Bloodbound Band Novels & Stories

“When I drew my first breath under the Blood Moon, the Moon Goddess marked me with light. I became the Moonbound, and through me, her children obeyed. Yet the power was never mine… it flowed through me, not from me. The bond is fragile, woven not through strength but through lineage. When my blood ceases, the bond shall shatter, and the four will slumber in anguish until my blood returns to breathe beneath her gaze once more. They shall awaken when the lost blood walks under a false moon, and the Moonbound trembles with divided hearts. Only she—the Daughter of the Moonbound—shall call them by name, and they shall answer. Her voice shall soothe their rage; her light shall mend their broken sp

Instead, she stood to help me get dressed. “You know, you’re lucky. If the Binding hadn’t forced your body to compensate for shock, you might have lost them.” “The Binding?” I asked, obviously confused. She nodded as she tucked me under the white thin sheet of my exam bed. “The Binding does a lot more than what the original Accord members thought. I don’t know where it comes from. It wasn’t addressed back then and I never asked. The first ones are long dead. It’s old magic. Older than vampires. I don’t fully understand it. But I have seen it before. It relies on the bond to provide sustenance. Did you feel it while you were separated?”

The air thickened, humming with raw, ancient power. And then a voice, not Alejandro’s, rolled across the clearing, layered with fire and echo, so vast that even the air seemed to bow beneath it. “You call them monsters,” the voice thundered, both flame and shadow. “But they are not born, they are bound.” Every member of the Haven froze. The power in that voice was nothing like their Alpha’s usual control. It was older, heavier, terrifying and divine all at once. “The souls of the slain, witches, vampires, wolves, and humans, trapped in the twilight between life and death. The forbidden art that commands them is Sanguis Vinculum, the Blood Binding.”

“We name this seam and close it. You have no right.” The Spirit smiled and spoke like wind through hollow wood. “You name nothing, little man. You think your stones will bind what does not want binding?” “You are wrong,” I answered. “We bind what feeds on our fear.” We acted fast. Bram struck the air with the staff and the binders sang. The bones on the cord rattled. The shadow recoiled like a dog at a stone. It hissed and then it tried to step back through the seam.

“By him.” Liora’s jaw tensed. Maren’s voice softened slightly. “Liora… there’s fear now. Real fear. The rogues are pressing harder along the borders. Elias is preparing a formal alliance with Shadowclaw—joint patrols, supply exchanges. It’s a delicate time.” “I didn’t choose the bond.” “No. But you’re tangled in it, whether you like it or not.” Maren stepped closer, her tone low. “I’ve defended you more times than I can count. I’ll keep doing it. But you need to give me something to work with. Appear strong. Controlled. Make them see the bond doesn’t own you.”

"The ones who swore their lives to the truth. To protect the bloodline. The blood oath isn’t just a story it’s a bond. It’s magic, and it's tied to your very soul." I shook my head. This was too much. "I don’t understand. I just want to go back." Her smile faded a little. "You will. But you needed to see this first. The bond has awakened in you. It’ll only grow stronger from now on. The visions, the voices… they’ll return. You need to learn to control it. Or it will consume you." "Visions? Voices?" "The past lives of the Oathed," she said softly. "They live in you now."

I murmured, striking out blindly as my heels slammed the earth. “Let me go!” Easy, Andronika,a deep voice whispered from behind me. A voice I recognized, as I turned to look at him, his face was a blur. “Tristan?” His name stuck in my throat, my mouth dry as sand and my tongue thick. The poultice is wearing off, he replied by way of answer. “You’ll see soon enough, though you might wish otherwise when the pain returns.” He lifted his head. Tristan mindlink Seraphina the pack healer telling her it’s a burn.” He paused. “Thor’s fire.” Then in a tone as harsh as frost, a woman said, “Why did you hurt her, you cursed fool?

And something in her gut something primal told her Kael wasn’t the only danger looming tonight. --- The chanting stopped. A hush fell over the clearing, sharp and sudden. The Blood Moon Binding was about to begin. Kael stepped forward, his long black coat brushing the grass. The crowd watched as he moved like he already owned the ground beneath him, like he already owned her. Lyra took a breath, steadying herself, lifting her chin so no one would see the crack in her resolve. The Elder of Stormfang, a withered wolf with scar-lined hands, began the ancient words that would bind Lyra to Kael not just in promise, but in blood, in soul, in pack magic.

Heart pounding against heart. The final charge was coming. And whatever happened next would either break them forever or bind them in ways neither could escape.

But as I closed my eyes, a distant sound pulled me back to reality. The clatter of armored boots echoed through the stone corridors, and I froze. Tristan’s troops were returning, but it was far too soon. My heart quickened with a mix of anticipation and dread. Could it be that they had found Fiona? A surge of emotions, both hope and despair, gripped my heart.