Novel & Cerita A Vow Of Ruin

“This is the last time you lie to me, you got that?” “Yes, it won’t happen again.” My focus was on my plate but I just knew that wasn’t the end of it. Rio Romano didn’t sound like the man who’d let go of betrayal that easily even from his own family. “All of those old bastards will be at the wedding. You better make sure no blood is spilled tomorrow in my lawn. Those old dogs may have been fond of her mother in the past but this one is just a pretty doll that doesn’t know anything.”

"I thought that control was the only thing that prevented me from shattering. That if I just controlled everything—my business, my relationships, even you—I would never shatter. But I was wrong. I lost you, and I shattered." Isla didn't know what to say. Her rage had been such a faithful companion. Letting it go now was like skydiving without a parachute. "And what of Vivienne?" she asked, not wincing when she spoke the name. "You were betrothed to her while leaving me notes under my door." Killian let out a slow breath, the guilt weighing his shoulders down.

"I know I was wrong! Please forgive me—just give me one more chance!" His voice was hoarse, filled with despair and pleading. "I promise, I’ll cut ties with Lilith and her family. From now on, I’ll only have eyes for you. We can start over—we can have a happy life together!" I scoffed, curling my lips into a sarcastic smile. I laughed at his naivety and foolishness. "Do you really think we can go back to what we were?" Behind me, I heard his anguished howl. It was the sound of the werewolf in him being consumed by pain, just like how he was.

And for just that moment, standing in the ruins of golems, the smell of scorched stone thick in the air, her hand anchoring me, I believed I could keep it. But deep inside, guilt and fury warred like twin storms, and I knew this vow would demand a reckoning that might consume me whole. The tunnels narrowed into a final archway, its stone blackened with age, every line of it etched with words that made my throat go dry. Blood. Breath. Fang. Flame.

“You stand here and beg me—after everything? You tried to pour that same acid on me. You wanted my face to burn. My life to end. And now you ask me to save you?” Her aunt flinched, shame flashing across her face. “What did I ever do to you?” Rosy’s voice rose, raw, guttural. “Tell me! What was my crime? That I existed? That I breathed? You ruined me—and now you kneel here like I should forget?” The aunt dropped to her knees, clutching Joanna’s hand. “Rosy, please. She doesn’t deserve to pay for my sins. Don’t let her die.”

“Catherine won’t find peace until she’s killed Zarek. It’s the one constant that’s driven her all these years. She took a vow. She’s sworn to do everything in her power to see it fulfilled. Nothing you say or do will stop that.” “She vowed herself?” “Yes.” The information changes everything I’d planned. Vowing yourself as an immortal or supernatural means you can’t turn away—even if you want to. It’s more than honor. A vow becomes a living thing, something that can never be denied. Some believe that by speaking the word, a spell is evoked—unbreakable until the promise is kept. Failing to keep it brings enormous suffering. “Why?” I ask, my voice low. “What could be so important that she’d sac

“But I will promise you this: loyalty. Fire. Strength. We will rise together. We will conquer together. We will bury the past beneath our feet and rule what’s left of it.” Her words weren’t vows. They were decrees. Oaths of war disguised as marriage. Ruben swallowed hard. He wanted to tell her he still loved her, wanted to whisper her name the way he used to when she smiled in his arms. But when he looked at her now this woman in black, this queen of shadows he knew those words would wither in the air. So instead, he answered her with his own vow. Quiet, heavy, laced with guilt. “I swear I will not leave your side again. For better, for worse, for triumph, for ruin. Wherever you go, I go.”

“We are not pawns to be placed upon your board of war. We choose where we fight.” Rafael did not flinch. “Then choose wisely. If the ridge falls, so does everything.” The silence that followed stretched long, broken only by the faint rustling of the trees. Then, the guardian’s voice rumbled deep and final. “Very well. We will stand at the ridge. But hear this if you falter in your vow, if fear or betrayal weakens your kind, we will not hesitate to turn our judgment upon you.” I felt the weight of their words settle on my shoulders like a cloak of stone. Still, I stepped forward. “We will not falter. We will bleed before we break. That is my vow.”

But I want it. Because I am mad when it comes to Isadora, completely insane. “I’ll do it,” I say softly. “For her.” Silas looks at me like he’s already seen how this ends—like he knows oaths like this only lead to ruin. Maybe he’s right. But there’s something sacred about ruin, isn’t there? Something pure in the breaking. My fingers brush Isadora’s. Her skin is cold, trembling. I whisper her name, and she looks at me. Just looks.

Just fate. And the vows? I won’t wait for the priest to speak. I won’t let her lie through a smile as she promises herself to someone else. My vows will be whispered into her mouth as she gasps. As she shakes. As her hands claw at my back and her lips part with breathless devotion. I will vow to take her again and again. To keep her. To ruin her. I will speak them into her until she’s sobbing and clinging to me, lost and remade.