Tethered Souls Novels & Stories

ARTEMIS POV I banged the door shut behind me, my chest rising and falling as I rested against the door. The picture of Aiden and that woman tangled together in the guest room was burned into my mind, an unending cycle that wouldn’t stop. “Wow,” I murmured, my tone trembling and bitter. “Just… wow.” I walked around the room, my hands shaking as rage and sorrow battled for control. A part of me felt like shouting until my throat was sore, to storm around the house and demand explanations. Yet another part of me—the part that still mattered—was too shattered to act.

Her mother forcibly took her eyes off the necklace she was looking at with admiration. one "Hande, that's beautiful. I never thought about it from your point of view. I wondered how you felt." Hande focused her eyes on the necklace as she held her mother's hand lovingly and smiled. "Maybe I think it's strange. I don't know. I think that those lifeless works have souls. Spirit, heart, language. As for how I feel, it may sound strange to you, but I felt love. The love of the man who made this necklace and the love of the one he loved when he gifted it to his beloved is the deepest part of my heart. I felt it deep inside."

They'd begun linking as their number grew, forming an intricate lacework inside her, the space between them slowly shrinking as he added to them each time. They surely almost equalled the number of her own, human cells now, and when they surpassed them - when she was finally more shadowsouled than she was human - she would likely be able to begin manipulating this darkness of her own. He was looking forward to finding out how she'd use it. They were all a little different in that sense, but destined shadow-soulmates always complemented each other perfectly.

Nate abruptly stopped reading, massaging his temples thinking that he was too mature to believe in such ridiculous tales; nevertheless he continued, hoping to find answers that could help shed some light on things he himself could not explain clearly. “It was said that all souls were set free to roam the earth on this holy night of the dead, returning to their eternal resting place at the crack of dawn, but a soul with a vengeance, a link or a chain bounding them to the land of the living may never find its way back into the gates of the afterlife…. Now what the hell does that mean? Are they saying a bunch of dead people usually wakes up on Peter Pak but if they have unfinished business they

The cosmic voice spoke, "Guardians, as you traverse the harmonies of souls, remember that every note, every connection, is a thread in the cosmic tapestry. Your journey is a dance with the souls that have shaped the symphony of existence." Hand in hand, Sasha and Alec stepped into the cosmic dance of souls, where the echoes of countless lives intertwined with their own. The astral gateway opened new vistas of understanding, and with each revelation, the guardians became a part of the timeless and harmonious melody that echoed through the cosmic expanse. As Sasha and Alec delved further into the cosmic dance of souls, the symphony around them intensified. Souls whispered their stories, and Al

Eyes that she would never forget. The girl took Abigail’s left hand to feel for a pulse when suddenly a bright light shone from their connection. The light opened Abigail’s third eye chakra and let in light and wonder. She felt plugged into some sort of power. A power that she had never felt before. The girl felt like an extension of Abigail as if they were connected not only in touch but in their soul.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Alpha. She holds the tether. And if she doesn’t break it herself, we will. This world has lingered in imbalance for too long. What once was sealed must now return.” I took a slow step forward. “What do you mean—tether?” The Warden raised his hand and, with a flick of his fingers, a blue light bloomed in the air between us. It pulsed like a heartbeat, then stretched and split, forming the image of a tree—its roots bleeding into the void, its branches burning in silver flames. “The realms were once one,” he said. “Before the wolves became their own gods, before the lines between the living and the dead were drawn with blood. The tether was severed. And so began the

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.

Not like this, at least! I hated them for spinning lies around me, for stealing my name and my work. If I had a chance at life again, I would never let them get away with it. I would make them pay. Suddenly, a beam of light broke through. I realized the restraints binding me had been undone. I closed my eyes, letting the sunlight wash over me, that faint warmth giving me a thread of comfort. When I opened them again, a familiar face filled my vision. His eyes widened, and I could see a red tint gradually climbing into them. "Why are you here, Cassidy?"

The writing is archaic but legible, detailed accounts that make my pulse quicken with hope. "'During the celestial alignment of the seventh month,'" Dane reads aloud, "'the barriers between realms weakened beyond previous measure, resulting in seventeen souls cast into the space between worlds. Traditional rescue methods proving inadequate, the pack council authorized use of the forbidden anchoring ritual, despite significant risk to the anchor volunteers.'" "Anchoring ritual," I repeat, studying the detailed diagrams that accompany the text. "Using people as... what, dimensional tethers?" "More than that," Dane continues reading. "'The anchor ritual requires volunteers bonded to the lost so