Bound By The Past Novels & Stories

Was it him who thinks he can enter inside my world whenever he wants or was it me who doesn’t have the nerve to accept changes anymore? Past is supposed to stay in the past, we can’t just live reminiscing things that happened to us, things that ruined us. But these vague thoughts, they keep on replying those memories in a loop and the present we were supposed to live turns into a trauma of lifetime. The future we wait for, tapping our toes on the ground, playing with pen, eagerly roaming around, it becomes the past even the moment we try to catch it. and I am ruining my future one way or the other.

"You'll never be able to start writing a new chapter in your life's tale if you're stuck in the past, no matter how hard you try to forget. Each page has to be flipped over." “The past serves as my boundary and fence, Black.” "Yet, this is not a box made of silver that will remain forever. The fence is only made of steel, which is brittle and can be broken easily, and it very certainly has a key,” before Black withdrew in my mind, he left his last words, "Find the place where you are intended to be right now. What exactly are you meant to be doing?" I lowered my head and shut my eyes. As I did so, a picture of Veronica carrying Morgan emerged in my mind.

But I am with him. Cain reached for my hand, but this time, it was different. Not possession. Not control. Respect. Mutual understanding, fragile and dangerous. His touch didn’t crush; it steadied. The bond screamed, yes, but it was tethered by choice, not command. “Good,” Eamon said softly, almost too calmly. “You’ve remembered. But remember this, your past isn’t finished with you. You cannot outrun it, and you cannot fight it alone. The moment you think you’ve escaped…”

But it turned out, just one sentence from him was enough to tear that thin layer wide open again. I drew a deep breath, forcing myself to steady the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat. It felt like being trapped between two colliding worlds—the past full of fractures, and the present I had fought to hold together so I wouldn’t fall apart. His presence blurred everything, as though the boundary line I had drawn with such effort was fading away.

Agony bathed me whole once again and now I knew no matter what, I couldn't be free---from the past nor present and future. I was tied down again, but this time by the hands of my fucking mate.

Across the room Lucien shifts slightly but he doesn’t stand. We both want the same impossible thing. Each other. And yet... We can’t have it. The realisation settles slowly into my chest. We want each other but we can not forgive each other. We need each other but we can not escape what our families did. The cycle that destroyed our packs has trapped us inside it too. Two people bound together by fate. And separated by history. Dawn begins to creep slowly through the tall windows. Grey light spills across the floor. The storm clouds have started to break apart.

The weight of my past presses down on me, threatening to overwhelm my resolve. As I round a corner, I come face to face with a spectral figure from my past. It is a ghostly reflection of myself, filled with regrets and sorrows that I thought I had long buried. The figure reaches out to me with hands that tremble with unspoken truths, eyes filled with longing. “You can't escape your past,” the spectral figure whispers, their voice a haunting echo in the darkness. “Embrace it, or be forever lost in its shadows.”

That’s the balance we’ve been circling. Two whole people. Still evolving. Still carrying history. But no longer letting it steer the future unchecked. The past walks with us—but it doesn’t lead. And that feels like freedom.

She wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else entirely. “You’re too stubborn for your own good,” he murmured. “One day it’s going to get you killed.” Before she could respond, he stepped back abruptly, his usual stoic mask slipping back into place. Without another word, he walked away, leaving Amara standing there, her heart pounding and her mind swirling with too many thoughts to process. As she made her way back to the mansion, her phone buzzed again. Another text from the unknown number. *You should have listened. Now it’s too late.*

Elena couldn’t stop thinking about Tristan Kane. Even after she returned to the mansion, after she changed into comfortable clothes and tried to push the encounter out of her mind, his words clung to her. “You don’t belong in his world.” “You’re looking for a way out.” She had wanted freedom since the moment she was forced into this marriage. She had dreamed of escape. So why did it feel wrong to hear those words now? Why did she feel like she wasn’t trapped anymore?