Bound By The Past Novels & Stories

The pain she was feeling was suffocating her. "Freya used to stay here. That was Aunt Madeline's, that was Finn's..." Tears gathered in her eyes and her voice broke. "That belonged to my parents." Now the tears streamed down and Raziel reached to hold her. "This house is filled with the memory of everyone I have loved that had died. They are dead. All of them." "Luciana, Luciana listen..." Luciana fought against him, hitting his chest. He then left her. But in the next moment, he pulled her into his embrace.

If you hold onto your past ,judge your future and leave the chance because you feel like history is going to repeat itself then you will live regretting your decision for the rest of your life. William still somewhere blames himself for mom's death but there was nothing he could have done. Jonathan had her captivated and we both were tied to the chairs. I hated him for what he had done to me, to us but it was never an option of staying with us together. I had started to let go of my past and forgave William. You can not punish a person who is punishing himself and bearing the baggage of something that was not his fault.

But now, she could no longer run away from her destiny. *l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l*

I sit beside him and take his hand. “The Loom is showing me futures,” I say. “But none of them are fixed.” “And the past?” “Not mine. Not yet. But I feel it pulling too.” “Then what do we do?” “We hold together.” “And then?”“We burn forward.”

Fractionally shorter than the ones before it, fractionally closer to stopping without stopping. Then he was past me. Continuing down the corridor with the same unhurried certainty as always. I stayed against the wall. Listened to his footsteps until they turned the corner at the far end and disappeared. Then I stood there for a while longer. My right hand was warm again. I pressed it flat against the wall and felt the cold stone against my palm and thought about the word the elder had used. Binding. The ritual was called a binding. Something that held. Something you couldn’t undo by deciding you wanted to.

All of it continued without pause, indifferent, while something I had carried for five years without naming it shifted underneath me. "The bond only works one direction." Lucien leaned forward, both forearms on the table now, the girl entirely forgotten. "You don't feel it for the wrong person. It's not preference, it's not something you talked yourself into, it's not confusion — it's biological. Absolute." He spread his hands slightly. "If you feel nothing for Isabella and everything for Irabella, there's no ambiguity left in that sentence." I said nothing. My mind had gone somewhere I hadn't let it go in five years.

The city stretched out below us, twinkling and unaware of the chaos inside our bubble. “You never talk about your past,” I said. “Why?” His jaw flexed. “Because some things don’t deserve to be remembered” he coldly said. “Try me” I persuaded him. A beat passed. Then he spoke. “When I was seventeen, my mother was murdered. Right in front of me.” I sucked in a breath. “How did it happen??”

She did not force the contact; she simply anchored me. "You made a mistake," she whispered. "A terrible one. But guilt will not change the past, Killian. It only steals the present." Silence stretched between us. A ripple passed through the surface of the pool, and suddenly, I realized I was shaking. Not a visible tremor, but a deep, internal vibration, as if the foundations of the wall I had built around my heart were finally cracking. Jade stood up. I frowned, confused by the sudden distance, but before I could speak, she moved.