Thrice Bound Chest Novels & Stories

You'd run the moment we hit the street. "Where would I go?" Sera asked. "You've felt the bond. You know how strong it is. I can't run from you—not really. The pull would bring me back." She saw him think about this and accept the truth. Neither of them could separate from the other due to the bond. The charmed metal around her wrists was not as effective as this chain. Finally, "I'll think about it," he said. "You should get some rest in the meantime. We'll begin organizing a response to your implausible assertion tomorrow.

"What did you find?" "The most complete wolf physiology I've ever seen in thirty years of practice." Her voice was very quiet. "Broader magical pathways than your own, Your Highness. A wolf core that wasn't absent—it was *enclosed*. Wrapped in binding magic so thorough it was indistinguishable from absence if you didn't know what you were looking for." "Someone bound her wolf."

"The King’s bed is his own. To suggest his Queen is anything but the girl from the North—" "Look at it!" Charlotte stepped forward, her hand slamming onto the desk. The wood groaned. "That isn't a bandage for a wound. It’s a binder. My laundry girls found it in the Silk Wing’s wash. It was tucked inside a torn shift. A shift only the Queen wears." "A binder?" The Priest’s brow furrowed. He finally reached out, picking up the cloth with the tips of his fingers. He turned it over. His eyes widened. "This is designed to flatten a chest."

Her shoulders were lean but strong, her form deceptively wiry. Casey stared at her reflection for a moment, her lips tightening. Then, she wrapped the first strip around her chest, flattening the curve of her breasts. The pressure was firm but reassuring like armor being fitted in place. She wound the second strip, then the third, each layer tightening until her chest appeared flat, her figure stripped of its softness. She pulled her shirt back on, rolling her shoulders to adjust to the constriction. The binding altered her silhouette, making her appear more muscular, more boyish. She scrutinized herself in the mirror, tilting her head slightly.

My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped a heavy thick band around my ribs and was slowly pulling it tight. "Hey," he murmured, his voice dropping another octave. He reached out, his big, warm hands wrapping around my wrists. He didn't pull me up. He just held me there, his skin burning hot against my freezing cold pulses. "Look at me. Breathe. Just look at me."

Levantus speaks next. “Can you be unbound? Get your vision back and unlock your abilities? Anyone who turns out to be like you?” I furrow my brow and consider his question. “Moira, the witch who healed me said that the binding isn’t permanent, but it’s very strong. It would take a decent amount of power, the right kind of ritual to do the unbinding. It’s possible killing the one who did it could lift it, but that is an unknown.”

Instead he was more focus on the scene that happened at the exit when he attacked his step sister slash girlfriend. "Don't do that again." Theo warned Cath "Don't let your emotions control your wolf." "My wolf?" "Yes. Your wolf. " "What you did to her. That is called Bloodbound. It is the ability to share the same strong feeling towards your mate making them think and feel that you feel. " "How..?" He pointed at her chest where her imprint is. "The mark in your chest. Your imprint is mine. I felt that you were about to be attacked by her." Theo replied calmly

His loyal men were still engaged fiercely with Tessa’s men, but now they had noticed their alpha was down, and their desperate shouts filled the air. “Run.” Tristan gasped again, his voice barely a whisper. My legs finally found their strength, but I didn’t sprint away from the chaotic scene. Instead, I held Tristan’s hand, my other hand placed on his wounded chest. Tears welled up in my eyes as I knelt by Tristan’s side. “No, Tristan, no,” I whispered, my voice trembling. Blood seeped through his fingers as he clutched his chest, his breaths shallow and labored.

Agron unzipped her dress and kissed the back of her neck softly. Inara turned and started unbuttoning his shirt. She knew it was going to happen. The moment he slid that ring on her finger, she’d known. Her hands traced the letters of her name tattooed over his heart and she looked up at him. “When did you do this?” “Friday morning,” he whispered as he pulled her dress down her arms. His hands trailed over her ribs and down her hips as he pushed the dress down to the floor. He took his shirt off slowly and Inara took in the elaborate tattoos that filled his right arm and one half of his chest.

After getting ready I took my phone and out if habit I wrote him the usual good morning text, and as everyday they were all unanswered and and unread. “How's your chest pain today?” Asked my father ad shead I stepped into the kitchen. I didn't even try to lie, I knew way too well that he would recognize it. And I knew even better that as a pack doctor he was one of the few who could really understand the physical pain of being rejected. “It's still there dad, it's not really improving”. His eyebrows went together as he started thinking and mumbled “I will try something else tonight, maybe a warm pack with essential oils on your chest will help you loosen up all the muscles”