Thrice Bound Chest Novels & Stories

Not wraiths. Memories. The stone whispered to her. Names she’d never heard, faces she didn’t know—but somehow recognized. The Bloodbound before her. The cursed line she now wore on her finger. At the bottom, a massive chamber yawned open, its heart glowing faintly red. And in the center? A coffin. Carved from obsidian. Wrapped in chains. Alya froze. “Is that…?” Lucien’s voice was low. Dreadful. “That’s what’s been calling to you.”

And my chest…my cursed, broken chest blazed with the bond so strongly I thought it would tear me apart. She had come. The Moonblood had come.

She was panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her breath coming in soft, desperate gasps that only fueled the fire burning in me. Her nightwear had gotten wet—probably from the water she spilled—and the thin fabric clung to her curves, her hardened nipples brushing against my bare chest through the fabric. The sight of her like this, breathless and trembling, was driving me insane. I could feel her heartbeat thundering under my palm where I held her, and every small movement of her body against mine was pure torture.

He clutched his chest with both hands, his face turning ghostly white as a jet-black mark—a stylized, burning chain—materialized through his leather vest, glowing directly over his heart. “Buck! What's happening?!” I panicked, wrapping my arms around his waist as his knees buckled. Buck looked down at his chest in utter horror, his breathing coming in ragged, shallow gasps. “Athena... my... my chest... it feels like... liquid iron...” Gerard smiled wider, taking a slow, triumphant step closer. “The mate bond. The sacred, unbreakable tether between the Absolute Alpha and her chosen mate.” My heart stopped. “What did you do to him?!”

I felt like a door with no lock—one that had already been opened. Angela nodded toward the staircase. “If you’re going to face him, you’ll need something stronger than prophecy.” She crossed to the shelves and pulled down a heavy tome bound in lunar leather. The pages flipped themselves, stopping on a symbol I hadn’t seen before—a triangle of flames surrounding a heart. “This is a binding glyph,” she said. “It was used during the Flame Wars to forge trust between allies… or rivals. But it only works if both parties allow it.” “You want me to bind myself to Thorne?” “I want you to survive him.” The chamber pulsed again.

Jenny’s body trembled as she crouched behind the broken pew. The sound of footsteps echoed through the church, slow and deliberate. She could feel Ethan’s grip tighten on her wrist, his breath warm against her ear. Whoever had entered was searching for them. Her heart pounded so hard she feared it would give them away. The steps moved closer. Ethan pressed his lips near her ear. “Stay quiet,” he whispered. Jenny barely nodded. The silence stretched, thick with tension. Then, just as suddenly as they had entered, the footsteps retreated. The heavy church doors creaked shut, leaving behind an eerie stillness.

After walking for a while, she sat on the floor, her back against the wall. She stayed like that for only a few seconds before going back to the bed. She rested her head on his chest to check for his heart beat, but she still heard nothing. Her heart sank to her stomach, and she reached to clutch her own chest. Terror gripped her so hard, she felt like it would fall off.

And it was these tales, wrapped in mystery and time, that the trio had come seeking. With a knowing look, Morgana gestured towards a wall obscured by heavy drapes. Pulling them aside, she revealed a mesmerizing tapestry. Woven with threads of gold and silver, it showcased a celestial ballet: moons in their various phases surrounded by majestic wolves, each enacting a scene from times long past. The attention to detail was breathtaking, each strand capturing a moment, a memory.

My chest. Boom. The Crown. For one horrifying second, I could not tell where his heartbeat ended and mine began. My hand was still pressed against him, my blood soaked through the torn fabric over his chest. Beneath my palm, silver light pulsed hot and alive, burning through cloth, skin, bone, and whatever curse had been shoved into him twenty-one years ago. The bond snapped between us again. Not like a chain. Not like a rope. Like lightning hitting water. I felt him.

“The goddess tIed us together. Like it or not, the three of you are my mates. And that bond won’t be broken until all of you reJect me.” The words rolled off my tongue wIth power I didn’t know I possessed. SomethIng stirred Inside me, somethIng deep and ancIent, wrapping around my chest like invisible chaIns, binding me to hIm. It was undenIable, that raw pull—the bond awakening In me even as he fought it.