Romans & histoires Bound Wachowski

“He just wants you to end up in safe hands. I’ll say he’s doing his duty. You’re so lucky to have him as a brother. He cares so much for you.” “Yes, I know.” She rolled her eyes. “And you’re so darn lucky to have him as your boyfriend.” Her statement made Annie blush. They haven’t made it official. She knew he liked her and so did she but she could not define their status right now especially when they just lost their baby. “So, my brother told me about your cosmetic line which you will be launching soon,” Elaina stated. “I don’t know about that,” Annie responded. Elaina took Annie’s hand in hers. She understood Annie’s point. She just lost a child and was unsure of moving forward or when to

- Do you have any medicine in your bag? — I hope he's better. - With great promptness, Catherine opened her backpack, and right in the front pocket, she had a small black pouch with a kitty face. Inside, it was almost like a pharmacy. Since Miguel was taller, he looked at it from a privileged perspective. - How many kilos do you weigh? "Does it matter?" He asked rigidly. "Yes, if you weigh more than 100kg, I'll give you two doses because I only have a few grams here."

“But I will promise you this: no one will touch you and leave.” “That sounds like a threat,” I said, because his favorite language had always been threat-turned-protection. “It’s a vow,” he corrected, eyes on my face. Up close, his features seemed less statuesque and more human; the lines at the corner of his mouth were new and real. “I’ll make sure you have space to choose. Even if I have to break the hands that try to take it from you.” I should have stepped away then, declared my independence, and my refusal to be rewritten by violence. Instead my fingers found his sleeve, knotting into silk, and I let myself be anchored by his presence for one ragged second.

The camera panned once like a lazy predator, capturing the space we occupied together and storing it. She wrapped her fingers around my wrist then — not in surrender but to test resistance, and that move pleased me as much as her defiance. It told me more than the most elaborate trap. Her touch measured me back, and I recorded that metric: how much she risked to feel a boundary. “You’ll learn to like being seen,” I murmured—not a promise but an instruction. The sentence carried the certainty of a man who reads patterns and expects them to repeat. I meant it to be a provocation; I also meant it to be true as a prediction I was keen to prove.

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.

I nodded, tasting the bitter truth I didn’t want to speak. Vincent lifted my wrist, guiding it to a leather ring bolted to the wall. “This is for restraint,” he said. “Nothing happens without consent. Technically.” My skin prickled. He released my arm and walked over to a red velvet bench in the corner. “This is for discipline,” his voice low and calm. My throat went dry. That was the reality waiting for me. Vincent came back behind me, his breath warm at my neck. “I’m getting you out,” he said, and for the first time, his voice held tension. Urgency. “But until then... you need to play along.”

With a swift motion, she conjured a spell that sent the witch crashing to the ground. The witch struggled to rise, but Nova was relentless. She pinned the witch down, her eyes blazing with fury. "You used me, controlled me, and manipulated me. But I'm done." The witch's face contorted with rage, but Nova's power was too strong. She bound the witch, rendering her helpless. As the witch's struggles ceased, Nova rushed to me, tears streaming down her face. "Selene, I'm so sorry. I didn't know what was happening to me."

He looked as shell shocked as I was and I reminded myself that he was as much the enemy as his father was. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the three. My vengeance would continue as planned, and Zane would go down with his father. My name is Aya Jacobs and I'm the machete of Justice on all who wronged me. I won't stop till they're all six feet under.

The room holds its breath. "Aria Moretti is the new head of the merged Moretti-Russo empire. Luca Moretti serves as her enforcer and second-in-command. Viktor Russo is stripped of all power and will be held under house arrest." The room explodes. Cheering from some. Angry shouts from others. Chaos. I stand in the center of it all, trying to breathe. Trying to process. I won. I actually won. Luca pulls me into his arms, whispering in my ear. "You did it."

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely. We've seen it too many times." I felt the weight of their concern, and underneath it, their fear. They weren't wrong to be afraid. I could feel the potential in the bonds, the way I could influence the wolves connected to me if I chose to. It would be easy to abuse. "I'll accept monitoring," I said finally. "But not restrictions. The bonds weren't created through ambition. They were created through sacrifice. I won't dishonor that by treating them as tools of power." The Council members exchanged glances. Finally, Mordecai nodded. "A compromise. You accept a Council observer, someone who will report on the bonds' development. In exchange, we acknowledge y