Binding 13 Characters Novels & Stories

The door shut behind him. Charollet slumped against the wall. Her chest heaved, and her fingers dug into the stone. The Rite of Moonbinding. She had read the term once in a decaying scroll stored deep in Darkfang’s southern archive, a place only scholars ever touched. It was not a ritual for power, but a binding that linked body to realm. It took the vessel and rewrote its soul. She was not a vessel. She was not a tether. She was not their salvation.

I hesitated for a beat, then asked, “What do you know about the binding of Velhara?” The color drained from her face in seconds. She dropped the scroll in her hands without even noticing. Her voice, when she spoke, was sharper than it had been all night. “That is not a word you should speak freely.” “What is it?” I asked, stepping closer. “It’s forbidden.” I didn’t back down. “Why?” She locked eyes with me. Her expression was tense. “Because it’s too powerful. No alpha is allowed to perform it. If you do, your life binds to the female you perform it with. You’d be tied to her. Answer to her. Always. And it’s stronger than the mate bond.”

"NO! You can't—can't do that! You can't—can't take away my—my choice! My ability to—to wait for Caden! To be there when—when he realizes his mistake!" "We can and we will. The binding begins—begins immediately." Alpha Marcus nodded to—to Council witch I hadn't noticed. Ancient woman who stepped forward with—with ritual components. "Emily Blackwood, you are hereby bound from—from interference with the Storm-Reed-Castellan mate bond. The binding—binding is absolute." The witch began chanting. Latin words I—I didn't understand but could feel—feel the power building. Magic rising. Supernatural force that would—would permanently prevent Emily from continuing her obsession.

The night air greeted me, charged with both anticipation and apprehension. Upon reaching the abandoned construction site, I ascended to the third floor, where the event hall was intended to be. A solitary space awaited, providing the perfect setting for the mysterious binding process. Seated in the middle of the desolate floor, I summoned the Supernatural Divine Godly Power System. Ping! "Host is required to bind with the System." Summoning courage, I commanded, "System, start the binding." Ping! Ping! "The System will bind with the Host's mind in 10 seconds."

My mind spun with thoughts of what could go wrong, but I couldn’t help feeling drawn towards him, towards the power and security he offers. I gripped my beer tightly, trying to process what Cal was asking of me. “What exactly does it mean to bind myself to you?” I asked, needing more information before making a decision. Leaning forward, a contemplative expression on his face, he explained, “It’s similar to the mate mark that wolves have. It signifies a deep, unbreakable connection between two individuals.” My heart raced at the thought of being so intimately tied to someone, but I quickly pushed it aside and focused on the practicalities. “But what about finding a second chance, mate? If my

Zin looked at me with a small grin, “First, I have to partake in your blood, just a few drops. This will allow me to bind us since you still have my blood running through your system. The binding will last for 24 hours, meanwhile, I will be able to cover your soul, as if you are truly bounded to me, utterly a pet, like a dog, or some say a puppet.” “Oh, hell no, there has to be another way!” Michael snickered from the door way, “Just let him finish Ayda.”

Dante did not move. The officiant smiled. “The rings.” Dante took my hand. He brushed my knuckles with his thumb so that the ring would slide onto my finger. “With this ring,” he said in a quiet voice, not for others in the room, but for me, “I bind myself to you. Not as ownership. As allegiance.” My fingers remained on his ring as I positioned it on his hand. “With this ring,” I said softly, “I stay.” The officiant drew his hands up. “By the authority vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

Stretching his arms, he started muttering incantations, making the wind danced ferociously with the trees, a reddish beam intercepting with them every now and then. Taking a deep breath, he wounded his wrist with his bare hands. It took a while before crimson blood peered from the slit, turning purple as the moonlight influenced its feature. In slow motion, the blood dripped to the baby’s lips with a puff of smoke, a pea-size flame issuing from her teeth for a millisecond before disappearing.