Soulbound Book Novels & Stories

I needed answers from the past. I went to the library’s restricted wing, where most unwanted but powerful books were kept, I went to the ones I hadn’t read: The Binding of Souls Flames. It spoke of the Anima Gemina,not as a passive bond, but as a choice. Two souls must stand back-to-back in the face of annihilation and say, “Burn with me.” Not just once. But in the moment the Hollow strikes. That’s when the bond ignites. Not before and not after, but during the strike.

The book contained knowledge lost to time, secrets about the origins of their kind, forgotten magic, and hidden weaknesses that could turn the tide of war. Her fingers tightened around the quill as she underlined a particular passage. Blood ties can be severed, but bonds of the soul remain eternal. The words sent a shiver down her spine. She knew the significance of soul bonds, but the idea of them lingering even after severance intrigued and terrified her. It raised questions she wasn’t sure she wanted answers to.

Taking a seat on one of the stools, I opened it up and turned the pages to Lycanthropy. I had already learned about their powers and abilities from my previous read. So I skipped those pages as well, hunting for the answers Zeus refused to deliver himself but through this book. On the third chapter, the mention of soulmates caught my attention. Celebrated among the werewolf kind, soulmates are those rare individuals whose spirits are inextricably linked. They share an unbreakable bond that transcends time and distance, marked by profound emotions, telepathic connections, and a shared destiny.

It looked more like a journal or a collection of legends. I flipped through the pages, skipping over stories of old wars and pack disputes. Then, a word caught my eye. Moon-bound. My heart skipped a beat. I remembered hearing that word in whispers back at my old pack, but it was always treated like a myth. A fairy tale told to pups. I leaned closer, squinting at the faded ink. 'The Moon-bound are not born of blood alone, but of the Goddess’s direct blessing. They are the wolves who change the tide. Unlike the common wolf, a Moon-bound female wolf holds the key to the soul-bond. She does not just mate; she is the anchor.'

He’d been such a dick to her and he’d felt even more emasculated when she refused to take his credit card, claiming she could look after herself. Escape was Dominic’s high-end escort company and Faro had limited dealings with the books. Now that Eris was gone, he’d need the help and Sihana was the only one that had the expertise to help with the books. “Faro,” she said and he snapped out of his daydream.

I thought, "Dear God, if you're still willing to listen even if I have no white ribbon to make my wish, but on the account that I'd prayed to you and lit up the candle so sincerely many times in the past, please grant this final wish of mine. "I wish that I, Winter Brooke, will no longer have anything to do with him, Finnegan Churchill, for the rest of our lives, or even the next life if there is one."

But tonight, they felt like my only lifeline. I pulled out the first one, The Sacred Tether: Understanding Soul Bonds, and flipped through it quickly, scanning for anything on how to break a bond. My hands trembled as I turned the pages. “Severing a bond is rare…” “Dangerous…” “Often leads to emotional instability or permanent damage…” I slammed the book shut. “No. That can’t be all there is,” I muttered, tossing it onto the bed and grabbing another one. Dark Threads and Light: The Balance of Bonds.

Isabella said, stepping forward. "I could say the same of you," he rasped. "Though not many of us can." He knelt and set the bundle down gently, revealing what lay within. A tome. Bound in a leather that shimmered between charred black and ember red. The sigil on the cover pulsed faintly—a circle of flame intersected by a single sword. "The Songbook of the First Choir," Elias said. "It was buried beneath the reliquary. Protected by a binding no mortal should have been able to break."

Chapter 3 "Entice..." a deep, calming voice called me, but even when with eyes close, I knew it wasn't of George. Someone, with eyes so dark as midnight, lips so inviting, and gaze as feral as of a wild bear, whispered my name once more. I groaned when his rough fingertips stroke my arm, sending shivers down my spine in the most beautiful way I could possibly imagine. Something inside me purred, asking for more of the mysterious man.

Bobby raised his arms as celestial melodies built in Stralath's head. Panic warred with compliance as the sorcery tamed Stralath's need to fight. "I don't feel a thing, you taakin bastard." Cleona grinned. "You want me to kill you slow or quick?" Bobby lost his smile, and his lures disappeared instantly, retreating to safety. The singing stopped, and Stralath's knees almost caved in relief. "I guess your hypnotizing crap doesn't work on my species." Looking pleased with herself, Cleona advanced, and Bobby stumbled back. "What was your plan? To kill my friends and kidnap your fisheri buddy? Take her to your brother?"