Black Bride From Insidious の小説・ストーリー

she says and the priest calls from afar. “can we proceed the bride is here” and the news is all over the internet and T.V that the bride is back and Brianna saw the news pops up on her cellphone as she was scrolling through her phone and her mood change and she quickly open websit and turn on the T.V to where the wedding will be shown live and she sees Manuel waiting for the bride father to bring her and she was surprised to see her and she flashes back to her men pouring a petrol on the car and she throwing a lighter on it and she says to herself.

she informs and I gulp nervously “Why have you been parading yourself around my family like a stubborn ghost that can’t be dispelled?” she inquires and my bow creases in confusion “How easy is it for you and your mom to have my son and your husband wrapped around your tiny little fingers?” “What did you do to my son?” “What ulterior motive do you have for substituting Eden Weston has my son’s bride today and most importantly, how did you blackmail Brain into doing your bidding” she bombards me with so many questions

She wondered if she'd hit a sore spot with her questions unintendedly. “My father has no power or say on this. Draven's mother is a pure blood of royal bloodline. Her family is one of the ancient maker who sired the Vampyre bloodline.” he huffed. “She has father on a leash. Queen Isolde condemned my mother to a fate far worse than death for having an affair with my father. Then she called of their union and took power over the north. Along side his sister, Morticia.” She gasped in disbelief, “He has a sister?!”

"Your what? A wife? Are you two married? Didn't she cheat you?” That said, she'll think I'm Angela. Javier shook his head. "No, she's not Angela. They just look alike.” Francheska was even more surprised by what she heard, I just extended my hand to her to introduce myself but she didn't take it so I just took it back. "This is impossible..." She still couldn't believe it. "How come she looks like her? Does she have a twin—” “Francheska, she has no twin. They are different people, Angela died and this lady in front of you and beside me is Janiyah... my wife. Now, will you please excuse us? Martin is also waiting for us."

The kind of gesture that said everything about what this was and nothing at all about what it wasn’t. The guests applauded. I kept my face still. Damien straightened and looked at me again and for just a fraction of a second something moved behind those blue eyes that I couldn’t identify before it was gone completely. Then he offered me his arm. I took it. We walked back down the aisle together, two hundred people watching, music playing, flowers everywhere, and I was Mrs. Blackwood, I was actually Mrs. Blackwood, and I felt absolutely nothing like a bride. I felt like a substitute.

The first scream came from the bridal suite. Eva Hart looked up from the seating chart in her hands. A makeup artist rushed past her, nearly knocking over a tray of champagne. "What happened?" Eva asked, catching the woman's arm. "The bride..." The woman's face had gone pale. "She's gone." Eva frowned. "Gone where?" "I—I don't know." For a second, the world around her seemed to stop. Outside, a string quartet continued playing as though nothing had happened. Guests laughed over glasses of champagne. Camera flashes lit up the entrance of the Blackwood Estate.

So she walked into Blackthorn territory wearing her mother’s old gray cloak and carrying nothing but stubborn hope. The path narrowed until branches scraped her arms. She could hear wolves in the distance, not howling, just low, rumbling growls that vibrated through the earth. Her pulse matched the sound. She told herself it was only nerves. She had heard the stories: tonight the Alpha of the Blackthorn pack would choose a bride under the blood moon. Not from among his own kind. Not this time. War was coming with the northern packs. He needed fresh bloodlines, stronger heirs. Desperate times called for desperate measures. And desperate packs sometimes accepted human offerings, if the price w

It was a woman draped in furs the color of dried blood, her face twisted into a smirk that had cost me everything on my eighteenth birthday. "Sarah," Killian growled, the name sounding like a curse. "Hello, little sister," Sarah said, her voice amplified by the station’s external speakers until it boomed across the silent lunar plain. "I told you the roots go deep. You thought you could bury me in the Ravine, but the South has very long memories". She wasn't just Sarah anymore. Her skin was a translucent, sickly grey, and her eyes were bulging with an obsidian light that signaled she had finally surrendered to the infection. She was the bridge the Director had wanted—the human host for a Voi

For one reckless second, I almost gave in. No. I pulled back sharply and forced the thought away, focusing instead on cleaning the blood from her temple. I moved the cloth higher, following the trail of dried blood until I found a deep, ugly gash across her head. The wound that had stolen her consciousness. Not long after, the chamber doors opened again. Rhydan and Brammon stepped inside, both stopping short the moment they saw her. Rhydan’s eyes ignited instantly, while Brammon’s nostrils flared as the scent of blood hit him.