Tethered Book Novels & Stories

Not to them. I was listening to her. Her heartbeat. Steady but soft. Her breathing. The way she shifted every few minutes like she was trying not to lean too close to me. And the tether inside me. The one that had started pulling the moment I laid eyes on her. At first, I thought it was lust. The kind that burned hot and fast. But it never faded. It just grew heavier. Deeper. Like gravity shifting to align with her. And now? Now I could feel it in my bones.

Episode 11 Scout pov A sharp satisfaction curled through me as I replayed Bella’s expression from earlier in my office. That moment when frustration and anger had overtaken, her composure had been delicious to watch. She finally understood. She knew now, without question, that she was trapped. There was no way out, no trick she could use to slip free. She was tied to me, and I could see the weight of that sinking in, undeniable, and unshakable.

She hadn’t been mingling with us much lately, probably avoiding me and Edina both—for different reasons. “Hey,” she said suddenly, eyes flicking to Caelora. “I found what you were looking for.” Caelora’s entire posture straightened. “You did? Where?” Lira produced a leather-bound book from behind her back, worn and ancient, its edges gilded in silver. “It’s called The Aether Bond.” That name made my chest go tight. I stepped closer without even thinking. “What is that?” “It’s… a theory,” Caelora said, taking the book like it was holy. She flipped through the pages with careful fingers, scanning the faded script. “It explains how an Aether-bearer can deepen their bond with the source magic. M

The name sounded familiar—too familiar—but I brushed the thought aside. “Good luck. I’ll be outside when you’re finished.” The driver informed me, and I merely nodded. I sighed, adjusting my skirt before stepping into the house. Over time, I had dyed my hair black and straightened it. Today, I had tied it into a ponytail, wearing a long straight black skirt with a short-sleeved, button-up white shirt. I couldn't hide my tattoos, but they were small enough not to notice. I often wondered what they meant and why I had them, especially a particular one on my back. It felt surreal to read, “In this world of chaos, you're my peace.”

Half-lies dressed as divine law. But some… Some whispered truths even the spirits wanted buried. Rituals meant to protect bondmates in death. Soul-splitting spells. Memory locks. One passage made me stop: “When the tether is pulled too tight, the soul may slip between realms. Only an anchor may call her home.” An anchor. A tether. I read it again, my heartbeat spiking. What if… What if I could reach her? --- At dawn, I returned to her bedside. Her face was soft. Peaceful.

It was tightening. On both sides. And somewhere between hunter and captors — Between calculation and endurance — The second night began to close in. Slow. Deliberate. Unfinished.

“The other girls aren’t concerned about that.” “Well, I’m not like most other girls.” “You’re not?” He scoffed. “I’d say you are. Ordinary lips…” His hands moved gently over my lips. “An empty gaze…” His fingers brushed my hair back. “A neck…” Immediately, I pushed his hands away. “What’s that?” he asked. “A knot.” “A knot?” He raised a brow. “To show how twisted you are?” He laughed softly. I pushed him back. “To show how strong I am.”

Then, he went back to flipping through the old magazine. I crouched by the storage box and rummaged around, somehow pulling out an ancient, clunky phone. It was heavy as a brick and took forever to boot up, but it could still connect to the internet. At most, he could listen to music or read e-books to pass the time. I tossed the relic to Malcolm. He stared at it for a long while, speechless.

As she opened a drawer to retrieve a pen, her hand brushed against an old, dusty book tucked away in the corner—a relic from the past. Curiosity sparked, Jette pulled out the forgotten book, its weathered cover and faded pages bearing the weight of memories long tucked away. It was a journal, the pages filled with the handwritten entries of a younger Jette—a version of herself navigating the labyrinth of dreams, uncertainties, and the promise of a future intertwined with Drew.

As gorgeous as it all was, Elaina found herself going farther, to the end of the room, to a section of books that looked terribly old and for some odd reason appeared the most interesting. There were leather chairs in this part of the room as well, single high-backed ones the color of rich caramel. Reaching out, she let her fingers brush lightly over the tattered spines of a couple books, stopping as if by no control of her own on one. The name TREKAS was printed in letters so worn she could barely see them all. Elaina pulled that one from the shelf without a moment’s hesitation. Before opening it, as if knowing already that this was going to take some time, she’d backed up until she sank in