The First Binding Novels & Stories

Luna walked toward the crystal with trembling steps. She gently placed her hand against it. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "It has begun." Elara approached quietly. "What has?" Luna looked at her with sorrow-filled eyes. "The final countdown." A deep crack echoed beneath the sanctuary. Louder than any before. Far below the hidden city, one of the ancient chains binding the Devourer finally snapped. The sound echoed across the abyss. And from within the darkness came a slow, satisfied laugh. The first chain had fallen. Only eleven remained.

The old stone still pulsed with ancient power, It remembered. Finnick took my hands and for the first time, I saw fear in his eyes. Not for himself, not for me. He cut across both our palms and let the blood drip into the twin bowls of silver and coal. Then he drew the binding mark on my chest with shaking fingers and kissed the center of it. “I bind myself to your light,” he whispered. “And I anchor myself to your love,” I replied. The wind howled. The moon turned red. Then it was done.

“I’ll pay her two million dollars. But I want a legal document—a consent form, airtight—that makes it binding. After the payment, if she ever demands another cent, no matter the evidence she claims to have, I can sue her for double. I want it so tight she won’t be able to breathe through a loophole.” Michael was silent for a moment, then I heard the click of his pen. “Interesting. You want to flip the trap. Fine. It can be done. We’ll draft it as a settlement agreement. Payment for permanent release of claims. She signs, she’s bound. She violates it, you drag her to court and bleed her instead.”

So I can afford to bring another person with a clean soul into my chambers. "Then kneel." She kneels immediately. The council murmurs. Old voices, cloaked in centuries of secrets. I raise my hand, and their whispers die. "Begin the Rite." The Binding Initiation is an old one which burns quietly beneath one's skin. Three things are needed: blood, breath, and truth. First, blood. I offer mine willingly, cutting the palm of my hand and letting it drip into a bowl of onyx. Bella does the same. Her blood hisses as it touches mine. The bowl accepts the mixture. We both drink from it. Binding through shared loss.

And this binding ceremony will be the final piece to make that happen. We burst into the throne room, where everything is still, despite the war waging outside. We have a little time as long as my barrier holds, but there’s no telling how long that will be. Still, what’s about to happen here is sacred and ancient. Fae have been bound here for centuries, but I will be the first fae since Seraphira to be bound to Four. There’s no telling what will happen, but I know that everything is about to change implicitly.

"She would have hurt you. And the pup. Emily was—was beyond reason. Beyond control. The binding was—was necessary. Overdue, frankly. We should have—should have implemented it immediately after exile. Before—before she recruited informant. Before she continued—continued campaign from distance." "Will it really work? The binding? Will—will Emily really be unable to—to continue obsessing? To planning? To—to waiting for moment to strike?" "The binding is absolute. Any extended thought of—of you or Caden causes pain. Planning causes agony. Acting on obsession causes—causes complete incapacitation. Emily can't—can't maintain obsession without destroying herself through—through constant pain. Event

“You were hidden by your birth mother and father. Cloaked in spells so deep even the stars had a hard time finding you. Your father gave his life to bury your name and blood, hoping you would be kept safe until the right Alpha came to wake it.” Her eyes lifted to me then, not merely a seer speaking an old truth but a woman who had watched fate turn its wheel. There was no hurry in her gaze, only the heavy patience of someone who had seen too many lives folded into prophecy. “And you,” she said, and the sound of her voice made the chamber lean in, “are not merely his mate. You are the binding force. His anchor. His shield. Without you, he will burn too quickly. With you, he becomes the prophe

“By keeping you alive long enough to choose something different.” I laughed under my breath. “Look around you, Mother. Did I choose any of this?” She closed her eyes. “When the curse first manifested,” she said, “it wasn’t called that, it was called a binding at the time.” “A pact,” she continued. “Forged during the First Fracture, when wolves were tearing themselves apart over power they didn’t understand. There were… forces older than the packs, the forest wasn’t just land back then.” I had grown up on stories like this, half history and half warning but I just never believed they were meant to be literal.

Her magic was syncing with his now, their bond woven not just by fate, but by choice. Talia raised her voice, finishing the final line of the binding spell. Her body trembled with the effort, but she didn’t falter. The creature screamed again as the spell took root. The smoke coiled tighter, losing shape. Its wings flickered. “No!” it roared. “You are mine—mine!” With a final surge of energy, the circle of runes erupted in flame, sealing the Hollowed One in a blaze of ancient power. Then… silence. The ground stopped shaking. The wind died.

He just studied me, as if waiting for me to take it back. “You’re sure?” he asked finally, his voice quiet but firm. “Yes,” I said, even though fear curled in my stomach. “Let’s begin.” He nodded slowly, closing the book and standing to his full height. “Very well. We start with binding. Before you learn to unbind anything, you must understand the first half of the process.” I followed him out of the room and through a narrow path behind his cottage. It was quiet out here, too quiet. Not even the wind dared to rustle the leaves.