Corpse Bride Hands Novels & Stories

The smell of alcohol, light tobacco and the unique smell of a man fascinated her. She curved her lips, and an evil and attractive smile appeared on her face. Her beautiful eyes reflected the man's [face. Her long eyelashes lowered, casting a faint shadow. Her high nose, sexy lips "Harrow, I know how much I love you. I really want to be with you forever, but you don't have me in your heart, which makes me so sad. But it doesn't matter, as long as I really marry you, you will slowly forget that woman..." she reached out her hand, unbuttoned his tie, and then unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his strong chest. She put her hand in, feeling his heartbeat and temperature.

I said his name in a whisper, watching him kneel on the ground with his mate’s dead body in his arms. “Savia!” seeing her body covered in bruises and a silver dagger through her chest crumbled my heart. “She is g---one!” he let out a weep to announce the agony his heart was feeling. “Ahh! She is gone!” the wailing brides repeated after him, crying and yelling while terrorizing the pack once again. It was then I noticed I was the only one accompanying my brother because the others were too afraid to get a glimpse of the wailing Brides. Though the wailing brides never interacted or got into physical contact with anyone due to being made of dust, they have the pack appalled.

She looked at the crystal in her hand. “Don't worry, I would take you to a safer place." She petted the crystal... She whipped the sweat on her forehead; she looked at the cut on her hands... She cut it it from the clothes she was wearing; then she tied it. " Ouch” She stared at her stomach... She smiled. She stood up, carrying her injured body; her breath hitched. She looked at her right. corpse dragged itself from beneath an abandoned bus. Rotting hands reached through broken shop windows.

Laughter, lovely bright colors, pale skin, smiles. A woman's hand. Her caress. Her body. Her gown was carried softly by the wind. Her feet were beautiful against the soft green grass. Her eyes were pale grey yet twinkling with mischief. Her laughter. "Come, your majesty." Her soft voice called out, her pale hand reaching towards him. He took it, held unto it. He noticed how smooth and soft her skin was against his roughened one. He saw the daintiness it carried in its slender fingers. He felt the joy at that simple act of taking her hand. His heartbeat was faster than average, his blood rushing to his brain.

his words died, his eyes widening. My hand flew to my neck, applying pressure to the wound as he seemed mesmerized by me, rendered speechless. I backed away from him, shocked by what had just occurred. My radio went off. “General Nerine, are you still with the target?” Thana asked. I looked at him, ignoring her as he seemed to change, his eyes becoming lustful and more primal. His voice was guttural, he looked at me and spoke the words that sent chills through me, “Bride.”

plate right on the back of the car. Without a doubt, it was a wedding car. Finn hadn’t been bothered at first and was about to look away when the car window rolled down and revealed the bride’s delicate profile. A face he knew all too well. As if struck by a bolt of lightning, his smile froze and pupils contracted sharply. “Annalise Wright!”

A slight frown creased his brow as he looked back. The scene before us plunged the noisy entrance into stunned silence, then erupted into panicked screams. Just moments ago, Adrian's face had been flushed with rage as he pointed and cursed at us. But now, he suddenly doubled over. He clamped his hands over his mouth, but a thick, black liquid seeped between his fingers. With a violent gag, he spewed a torrent of dark blood. Gasps and shrieks broke out. "Someone's dying, and he's vomiting blood!"

It was nothing more than basic courtesy, but as someone who was treated as less than human by everyone, his small acts of kindness made Prince Leander the kindest person I knew. The guards finally led me to the bridal chamber which is near where the wedding would soon took place. The doors swung open and I was surprised to see the same seamstresses who took my measurements yesterday. “Lady Winter,” the head seamstress greeted softly. My gaze drifted past them. At the very center of the chamber stood the wedding gown. I stopped breathing. The gown was unlike anything I had ever seen. At first glance, it resembled a traditional human wedding gown—pure white, fitted through the bodice, with lon

And then— A low, commanding voice echoed from the entrance of the alley. "Let her go. Or I'll cut off your hands one finger at a time…"

He crunches his face for a moment before his eyes turn sharp in anticipation. Inside the coffin lies a woman holding onto a bouquet of red roses, dressed in a white fitted wedding gown and with closed eyes. Her hair was the color of a pitch black void, with porcelain white skin and pale purple lips that screamed undead. "Amor," he calls out, and in a moment, the woman opens her eyes as though she was the dead that came back to life. Theodora Althea Corazon, a woman buried six feet below the ground and now the living corpse bride of a man,