Chapter Four: Moonlit Temptation
The night had settled thick and velvet outside the inn, the storm finally receding into distant rumbles. But inside the room, the tension had only grown more dangerous.
Selene sat on the edge of the bed, her thighs bare beneath a thin shift, her skin still tingling from the heat of their nearness. She thought they might have left — that whatever strange magnetism drew Lucien and Ronan to her would snap if she just stayed quiet.
But she should've known better.
Lucien was the first to return.
He slipped into the room without sound, his long black coat gliding behind him like smoke. His eyes burned in the dark. He brought with him the chill of the night and something more — something older than death. He said nothing, simply moved to the hearth and watched her.
Minutes passed.
Then Ronan arrived.
He was heat and earth, his body massive in the doorway, wet from the rain, his shirt clinging to every muscle. His eyes glowed faintly gold — the wolf in him never far from the surface now. The instant he saw Lucien, he growled low in his throat. Not with anger… but warning.
Selene stood, heart pounding. "What is this?"
Lucien's gaze flicked to Ronan. "You feel it too. The pull."
"I do," Ronan answered, voice gravel. "And I don't like sharing."
"You may have no choice," Lucien said, taking one step toward her. "We are not enemies, not now. We are… bound. All of us."
Selene's pulse roared in her ears.
"Bound by what?" she whispered.
"Blood," Lucien murmured, his voice sin incarnate.
"Fire," Ronan said, stepping closer. "Fate."
They were moving toward her in tandem now, shadows circling light.
Lucien reached her first, his hand brushing the back of her neck, cool fingers threading through her hair. "Let us show you," he said, "what it means to be claimed."
She gasped, but didn't pull away. And when Ronan's heat pressed against her back, hands on her hips, breath rough against her ear, she moaned softly, magic flaring like flame beneath her skin.
Their touches weren't possessive.
They were reverent.
She stood between shadow and flame, witch and wolf and vampire. Power curled through her veins like pleasure, blooming hot and slow.
She was no longer alone.
And she would never be the same.
Chapter Five: The Bond Begins
Selene didn't remember falling asleep, only the sound of Lucien's voice and Ronan's breath against her neck, their energies woven into hers like silk and fire. When she awoke, she was tangled between them—Lucien behind her, his hand resting on her thigh, and Ronan in front of her, his fingers loosely curled around hers.
Their presence wasn't just comforting—it was consuming.
Lucien stirred first. His lips brushed the shell of her ear, cool and intimate. "You're still here."
"So are you," she whispered.
"I dreamt of you long before I knew your name."
She turned in his arms, heart hammering. There was a terrible gentleness in his face—like he feared breaking something fragile. He didn't kiss her. He simply stared at her as if she were the last piece of light in a world made of ruin.
Then Ronan groaned awake behind her, golden eyes cracking open. The wolf was close now—too close. His gaze darted between Selene and Lucien, lips tightening. "Did you touch her?"
Lucien didn't look away. "Not yet."
Ronan growled softly and sat up, his muscles flexing beneath his bare skin. "Don't play games with me, vampire."
Selene pushed herself up between them, her magic thrumming under her skin. "Enough. This isn't about rivalry. Whatever this is… it's not normal. It's magic. Old magic."
Lucien's voice dropped to a silken rasp. "A soulbond."
Ronan stilled.
Selene looked between them. "What does that mean?"
Lucien hesitated. "It's rare… ancient. When three fated powers are drawn together. Not one-on-one… but as a triad. Complete balance. Light, shadow, and fire. Witch. Vampire. Wolf."
"It's permanent," Ronan added, his voice a low rumble. "Once it's sealed… there's no undoing it."
Selene's breath caught.
Her blood screamed yes. Her fear whispered no.
She stood from the bed and paced, her magic swirling like wind in a bottle. "This doesn't make sense. I didn't ask for this."
"No," Lucien said, rising slowly. "But it chose you anyway."
Ronan crossed the room, his steps like thunder. He stood before her and cupped her face. "You're scared."
"I'm furious."
"Good," he said. "Because if you weren't, I'd think you were blind."
His kiss took her by surprise. It wasn't soft—it was fire and demand, hunger and claiming. His mouth devoured hers, and her magic answered, pouring out in a burst of warmth and violet sparks.
Lucien didn't interfere.
He simply stepped behind her, his arms encircling her waist, his breath cool on her neck.
"You belong to both of us," he whispered. "And we belong to you."
Selene whimpered as her knees weakened, trapped between heat and cold, desire and danger. Every nerve ending burned.
And still, she wanted more.
Ronan's lips trailed down her neck. Lucien's hand drifted under the hem of her shift. They moved as one—deliberate, reverent. Worshipping. Waiting.
"Do you want this?" Lucien asked against her skin.
"Yes," she breathed.
"Then say it," Ronan growled. "Say you choose us."
Selene's voice trembled, but it came without hesitation.
"I choose you."
At that moment, the soulbond ignited. A golden pulse surged through her chest, flaring outward, connecting them. Magic, blood, and desire wove them together in a knot fate itself could not untie.
And somewhere, in the deepest fold of the world, a force older than time stirred… watching.
Waiting.
The bond had awakened.
And with it, so had something else.
Chapter Six: Bound by Blood and Fire
The air was different now.
Selene felt it before she opened her eyes—heavy, electric, filled with power and something ancient pulsing just beneath her skin. The bond had not faded with the dawn. If anything, it had grown stronger.
Lucien sat in a nearby chair, shirtless, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the morning light. He watched her not with hunger, but with reverence. Ronan stood near the window, arms crossed over his broad chest, golden eyes sharp, like he was guarding something more precious than gold.
"You feel it too, don't you?" Selene whispered, her voice still thick with sleep and magic.
Lucien nodded once. "It's permanent now. There's no undoing what we've become."
Ronan turned toward her. "And if anyone tries to sever it, they'll die."
She sat up slowly, the sheets falling around her waist. Her skin was hypersensitive, her soul crackling. Every glance from them burned. Every breath was laced with need. But beneath the erotic hum of their connection, something darker stirred.
The soulbond wasn't just physical. It was prophetic.
She could feel them inside her mind now—small threads of thought and emotion linking her to both men. Lucien's cool control, Ronan's wild heat… and her own rising power, caught between.
Lucien stood and moved to her, kneeling at her side. "We've bound ourselves, Selene. But the world won't let us keep this peace for long."
"Why not?"
Ronan stepped forward, answering grimly, "Because the Coven will feel the bond. And they'll see it as a threat."
Selene's stomach twisted. "Let them come."
Lucien's smile was dark and soft. "That's the witch I've dreamed of."
Before she could speak again, pain sliced through her vision—a sharp jolt behind her eyes. She gasped and doubled over as her mind was suddenly filled with fire, smoke, and the sound of screaming.
A vision.
Wolves torn apart. Vampire bones burning. A circle of witches chanting in blood-soaked robes. And at the center, a woman with eyes like hers…
Selene clutched the sheets, panting.
"What did you see?" Ronan asked, kneeling beside her.
"They're coming," she whispered. "The High Coven. And someone… someone is using my bloodline."
Lucien's expression went cold. "Your mother?"
"She died when I was a child," Selene said, but her voice shook. "Or… I thought she did."
Ronan growled low in his throat. "We need answers."
Lucien took her hands. "Then we need to move—before the Coven finds us first."
But Selene's power surged suddenly, wild and uncontrollable. Her skin glowed faintly violet. The sheets around her caught fire—not burning her, not harming, but answering.
Lucien and Ronan stepped back in awe.
Selene rose from the bed, hair swirling as if in a storm. "No more running," she said. "If this bond means anything… then we fight together."
Lucien smiled slowly, wickedly. "Then we'll give them a war."
Ronan shifted, just for a moment—his hands becoming claws, his fangs lengthening. "And we'll burn their legacy to the ground."
Selene stood between them, a goddess rising from flame and shadow. She was no longer just a witch.
She was the bond incarnate.
And war was coming.
Chapter Seven: Sanctuary of Secrets
The wind howled through the forest, cold and sharp like blades through velvet. The path ahead was nearly hidden beneath roots and moss, but Selene led them with confidence, her magic pulsing like a heartbeat in her palm. Beside her, Ronan moved in his half-wolf form—eyes glowing, claws drawn—while Lucien flanked her other side, every step silent, every breath calculated.
They had been traveling for hours, moving toward the forgotten Sanctuary of Ys'ra, a relic hidden beyond mortal maps. It was one of the few places shielded from the Coven's scrying and where they might learn the truth about Selene's bloodline—and the force now awakening inside her.
"This place," Ronan muttered, sniffing the air. "It's old. Dangerous."
"Perfect," Lucien said with a smirk. "I feel right at home."
Selene paused, placing a hand on the ancient tree at the path's end. Magic thrummed beneath the bark—wild and feminine. Witch magic. But not hers.
She whispered an incantation in an ancient tongue that rose to her lips unbidden. The ground trembled. The air split with a crack of violet lightning, and the path opened, revealing stone steps carved into the earth.
"Only a bloodborn witch can open this door," Lucien said, watching her carefully.
"I didn't know I could," Selene replied. "Until I tried."
Ronan's hand brushed hers. "Whatever you're becoming… it's changing fast."
They descended in silence, the sanctuary revealing itself as they entered: a cathedral of roots and flame-lit glyphs, the walls lined with mirrors made of obsidian. At the center stood a pedestal with a shallow bowl—bone-white and veined with gold. As Selene approached, the bowl filled with blood, though none had been spilled.
Her breath hitched. "This is from my bloodline. My mother's side."
Lucien stepped closer. "Then we'll see what memories it holds."
She dipped her fingers into the blood. Her mind was instantly pulled into a vision—
A woman stood at an altar, hair black as ink, eyes glowing violet. She chanted, her hands lifted to the sky. A storm tore across the skies, and below her, vampires bowed, wolves howled, witches bled. This woman had united the three races. And she wore a mark on her back—a flame wrapped in thorns.
Selene gasped and staggered back.
Ronan caught her, his arms locking around her waist.
"She was like me," Selene whispered. "She was the first tribrid. The original bond."
Lucien's eyes narrowed. "The Coven must have destroyed her… and covered it up."
"She wasn't destroyed," Selene said, shivering. "She vanished. They feared her. They feared the power of unity."
Lucien stepped closer. "They'll come for you too, Selene."
Ronan growled. "Let them try."
She looked between them, her body still trembling—not with fear, but with something deeper. Her power had never felt this full, this alive. And her bond to Lucien and Ronan wasn't just magical—it was primal, intimate.
They were hers.
She stepped back, fingers brushing over Lucien's chest, her other hand catching Ronan's hip. "I need you both."
Lucien inhaled sharply, his gaze turning molten. "Then take us."
They backed her against the pedestal, the bowl glowing beside them. Lucien's hands framed her face as he kissed her—slow and possessive. Ronan's lips found her throat, fangs brushing the surface, holding back just enough.
Their bodies moved like they'd done this for lifetimes—worshipping her, worshipping each other. The bond flared with every touch, every sigh, magic building like a storm ready to break.
Selene cried out as the pedestal lit with her power, casting shadows that danced on the walls. The sanctuary answered with groaning stone and singing flame.
And at the height of pleasure, power surged through them all—an explosion of light and heat, sealing the bond even deeper.
When they collapsed together on the sanctuary floor, breathless and glowing, they were no longer three people. They were one force.
And far above them, in the citadel of the High Coven, a circle of witches felt the tremor.
"The Tribrid has awakened," one hissed. "And she is not alone."
Chapter Eight: Blood Oaths and Echoes
The sanctuary's stillness didn't last.
The air thickened, a warning in every breath. Selene sat at the edge of the glowing pedestal, her legs draped over Ronan's thigh as Lucien paced nearby, eyes fixed on the entrance to the underground chamber.
"They felt it," Lucien muttered. "The Coven. Maybe others."
Ronan's jaw clenched. "Let them come. I'll rip their throats out."
Selene reached for his hand, grounding him. "They won't come unprepared, Ronan. If the vision was right, they'll send more than witches. They'll send monsters."
Lucien's voice lowered. "They'll send what they created to kill your ancestor."
Selene looked up sharply. "You think they have one of those things still alive?"
"No," Lucien said. "I think they made new ones. And I think they've been waiting for a tribrid to surface."
Ronan stood, golden eyes blazing. "Then we go to them first. Take the fight to their doorstep."
Selene's pulse raced. She wanted to agree. But something about the pedestal—about the vision—clung to her thoughts.
"There's more here," she said softly, brushing her palm along the pedestal's base. "A second seal."
Lucien crouched beside her, his fingers moving over the carved runes. "It's locked by blood again. But not yours."
"Mine," came a voice behind them.
They all turned at once, ready to strike—but froze.
A woman stepped from the shadows of the sanctuary's far wall. She was tall, silver-haired, robed in midnight cloth woven with stars. Her eyes were a mirror of Selene's—violet fire.
"Who—" Ronan began, stepping in front of Selene.
The woman raised her hand. "Peace, wolf. I am not your enemy. I am your blood."
Selene stared. "You're… her."
The woman bowed her head. "Althea. The First Tribrid. And your grandmother, child."
Lucien hissed. "That's impossible. You disappeared centuries ago."
"Not disappeared," Althea said. "Hidden. Sealed away to protect what comes next." Her eyes found Selene. "You."
Selene's knees gave slightly, but Ronan caught her before she fell. "Why now?"
"Because you awakened the bond," Althea said. "And in doing so, you've opened the path to the Final Flame—the magic that can burn the Coven's corruption to ash. But it will demand more than your power."
Selene straightened. "What do you mean?"
"You must face the Trials of Blood. Three of them. One for each bond you carry. Witch. Vampire. Wolf. Only then can you unlock the Final Flame and ascend."
Lucien's voice was tight. "Ascend?"
Althea's lips curved faintly. "To godhood, vampire."
A thick silence fell.
Selene blinked. "You want me to become a goddess?"
"You don't have a choice," Althea replied. "Because if you don't, the Coven will remake the world in their image."
Ronan growled. "Then we start with the first trial. Now."
Althea nodded solemnly and moved to the pedestal. She pressed her hand to the seal. A second surge of light flared, and the ground trembled. A hidden door cracked open in the stone floor.
"The Trial of the Wolf," Althea said. "You must enter alone."
Selene stepped forward, heart thundering. "What's inside?"
"Your darkest self," Althea whispered. "And your greatest truth."
Ronan gripped her wrist. "You don't have to do this yet."
She turned and kissed him. "I have to. For all of us."
With a final breath, she stepped into the dark… and the door sealed behind her.
Inside, everything shifted.
The walls turned to forest, the floor to wet moss. Moonlight shimmered through tall trees that shouldn't have existed underground. And in the distance, a howl echoed—ancient and furious.
Selene walked forward, barefoot, the air cold against her skin.
From the shadows emerged a beast. A wolf taller than any man, with fur like midnight smoke and eyes that glowed violet.
It was her.
Her true form.
Her wolf.
"You fear this," the wolf said in her mind.
"I fear losing myself," Selene replied.
The wolf snarled. "Then prove that you haven't."
Selene lifted her hands, summoning her flame, her magic, her heritage. The forest caught fire around her—but it didn't burn. The flames danced. The wolf leapt.
And they collided.
It was not a battle. It was a union.
Magic exploded from her chest, and she screamed as the world shattered into light.
When she opened her eyes, she was on the sanctuary floor, her body glowing gold. Her wolf was inside her now—whole and awake.
Lucien and Ronan ran to her.
"What happened?" Ronan asked, kneeling beside her.
"I passed," she whispered. "The first trial."
Althea smiled. "Two more remain. And with each, your power—and your bond—will grow."
Lucien helped her up. "Then let's give them something to fear."