Blood Bound Novel Novels & Stories

She crossed to the window and looked out at the grounds below. "You are a Nyxara witch with an unsanctioned bond to an Alpha werewolf. Which is considerably more dangerous." "Unsanctioned," I repeated. "That's what we're calling it." "That is what it is, Isabella. A bond formed outside the bloodline, outside coven law, outside everything our family has built for six generations." She turned. Her eyes were steady. Careful. The eyes of a woman who loved me and had already decided that love required this.

His voice was hoarse, and a puddle of blood had started to congeal on the floor around him. Fresh blood dripped into the puddle, his head sagging forward. “I’ve told you everything I know.” “I don’t know, Anan. Have you?” Blood was streaked across Wilder’s face, his hands looked like he’d dipped them into a bucket of blood, his hair was matted with it. His toenails lay in a bloody heap as did the ten severed toes. “I mean, I haven’t even started on your hands yet.”

His expression was unreadable, but through the bond, Selene could feel him shock, denial, and underneath it all, a desperate, fragile hope. “This doesn’t change anything,” he said finally. “Even if you’re right, the pregnancy still-” “I’m not done.” Selene grabbed another text, this one older, written in a language she couldn’t read. “This is a grimoire. Morwenna pulled it for me. It’s about blood magic and curse theory. I can’t read most of it, but there’s a passage here…” She pointed to a section that had been translated in someone’s cramped handwriting. “…about curses that bind souls. It says they can only be broken by ‘the willing union of opposites: human and beast, life and death, love

She didn’t even flinch, she stretched on him grabbing a small sip from the wine of the bedside table, her eyes blown wide the pupils were dilated , and wide that they nearly swallowed her irises she's high. She looked very weird, and high on the poison she was feeding him. “Put the toy away, little ghost,” she sneered, her lips curling in disgust. “Did you think a gun would make you an Alpha? Did you think you would appear here to undo our love for each other.” She stepped closer to Kieran, leaning down on him as he look off her robe. “ The gas is already in his blood, he belongs to me , just waiting for his Rut to kick in.”

The pain is sharp but brief. "Press your wounds together." I press my bleeding palm against Alexei's. The moment our blood touches, something shifts. A spark. A connection forming. "Repeat after me," Konstantin intones. "I bind my blood to yours." "I bind my blood to yours," we say in unison. "I bind my fate to yours." "I bind my fate to yours." "I bind my soul to yours." "I bind my soul to yours." The connection strengthens. I can feel it. Like a thread spinning between us. Weaving through our blood. Our bones. Our very essence.

Then she stepped inside and did not leave until the lamps began their evening shift. She moved along the lower shelves first, reading spines without touching, noting which sections carried the wear of regular consultation. The oldest texts were in languages she did not know, their scripts circular and elegant, but she could read the organisational logic of the sections even without understanding their content. She had always been a better reader than anyone expected of her — wolfless girls were not invited to social hours in Ravenglade, which meant she had spent her childhood in the pack's archive while others spent theirs in more comfortable rooms, and she had used the time well. She worked