Bride No Veil Novels & Stories

My hair was also a simple bun at the back of my head, with a jewelled clip to hold my veil in place. The bridal gown was pure white and simple. The skirt was flowing with a slight train and the sleeves were lace. Although my father had objected to the ‘unconventional dress’ at first…but he had changed his mind at the last minute when my groom’s father, and by father’s good friend, Mr. Davis, had reminded him that this was the twenty first century and women dressing in lace sleeves was appropriate enough. And yet…Mr. Davis hadn’t thought that arranged marriages should’ve been left behind in the nineteenth century either.

Violet met his gaze and, for a moment, wanted to tell him the truth. 'Yes, I don't want to marry you. 'It was you who betrayed me first. You trampled our love into the dirt. You are the one who made me lose all hope in this marriage. 'So what right do you have to ask me now?' But she had no intention of revealing everything just yet. At the bridal boutique, the moment they stepped inside, the staff pulled back a curtain, revealing the wedding dress that had been prepared in advance. "Miss Hudson, the custom gown Mr. Warhol ordered for you from France has arrived. Please let us know if any adjustments are needed."

The man was handsome and stern, while the woman was radiant and stunning. The man wore a crisp black suit, while the woman wore a pristine white off-the-shoulder wedding dress. A tiara adorned with diamonds sat elegantly on her head. Behind them was a backdrop of the blue sea and sky. The bride's veil billowed in the wind, creating a scene of unparalleled beauty. Seeing this photo, Alicia couldn't help but stomp her foot. "What is this? They're practically broadcasting their wedding photo to the whole world. Are they trying to get married or to get attention? It's annoying!"

Even without makeup, her beauty was still very attractive. He blinked his eyes and shook his head trying to remove Camille from his thoughts. “I’ll see you downstairs for breakfast, grandma will be waiting for you. You should hurry up.” He turned his back and left the room. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. She couldn’t believe she agreed to something like this . She placed her right palm on her heart to slow it down. "Everything will be fine, don’t worry, it’s just a contract marriage, everything will be fine," she thought.

"And have you thought about what it would be when they also realize that you are not Aria?" "They wouldn't have to know. A bride can be veiled. You are not under any law to reveal your face to anyone. I believe that they might think that is what you want and they will respect it." I hesitated, trying hard to think about what Prisca had said. She was right. I would be seen as a fool if I returned to the people with the news of Aria eloping with another man and there would be no wedding. It would be the second time I gathered people and something ruined the ceremony.

“What?” Vincent’s eyes widened sharply. Inside the evidence bag was a phone, its screen already shattered. A police officer helped unlock it and pulled up the last recorded video. Christine’s face appeared on the screen. She was wearing a white dress, faded from too many washes, with light makeup on her face. The background was the rooftop of the Empire State Building, and the strong wind lifted her hair. “Vincent, congratulations to you and Elena on your wedding today. I’m sorry I can’t attend. It’s because I’ve decided to leave this world.”

“Veils? Minthe, our pack rituals do not use veils. That is a human custom from the old lands. Why would we—“ “Because veils have always been used for brides, haven’t they?” I cut him off, my voice steady, layered with a dark, deliberate precision. “In the human world, the veil hides the bride’s face until the very moment the vows are spoken. It keeps the identity hidden until it is too late to change anyone’s mind. I want it to be exactly the same for this ceremony.” I let go of his hands, stepping back as the full layout of my plan crystallizes in my mind.

And then she appeared. I’d seen photographs — but nothing prepared me for this. She didn’t walk down the aisle. She owned it. Owned the silence. Owned the gasps. A black veil covered her face, but I could still see the curve of her jaw, the smirk tugging at her lips, the gleam in her dangerous eyes. Her gown was more like a funeral dress — hugging every curve with unapologetic sex appeal. Not a bride. A black widow. And somehow… I was both furious and intrigued.

The bride wore a veil on her face, and no one could see her appearance clearly. “The bride is bound by the rules of her race, so she’s not allowed to show her face in public, but you can tell from her figure that she's indeed very beautiful. My daughter-in-law is not to be underestimated!” Lazlo laughed. It was the only option he could think of. Some nosy people created a gust of wind that blew the veil away. Very soon, the woman’s ugly face was revealed to the public. Everyone was dumbfounded by the scene. They gulped nervously, thinking they had seen a ghost. Some people choked and spat out the wine they were drinking. Sounds of breaking plates and screams of fear quickly followed.

She grabbed her water glass like it was a lifeline, brows raised in silent demand. Delilah spoke first, words strangling out. “So what exactly is the word, Zeden?” I set my fork down. Met both their eyes, then turned to Amber. “Bride.” The word landed clean and final. “My bride.” The glass slipped from Mother’s hand. It shattered against the floor in a spray of shards and water. Delilah swayed in her seat, face draining of color like someone had pulled a plug. And Amber—fuck, the shock on her face hit me harder than either of them.