Bond Of Beasts Desires Novels & Stories

"And I'm yours. That's what the mate bond MEANS. You don't get to offer yourself to anyone else. You don't get to even PRETEND you would." Through the bond, I feel her emotions shifting—fear, defiance, and underneath, arousal. She's not afraid of me, not really. She's excited. My beast notices and purrs with dark satisfaction. "I wasn't actually going to..." she starts. "I know." I'm right in front of her now. "I felt it through the bond, felt your desperation, felt that you weren't really attracted to him. But that doesn't change what you tried. Doesn't change that you were willing to use your body to escape me."

"But now I need you to show me. Need you to prove that I'm the only one who gets to see you like this. The only one who gets to touch you, to claim you." My beast rises at her words, at the possession in her voice. Through our bond, desire spirals between us, building with each heartbeat. Power builds between us as I move closer, drawn by more than just the mate bond. This is everything - need and trust and absolute certainty in what we are to each other. "Always," I breathe against her skin. "Only you. Forever."

The breeze teased her hair, lifting strands and wrapping them around her throat like ethereal fingers, a mocking imitation of my own possessive urges. She was still, devastating in her quiet strength. Mine. The word echoed in my skull, primal and undeniable. The bond hit me like a drug—deep, primal, no longer just pain or panic but pure, aching need that roared through my blood, drowning every rational thought, every fear, every wall I’d painstakingly built. The beast inside didn’t give a fuck about strategy or weakness or the risks of letting her in. It saw its mate, alone and vulnerable, and demanded I claim her.

“I… I want it. I want… to bond fully with you.” A grin curved his lips, sharp and dangerous. “Good. Because this… this is more than sex. This is claiming. You mark me, I mark you. Every bite, every scratch, every kiss… it makes the bond stronger. Do you understand?” “Yes,” I whispered, heart hammering, body alive. “I… I understand.” He pressed closer, hands roaming possessively over my curves. Every touch made my breath catch. My wolf coiled tighter, surging with anticipation, desire, and instinct. He was mine. And I was his.

Yet here he was, teeth still aching with the imprint of her. His human teeth had no business marking her. His human mouth had no right claiming what only the Beast should touch—yet he’d done it anyway. A transgression that felt more intimate than ritual, more binding than blood-oaths. The Beast claimed by law of the Pact. This—this was claimed by choice, by impulse, by something dangerously close to desire. His grip tightened around her waist before he realised he was doing it. His fingers splayed, as if testing the reality of her, needing to feel the solid weight of flesh and bone to assure himself she hadn’t been some illusion conjured by his own starvation for novelty.

She saw a monster built out of choices. "Debes llevarla de vuelta. Inmediatamente." She said firmly. Zavier opened his eyes. (Translation: You must take her back. Immediately.) "No." he said. The word was calm. Absolute. Daisy recoiled as if struck. "No puedes quedarte con ella. No es una moneda de cambio. No forma parte de tu mundo." she said. (Translation: You cannot keep her. She is not a bargaining chip. She is not part of your world.)

The fresh mint pheromones mix perfectly with the cedar and tobacco already lingering in the room, and the combination creates a deep biological harmony. "I want you to bite me now, Dean," Beau whispers back to me, and he tilts his chin up to expose his neck. "I want to share my thoughts with you, and I want the pack bond to be whole before the sun comes up." The raw honesty in his voice pleases me, and I nod my head to show my full approval of his brave request. I look across the massive bed at Rhett, and the Northside Boss understands exactly what I need to happen next.

“I don’t know why. But I’ve served long enough to know that when Gorvane looks at someone the way he looks at you, it means one of two things: destruction, or something worse.” Kaerith’s fingers curled against the fabric of the dress. Her nails scraped the smooth silk. “I don’t want anything from him.” Madame Marita gave a dry smile. “That’s not the point.” She picked a stray curl from Kaerith’s shoulder. “The Beast doesn’t have affection. Not for his court. Not for his mate, Vythea. Not for his whores. And not for you. He takes what he wants, and when he’s done, there’s nothing left of who you were.”

“What did we just do?” The bond flares. Not gently. Not softly. With a pulse strong enough to bruise the air. I feel him. All of him. His heartbeat, new and feral. His fear—sharp and metallic. His desire, hot and instinctive. His grief, deep and unspoken. His rage—wolf-shaped and divine-touched. His love—terrifying in its totality. I suck in a breath. He feels me too. The bond mirrors that back at me like an echo.