Novelas y relatos de Bound Of Honor

“What was what?” “You didn’t feel that?” “I felt you bite me.” A small frown. “Why did you bite me?” “I’ve marked you.” He smoothed her hair back from her face. “You are mine now — properly, permanently. We’re bonded.” “Oh.” She absorbed this. “You could have warned me.” “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He pressed his lips gently to the mark, licking away the trace of blood, and felt her shiver. “We are bonded for life, Honor. I hope that’s all right.”

Even though they're all Criminals The end TBC Appreciation Thank you everyone that read my story , I'm very grateful for your support. kindly check my other books and be expecting the book two of bound .

"I'm starving. You ready to go in?" "Yeah, baby. Come on." I stopped, not taking another step. I wanted to be here. I wanted to see my friend. But I had to ensure he understood where the boundaries were. "No terms of endearment. This is purely platonic. I'm happily married, and at the end of today, I will still be happily married. Got it?" My straightforward tone shocked the shit out of both of us. But I'd meant it. I wasn't here to rekindle an old flame, and I damn sure won't lose my husband's trust over Gray Dearsley.

"Very observant. Yes I am standing on a binding circle because I knew you would try to hurt me and I am not stupid enough to face an angry hybrid without protection." "What does the circle do." "It prevents anyone bonded to another person from using violence within its boundaries. As long as I stay inside this circle you cannot touch me without risking damage to your bond with Thorne." I tested it by taking a step forward and immediately felt pain shoot through my chest like someone had stabbed me. The bond was screaming at me to stop and I could feel Thorne somewhere in the city feeling the same pain and probably wondering what I was doing. "You are a coward," I said.

❄️ “You turned law into armor.” Alex smiled faintly. “Not law. Action within law. And permission to exist without fear.” Then the alert returned—high priority, coded. Elias Ward. The bond stiffened, cold and precise. ❄️ You are exceeding bounds again. Alex didn’t flinch. “I am not exceeding. I am existing.” Brian placed a steady hand on his shoulder. ❄️ “And the bond agrees.” Alex allowed the hum to flow—not outward, not like a flare, but deep, connective, a reminder of presence.

Not enough to provoke but just enough to assert presence. “Then define your boundaries,” I said. The Entity’s gaze locked onto mine instantly. “Boundaries exist.” “Not abstractly,” I replied. “Operationally.” Failsafe pulsed again. “Cognitive layering detected. Multi-thread processing active.” Zara groaned softly. “Of course it is.” The Entity responded. “Boundary parameters forming.” “State them,” I said. “Engagement limited by constraint hierarchy. Individual integrity preserved unless systemic collapse threshold exceeded.” Jamal frowned immediately.

All lies now, because if loyalty existed, then my heart wouldn’t pound this violently while standing next to the man who’s trusted me more than anyone else. If honor mattered, then my body wouldn’t react so painfully beneath leather pants just from knowing she’s upstairs right now—maybe thinking about what happened between us earlier, maybe touching herself, imagining what came close but didn’t dare cross the line yet. It was wrong. So goddamn wrong. My best friend’s child. Off-limits since birth. Practically written in blood on the code every soldier obeyed without question, especially someone like me, whose entire identity was built upon obedience, control, and silence.

Like they'd assessed the situation and found it acceptable. Forty minutes in, Silas dropped back to ride beside me. I didn't look at him. "The wards activate the moment we cross the northern boundary marker," he said. "Stone post. White paint. You'll see it." "And after that?" "Anything inside the boundary is shielded from external sensing. Scent, sound, pulse." He paused. "You'll be able to breathe." "What do you want in return." "I told you. The child matters." "That's not an answer."

My father didn’t raise me to back down from any man—no matter how handsome he was. Momentarily taken aback, he laughed even harder displaying the deep indents on his cheeks. And there goes my ovaries! “It’s cute that you think you can intimidate me,” he began, his accent heavy. “But I’m the one making the bargains here.” He stepped closer, grasping my chin in a way that was both unsettling and oddly thrilling. Raising my head so our eyes locked, he continued, “Honoring OMERTA requires that I kill you for overhearing what you did, but I’m going to make you an offer.”

Just the charged air of broken magic and something waiting just beyond it. Ronan moved ahead of Elias, his senses stretched razor-thin. The ridge perimeter—a sacred boundary around their territory—was fractured. Not shattered, but peeled back. Like something had tested it with intent. “This wasn’t brute force,” Elias murmured, scanning the faint shimmer of lingering energy. “It was calculated.” Ronan crouched near the break. The grass here was scorched in a pattern—concentric rings, a glyph burned into the earth. Not natural. Not wolf.