why would you say that?”

“Unbound don’t leave warnings unless they’re confident.” The sigil moved. I sucked in a breath as the imprint flared brighter, hollow reacting violently. A presence unfolded, and not corporeal, not fully here. A projection. The air thickened. Then a voice echoed through the clearing. “Null Blood.” It spoke my title like a challenge. “You anchor what should be free,” the voice continued, layered and distant. “You bind fragments that were never meant to kneel.” My jaw tightened. “They don’t kneel. They stabilize.”

Even commit a crime so ugly it would rot his soul from the inside out. Elias exhaled slowly. That would be their undoing. People like Ryan always believed love would protect them from consequence. And people like Helen always believed they were untouchable. Diana? She believed she was owed everything. All three of them were wrong. Elias walked to the desk and opened the folder containing every piece of evidence he had collected. Audio files. Transcripts. Time-stamped recordings. GPS confirmation. Statements. Photos. Even partial audio of Diana admitting Dakota’s location.

For one second, I thought my heart had stopped. Then it slammed against my ribs so violently that I was certain the person outside the archive would hear it through the shelves, through the darkness, through Kaelen's hand clamped over my mouth. The door handle turned again, slowly, deliberately, and every muscle in my body locked beneath his grip. Kaelen moved before the door opened, his massive frame forcing me deeper into the narrow darkness between the metal shelves until there was nowhere left for me to retreat. His chest pressed against mine, his shoulder blocking the thin strip of corridor light beneath the door, and his palm covered my mouth so completely that my breath burned hot aga

Only the sound of dripping water echoed through the temple. She glanced around. The walls were covered with runes ancient, jagged, almost alive. Some pulsed faintly when she looked at them too long. At the center of the room stood a black altar made of obsidian, carved in the shape of wings. Something about it made her chest tighten. Kael noticed her staring. "That altar once held the seal of the first Bloodbound." Her head snapped toward him. "You said those were legends." "They're not," he said. "This is where she died."

Sebastian had played her for a fool, using her to take down the feral vampire and now, he had turned on her. When she woke up, she found herself in a cold, dark room. She tried to move, but her hands and feet were bound tightly. She could feel the panic rising in her chest, but she refused to let it overwhelm her. She had to stay strong, she had to find a way out of this. As she struggled against her restraints, she heard footsteps approaching. The door opened and Sebastian stepped into the room, a smug smile on his face. "Good morning, my dear," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I trust you had a good nap?"

We were alike in that way too stubborn to back down, even with danger staring us in the face. Timmy tightened his grip around my waist, and I realized I was holding my breath. His chin rested on the top of my head, warm breath tangling in my hair. I could feel the tension in his rigid muscles. On the other side, Aaron and Midnight were frozen like statues, their eyes locked on the screen revealing the storm brewing inside them. The auctioneer began. A metallic chime echoed as the first bid came in. “Wolf013” placed it—an insane number and not even a real name. Goosebumps ran down my skin. The masked man in the front row leaned forward, intrigued. My heart pounded against my ribs.

Binding. Final. And without another word, I turned from them all, and walked into the woods. --- The forest welcomed me like it remembered who I was. Branches shifted above with the weight of old whispers. Every step forward was a memory pressing itself into flesh. I could feel him ahead—Striker. Not like a scent. Not like prey. Like gravity. I found him at the clearing by the blackroot tree, the one they used for binding rituals before we lost the old ways. His back was to me, bare-chested, his body mapped with scars like stories carved into hide. He didn’t turn when I approached.

The fire had burned down to a nest of pulsing coals, casting a deep, ruddy glow that painted everything in shades of blood and gold. My chest rose and fell in short, ragged bursts. Muscles still quivered from the leather bindings earlier, though the cords had been loosened just enough to allow movement, never enough to forget restraint. I knelt in the very center of the furs, knees spread wide, wrists resting palm-up on my thighs as though offering them again. The tether sang between us now, bright and insistent, every frantic heartbeat echoing straight into Thorne, Aurelius, and Cassian like a drum they alone could hear.