The First Binding Novels & Stories

The fragments came faster now, jagged enough to draw breath from me in broken pieces. “The first bond is not surrender,” my mother said quickly, urgently, as if she could feel the memories cutting at me too. “It is rule. You do not open yourself to the hunger. You step into the circle and command it to know you are not an empty vessel. You bind it to your will before it binds you to its appetite.” My mouth had gone dry. “And if I fail?” My mother did not lie to me this time. “Then it will wear your face,” she whispered.

[University of Sydney — Library] Mira remained inside the library long after lunchtime had passed. She had spent almost her entire break sitting at one of the study desks, staring blankly at the open book in front of her barely turning the pages. Finally, she sat up with a heavy sigh, her fingers running through her hair as her thoughts drifted back to the disaster from earlier that morning. As the leader of her group, Mira was responsible for managing their project. Their assignment was to build a secure web application—one that featured user authentication, ballot casting, and real-time result tabulation.

"The adrenaline. The theft. Stealing thirty million dollars from your own blood line while the government searches the front door." Julian’s hands came up, resting on Gabriel’s broad shoulders. His fingers curled tightly into the fabric of Gabriel’s dark suit jacket. "I like winning, Gabriel." "You like being filthy," Gabriel corrected growlingly, sliding his hands up Julian's thighs, his broad palms spreading wide, pushing Julian's knees further apart until Julian was fully open to him in the chair. "You like knowing that every move you make, every document you sign, binds you closer to me." Julian let out a sharp, breathless gasp as Gabriel’s hand slid between his legs, his thick palm cupp

She had known the shape of it was going to be complicated and she had prepared for complicated, but there was a difference between the abstract preparation and the specific reality of what Petra had just laid out Caius in the sublevel, in the room where the binding lived, performing an act that would permanently alter the foundation of everything he'd been built to inherit. "There's a timing constraint," Petra said. "The documentation refers to a window, a period when the binding is at its most receptive to severance. It's tied to the intake cycle. The binding's anchor is most accessible in the days immediately preceding a new selection, when the mechanism is active and orienting toward its

“You gave me the name that cursed me.” The First Wolf did not blink. “Say something,” the Bonebinder hissed. “You let them bury me. You let the packs call me traitor. All I wanted was your strength—your purity!” The First Wolf stepped once more, closing the space. The Bonebinder roared and lunged. It happened in less than a breath. The First Wolf met the Bonebinder mid-strike, and without rage or ceremony, crushed his throat with a single movement. The chains unraveled. The fire died. The body crumpled.

Maelin stepped forward from the edge of the circle, her face masked in shadows, robes billowing like smoke. "Tonight, the Binding Rite begins," she intoned, her voice echoing unnaturally. "One truth. One lie. Each mate must speak both to the soul they are bound to. And the bond itself—ancient and unrelenting—will decide who remains." A tremor passed through Veyra. She wasn't sure if it was fear or something older, deeper—some primal instinct warning her this would change everything. Rune stepped forward first. The gamma looked calm, but his clenched jaw betrayed him. His silver eyes met hers, steady.

“Listen to me. No matter what happens next—do not let go of the bond.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Don’t you dare make this a goodbye.” “It’s not,” I said fiercely. “It’s a stand.” The light surged again. The ancestors raised their hands. And the binding began.

A humorless laugh escapes me, sharp and edged with something dangerously close to hysteria as I drag a hand through my hair, shaking my head slightly as the realization settles into something cold and absolute. “Well,” I mutter under my breath, the words slipping out before I can stop them, “that’s just perfect.” Because this— This isn’t just a bond. This is worse. Far worse. “A soul bind,” I say quietly. Dangerous. Ancient. Rare. And nearly impossible to break once it takes hold. Especially in the early stages. Especially now. My breath steadies slowly as I force myself to think past the initial shock, past the frustration, past the very real, very justified anger building in my chest as I

Until it reached back through time to the moment the Moon Goddess first created the binding. And then— The three of them changed. Not physically. But essentially. Their forms became partially translucent. Existing in multiple states simultaneously. Mortal but also divine. Physical but also eternal. “We see it now,” they spoke in perfect unison. “The true nature of the binding. Not a prison. A transformation. The First Darkness isn’t evil. It’s potential. Raw creation waiting to be shaped.”

“I am called Mahrun. The tides gave me dreams. The bones gave me voice. And the blood… it sings of chains.” Clara knelt before him. “Then we need your help. There’s something coming. Something ancient.” Mahrun’s head tilted. “It’s already here. It rides the wind between breaths. It crawls through salt and root. It sings through those who forgot themselves.” Emily stepped beside Clara, eyes fixed on the boy. “Can you help us bind it again?” Mahrun blinked slowly. “Binding is a mercy. You’ll need something crueler. You’ll need to remember what the First One sacrificed.”