Choose Your Romance Novels & Stories

"Darian, please don't fight with Grace because of me. Next time, you should dance with her. I'll be fine on my own. Grace, don't be mad at me, okay? I'm sorry." Darian immediately pulled Lilith into his arms and murmured reassurances. The look he gave me grew even more disgusted. I watched Lilith — fragile on the outside, but every word calculated to manipulate and earn sympathy. This was exactly how she had stolen Darian's heart, bit by bit. Darian and I were fated mates. He was the Gamma's son; I was the Alpha's daughter. We had known each other since childhood. We were engaged. There was a time when we were inseparable.

Lucy officiated, voice soft, steady, full of love. “Do you, Marcus, choose Sloane, every day, every moment, every forever?” Marcus’s voice was thick. “I do. I choose her when she’s laughing. When she’s scared. When she’s quiet. When she’s loud. I choose her in the light. In the dark. Always.” Lucy turned to Sloane. “And do you, Sloane, choose Marcus, every day, every moment, every forever?”

I just ran toward the flames. The fire roared to meet me. It licked up my arm, searing through the simple dress. The skin blistered and sloughed away, revealing raw, glistening flesh beneath. A tear tracked through the soot and landed on the exposed wound. The pain was so sharp, so clean, it stole my breath. “Well, look at that. The mighty White Wolf heiress can burn.” Leon’s voice came from behind me. He stood there, Selene tucked against his side. His gaze raked over my ruined arm, and a smirk twisted his handsome face.

"Especially then. I'm not interested in easy relationships with uncomplicated people. I'm interested in you. All the messy, difficult, extraordinary parts." "That's either very romantic or very stupid." "It's both. Most romantic things are." I kissed him, not caring that pack members were probably watching. Let them see. Let them understand that our relationship wasn't political calculation or crisis bonding. It was choice. Deliberate, consistent choice to build something together despite complications. "I choose you," I said when we broke apart. "Not because you're pack leader or politically convenient or because tradition demands it. Just because you're you and that's enough."

Love-making wasn’t about bodies anymore. It was about presence. About choosing each other without losing yourself. When his arms wrapped around me, I rested my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It felt steady. Human. Real. “I can’t unsee what you did,” I whispered. He tightened his hold slightly. “I know.” “But I can choose what I do with it.” He kissed my hair. “And what are you choosing?” I pulled back enough to look at him. “I’m choosing myself first,” I said softly. “And then… maybe us.”

Choose us. I held my breath, waiting. This was the moment. Where it all went wrong or right. Kade rose, and with him, I did. He cupped my face in his hands, grey eyes dark and fixed only on me. "I choose you." Emotion roughened his voice. "I choose us. 'This family we arebuilding'; I choose it. No contracts. No clauses. No force or obligation. Just choice."

He had simply named the gown after her, making it a bold proclamation of his eternal love for her. The cameras were pointed at both their faces. He was tall, dark, and handsome, whilst she was beautiful and stunning. They also seemed intimately close to each other. Madeline Carlton's lips tugged upward slightly in a self-deprecating grin when she saw that. They were perfect for each other. But that only made Madeline's situation seem even more like a sick joke. Half an hour later, footsteps sounded at the door. Madeline remained seated on the couch and didn't get up to welcome the newcomer home. Instead, she just waited in the dark, watching as the bright overhead lights buzzed to life and p

"Not a merger. I want to promise you, right here, with no audience, that I choose you. Not because of the baby. Not because of the company. Because you are the only person who knows the code." Aria looked at him. She saw the boy who had been lonely. She saw the man who had been terrified. And she saw the husband who had stayed. "I choose you," Aria whispered. "I choose the mess. I choose the fights. I choose the silence." "And the Fortress?" "And the Fortress." Noah kissed her. It wasn't a Hollywood kiss. It was a quiet, desperate seal on a contract that had no exit clause. "Happy Anniversary, Player One," Noah said.

"But yes. If that's what you need to be happy, if freedom means more to you than us, then I'll let you go. I love you too much to keep you trapped." I kissed him, pouring all my love and certainty into it. "I choose you. Not because I have to. Not because I'm afraid or trapped or obligated. But because you're my home. This kitchen, this life, this beautiful mess we've created together. This is where I belong. With you." He kissed me back, hard and desperate, lifting me onto the counter amid the basil leaves and garlic and pine nuts. "Say it again." "I choose you, Armando Denaro. Every day. For the rest of my life. Through gunfights and explosions and family betrayals and whatever else this i

"Maybe that's the point." Damien watched her for a long moment. Then, with quiet finality, he said, "You're better than this. Don't let them make you forget that." "You know what would really make them choke?" she slurred, eyes glittering with spite and liquor. "If I walked in next weekend on your arm, dripping diamonds and lies. Told the whole world we're madly in love." Damien raised an eyebrow. "You're suggesting we fake date?" She hiccupped. "Not seriously. Unless you're that bored."