Trinity Bandit Novels & Stories

“The one in New Jersey? How could they…” "Not them," I broke in softly, sitting up despite the ache in my joints, the cold that seeped into me abating just a bit. “The pack I was born into. They have the weaponry to take down Tamara’s rogues, and the soldiers bred for conflicts like this are unstoppable. The Celestial Trinity.” She blinked, digesting the news; her long ponytail swung around as she cocked her head. “Celestial Trinity? Who are they? Rune, what does that even…”

"We’re Lycan royalty. The Blackwood name isn't just a business brand. It’s a crown. My 'gang'? That’s a military front to keep our borders safe. Silas’s companies? They fund the war we’ve been fighting for centuries." ​"I don't care about your wars!" I yelled. "I'm a human! I have a life!" ​"That's the part you aren't getting," Alaric said softly. He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. "By sleeping with me, the Mark didn't just tie you to me. We are triplets. We share a soul, a bloodline, and a throne. You are physically and spiritually bonded to all three of us simultaneously."

she gasped, her hands reaching out for him, but her body was pulling her toward the Firstborn. Dante grabbed her hands, trying to pull her back, but the electrical discharge from the unification was burning him. He didn't let go. He held on as his skin blistered, as the "Lethal Bond" screamed at the intrusion. "I’m not letting go!" Dante roared, his obsidian eyes burning with a possessive, terrifying love. "You’re mine, Ivy! Not the Trust’s! Not his! Mine!" The Firstborn reached out, his hand closing over both of theirs. "We are the Trinity. The Architect, the Warden, and the Result. Together, we are the only thing that can survive what’s coming."

Irish’s POV Even sitting in the middle of the lecture, I couldn’t stop myself from looking at the small white nylon bag in my backpack. Inside that bag was the wristband we had found at the crime scene this morning. The black leather band with “Midnight Pack Training Camp 2023” written on it in silver letters.

All of us. I looked at Cassian. At Lysander. At Theron. Three wolves, three bonds, one impossible connection. The Triad Bond, I said. It is real. Cassian nodded. And it is why we will win. Together. A howl echoed through the valley. Close. Too close. The hunters had found the tunnel. We ran. We ran through the valley, through the trees, through streams and over ridges. The howls grew louder, closer, and I could feel the hunters at our heels, their hunger, their rage.

He buttoned his trousers with that terrifying, practiced efficiency, not even looking down as he wiped a stray bead of sweat from his forehead. "Asher, with me," Ethan commanded, his deep voice carrying the chilling weight of a general commanding a frontline unit. "We need to override the electronic masking arrays before they fire a tracking torpedo." "I'm going to tear Dominic’s throat out if he’s on that ship," Asher growled, his massive tattooed chest heaving as he grabbed his assault rifle from the floor. He cast one final, wild look at my bare, flushed body on the leather divan. "Stay here, doll. Don't you dare move from this cabin."

"Does your wolf need my hands to arrange a fast pack ride to the estate?" "No, the Mensah Clan already sent a black car for my boots." "Have a great time at the bonfire, then." Trinity flashes a fake, sweet smile, says a quick goodbye, and walks out of the Adebayo gates. But his boots don't go anywhere near the Mensah Moon Estate—instead, his car tails Seth’s alpha scent straight to the private rooms of the Valoria Ridge club.

It's at this time as they find themselves back at the stream when they decide to split and follow different paths. The warriors led by Harrison will follow the southern route while the other triplets' friends will be led by Andrew and they'll follow the eastern route. Charles and his brothers will head to the west all alone, even amid protests from the rest. Only one warrior, a driver, will accompany them. They don't want anyone else to accompany them from there. The three groups finally come to an agreement and they decide to keep their mind links open so as to be able to discreetly communicate with each other.

Trip said. “You all got what you wanted. You wanted me to patch in, just not with the Warriors, right? I’ll let you in on a little secret, Trip. Blood will flow real soon. It will be the last MC war for a very long time, because I’m going to cut down every single person that had anything to do with the attack on my club, and trust me when I say, I’m the only person capable of keeping that promise.” “And you think the Reapers did this? Why the fuck would I want Bandit dead?”

"Surrender her, and your pack lives!" My stomach twisted into knots. Alpha Kieran. It had to be. The Blackthorne triplets emerged from the fortress entrance below me, and I gasped. They moved in perfect synchronization, three predators united by blood and purpose. Damon led in the center, his black fur gleaming like oil. Dominic flanked his right, slightly smaller but faster. Darius took the left, the largest and most brutal-looking of the three. "You dare attack Blackthorne territory?" Damon's Alpha command rippled through the air, so powerful that even I, locked away in my tower, felt the urge to submit. "You dare demand what is OURS?"