A Vow Of Ruin Novels & Stories

The priestesses gathered around Olivia again, forming a perfect circle. Zara raised her hand. White fire spun between her fingertips. “To join forces with the Pact, you must take the Red Moon Vow.” Olivia nodded. “I’m ready.” “You are not,” Eun-Ji whispered. “No one is.” Zara continued. “The vow requires blood, breath, memory, and truth. If you break the vow, you die. If you fail the vow, you die. If the Widow takes you first…” Her eyes flicked to Ethan. “Then he dies.”

He muttered. “Yea And when Kael falls, it will not just be his blood that is brought to the ground. It will be the faith of his pack, the trust in his name. His line will crumble. That is the victory worth taking.” Finally, he understood. Not just to kill Kael, but to ruin him. To strip him of the weight of legacy. I raised my own cup, though I did not drink. “To ruin then.” He lifted his as well. “To ruin.”

My eyes filled with silent pleas. "I cannot have a mate that I do not trust, Lucianne," he spat my name like poison. "I would rather have it killed. I would rather rip it to pieces with my bare hands. My family once trusted and it destroyed us. My father once made a vow and it ruined us. And now, I made a vow to a snake." Every word was a punch to the gut and each time, I fought the urge to double over from the agony they inflicted. "Please, I know what I did was heinous, but please..."

"We can switch the herbs, mess with the oils or something....I dunno. We just can't sit here and do nothing." I knew that. I knew that it was a dumb idea for us to wait for our incoming destruction, but I had no idea how to solve this problem. The Moon Vow was one of the most powerful, dangerous vows known to wolves. And it was for a reason. "You do know that we can't risk lying to the moon goddess, right?" Olivia said, her voice slightly trembling as her eyes darted between us. "We will be damned for all eternity if we dare utter a word of falsehood in that vow—"

The chains were melting, the ethereal script dissolving into a black sludge that dripped onto the obsidian floor. "Final link, Blaze," Rhea whispered, her voice barely a breath. "Say it. End the vow." Blaze stepped forward, his face inches from hers. He didn't see the girl. He saw the end. He saw the ruin. "I renounce you," Blaze roared. "I renounce the mate! I renounce the bond! You are nothing to me!"

Lucien’s voice was quieter than the rest of us, his hand coming to rest firmly over the middle of the sigil, “to keep the secrets that should be kept, and share the ones that shouldn’t be.” “I vow,” Elias spoke with his usual bravado gone, making it clear this was more than he had ever done before, “to stand up for the people that have already been spoken for. I won’t let them be forgotten.” Then Ronan. His palm came to rest flat against the image, his voice a low and gravelly rumble. “I vow to defend this school with everything I have. Including from the shadows of where we all came from.” Last, I had a turn. “I vow to be better than the blood in my veins. To help build something here that

The Crown passes to you. “I didn’t agree to anything,” Riven said aloud, voice rough. The air around him rippled faintly, sigils ghosting into existence before fading again. Consent was not required. Riven laughed—short, sharp, broken. “Funny. Because I don’t remember volunteering to babysit gods.” Saint shot him a warning look. “Riven, don’t antagonise it.” Too late. Riven’s vision fractured—cities he’d never seen burning under alien skies, civilisations folding like paper, and stars blinking out one by one as if erased by a careless hand. He felt the Covenant’s hunger, its cold certainty.

On the night of their fourth wedding anniversary, Raymond Whitmore stood on a Boston stage and unveiled a perfume called Eternal Claire, dedicating it to the woman he swore he would love until his last breath. The world called it the most romantic gesture of the year. Claire called it a cage with a golden lid. Because thirty minutes later, a stranger sent her a video of that same perfume being poured over another woman's naked chest, in a suite two floors below the ballroom, by her husband's very hands. For four years, Claire had traded her PhD, her name, and her silence for a marriage the tabloids envied. In return, she got a mother-in-law who called her barren, a husband who called h

"You're going to stand at an altar and put a ring on her finger while I watch from the pews." "I am not marrying her," Leo snarled fiercely, his voice dropping into a dark, absolute register that sent a shiver straight down my spine. He drove into me with a sudden, breathless intensity, claiming my body with a desperate, crushing weight. "They can write whatever contracts they want. They can book the ballroom, they can send the invitations, they can pack me off to the coast—none of it matters. You are the only one who has me." And even though every logical part of my brain screamed that we were walking straight into an inescapable fire, my body arched up to meet him, surrendering entirely to

“Rule number two: You will not speak to Damien—or anyone beyond these walls without my knowledge.” “And lastly, rule number three…” He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his grip on my jaw tightening slightly, possessing me without a single touch of intimacy. “When I am in the room, your eyes are on me. Your attention is mine. You are under the Voss name now, Ivana. If I am going to burn down my empire to keep you safe from Marcus, you will give me your absolute, undivided obedience. Do you understand?” My heart hammered against my ribs. It was a golden cage. He was offering me protection, but at the cost of my complete surrender. And yet, looking at the raw, dark hunger in his ey