Thrice Bound Chest Novels & Stories

“I am allowed to.” ************** I was standing behind Dante while the seamstress adjusted the fabric at my waist. “Breathe,” he murmured near my ear. “You are holding your breath.” “I’m being pinned like an exhibit,” I said quietly. “Breathing feels optional.” “You’re doing well,” he said. “She is almost finished.” The seamstress smiled politely but said nothing; her hands moved with professional speed. I could hear the faint shift of boots outside the room. Guards rotating. Someone is always watching.

“I hate you.” “Good,” he said simply, the word a blade sliding across my chest. “Hate binds tighter than love ever could.” The words sank into me, venomous, intoxicating, leaving a hollow ache that stretched deep into my bones. I pressed myself against the cold car door, desperate to carve out space between us. But there was no space. Not in this car. Not in this game. Not in this twisted tether that tied us together with invisible chains. Silence fell after that, heavy, suffocating. My chest ached with unshed words, with fury unspent. I wanted to hurt him, to make him bleed as I did, to show him what it felt like to be trapped, terrified, alive only for someone else.

The others stayed, weapons still raised, ready to strike if I gave the command or if Darius broke free. I managed to pin Darius face-down, using all my strength and weight to hold him. But he was impossibly strong, bucking and writhing beneath me. "The binding circle," I gasped to the remaining warriors. "In the northeast corner. There are ritual supplies. Bring them here!" They scrambled to obey, returning with bags of salt, chalk, and vials of what looked like blood. I'd seen Morgana use these materials before for containment spells. "Draw a circle," I commanded. "Ten feet wide. Perfect circumference. Hurry!"

He stepped further, his gaze fixated on the spot, right above her left breast. "What are you doing?" Serena asked, panic rising in her eyes. "That mark? You have always had it?" He whispered. It took her a while to understand what he was talking about. He was talking about the white crescent-shaped birthmark on her chest. "Yes...I have always had it....why?" He looked down and smiled, "nothing, let us return now. Your dress has been destroyed. So, let's shift as wolves and go back. It will also give you some practice."

"Can you show me without touching my chest?" He said nothing, but pointed at her chest above her heart. When she lifted her hand to pull the dress down herself, she noticed him avert his gaze with reddened cheeks on his face. Catherine giggled a little before looking down at the 'mark' on her chest. It was bright red, matching Gunther's eyes, and looked similar to a traditional Chinese Dragon. Its form curled up on the top of her left breast as though it were asleep. What made it even more beautiful was the glowing white that seemed to emanate when his hand drew nearer the intricate design.

She didn’t expect it perhaps. I drew closer to her, and gave her the torch. Then, I bent down a little for her to fall on my arms. She did. I lifted her with quite an amount of strength. Her weight was significant. She held the torchlight with her right hand, and her left hand was around my neck. Her left titty pressed against my chest. It was pleasantly soft. The feeling from that friction was awesome, but I didn’t allow it to interrupt my concentration. The current was turbulent, and the ground was slippery so loosing my concentration would result in something unimaginably bad.

The connection has to work like that. “Kole!” My voice echoes. If his ears can’t hear me, I hope that at least his heart does. Maybe his soul will know I’m here, desperate to find him. We’re mates. I can’t lose him forever. It’s impossible, right? Whatever brought us together the first time has to bring us together again. I should get more than one shot at being with him. And this time, I won’t waste it. “Kole!” “Did you really forget about Troy so quickly?” Heather asks, as she steps out from behind a huge boulder with her friends Jade and Carissa by her side.

He put his palms together and chanted the words he knew would bring the goddess, shouting her name at this time of the night would not do him any good he didn’t want any unnecessary attention neither did he want the goddess blasting him with her powers against the wall again. As he chanted he felt a warmth in his chest, no cold or hot air blew, just a warmth that turned hotter in his chest and the more he chanted the more his heat increased until his heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest. He stopped chanting and gasped, holding his chest in his hands as his breath came out heavy and thick. He tried to move his lips to continue with the chant but they would not move, the ski

Her spine straight, her chin high, but her breathing betrayed her. “Now you’ve seen it,” she said. “Does it scare you?” His hand came to her jaw—slowly, deliberately—tilting her chin up just enough to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed the edge of her lip, soft, controlled. “No,” he murmured. “It tempts me.” The words sent a jolt through her, right to the center of everything that ached. Her hand caught his wrist, not to pull it away—but to hold it there. Like she needed to anchor herself.

Damon last: "And you, Damon, my love and fire, eternal." The power surged as the bonds connected, forming a circle that included all four of us—three brothers and me, defying the single-bond rule. The triplets amplified it, their divine energy sealing the weave with unbreakable strength. Light exploded outward, washing over the pack, a wave of warmth that made wolves howl in unison. The elders staggered back; even Lady Valeria bowed her head deeper. "It's done," I whispered, feeling the eternal bind settle like a warm cloak. No severing ties. No choosing one. All three, forever.