Psyche Knot Novels & Stories

the pain on my nape is giving me a bad pounding on the head. I rest my head on his chest while he cradles me out of the facility. I close my eyes and on a whim, I fell unconscious. Dear readers What do you think of the chapter? please comment down below

We created the First Pattern together—then tore it apart. The trees around them sighed, as if confirming his words. The silent self within the star-circle did not speak but nodded once, her hands clasped over her chest as if bracing for what came next. The knot in Elthara’s hands began to float, drifting toward the threadlight figure as threads loosened from its core, dancing in the air like embers remembering their fire. You unmade me, he said. To stop what we became. But the knot was not just a prison. It was a promise.

How psychotic can someone be to conjure things in their mind like this? “You were wrong, I left because you hurt me. Scar’s jaw tightened and he picked up the gun from the table. My fingers hurt from trying to untie the knot he tied. The knot was hard but I had done it It felt loose, and soon enough, I'd push through it. I watched his hands while he moved. He was not careful with the gun; he set it down, picked it up, and continued to pace about. The strap of the rope around my waist cut into my skin when I shifted to get a better angle to twist the rope.

She was wearing a silk robe and holding a tablet, looking like she had been awake for hours plotting her next social move. "You need to wear the blue tie," Helene said without looking up from her screen. "I'm not wearing a tie." She finally looked at me and sighed. "Dante, please. It is your first day at Cross Industries. You need to look like you belong there." "I don't belong there. Harlan forced me into this job so he could keep an eye on me." "Harlan gave you an opportunity," she corrected sharply. "Do not throw it away just because you want to be stubborn. You have a seat at the table now. All you have to do is play nice."

Distress tears through my heart, and I connect with one delicate finger. As I connect with his chest, I'm unexpectedly wrapped in voices. Peculiar sounds involve my contemplations and my psyche. There is one overpowering blast resonating, so boisterous and cold that it makes me shudder. KILL, it requests over and over, similar to the pounding of a drum. My faculties are overburdened with this one order.

Magically. The knot pulsed like a parasite. Feeding. Twisting. Controlling. The dragon cried out. "I can't..." "Please..." "Make it stop..." Maya reached toward the knot instinctively. The instant her consciousness brushed it… Agony exploded through her mind. Hatred. Greed. Violence. A voice. Unknown. Cruel. "Burn them." "Destroy." "Obey." Maya gasped aloud. The knot wasn't merely controlling the dragon. It whispered constantly. Never stopping. Never allowing peace.

Smack in the middle of the page is an article titled 'The Knot: Myth or Reality? I blink at the screen, my brain tripping over the words. 'The Knot - Rumoured to be a unique feature of male werewolves in both folklore and popular fiction, the knot is said to form at the base of…' Nope. I force my eyes away and scroll the mouse until I hit the bottom of the page. This is stupid. That is just a weird site for people who dream about shirtless wolf-men claiming them under a full moon. It's got nothing to do with Thorne. Nothing to do with me.

It made me angry that it helped. I practised knots in the hush. Bowline. Sheet bend. Two half hitches and a stopper that wouldn’t slip if shame begged. Rope rasped against rope in a rhythm that felt like prayer. The moon laid a road on the water, and I walked it with my eyes because feet weren’t allowed. Peace lived here in the work after the work, in the honest sting of salt and the way the sea didn’t lie about what it wanted. I hadn’t felt that since a barrel had tried to teach me how to breathe in the dark.

"That sounds nice." "Yea.. I could feel his heartbeat so closely. It was fast. But it calmed me down. I think...that's when I found out I too, had feelings for him." "Oh. You like him?" I chuckled. "Right? I like my own target. I like a psycho. I..like a killer." "I don't think there's anything wrong with that." "What do you mean?" "A psycho is a psycho for a reason. There's must've been a trigger for that. He was once normal, you know?"

I press my lips together tightly so I don’t cry out in pleasure with my own release and wait for Gideon’s knot to latch onto me. “Shit, sorry, Luna.” I barely hear Brandon as I hold my breath. Gideon is sweating like a melting man above me but no matter how long I wait, the stretch from his knot doesn’t come. I rock my exhausted hips against him in an effort to get his knot to come out but Gideon just sighs with contentment and rolls himself to the side, so we’re both laid on our backs and looking up at the ceiling. I can’t quite catch my breath; my legs seem to be stuck to the damp bedsheets. I should be completely satisfied but all I can think about is the knot that didn’t come. It terrifi