Cunning Vows 소설 & 이야기

Kira Quezada faked her own death to escape a family legacy that wanted to sell her off like a signature on a contract. Three years later, disguised as a cleaner, she's finally safe, until her new boss looks at her twice and realizes exactly who she is. Luciano Rodriguez doesn't expose her. He makes her an offer instead: marry him, save his dying grandmother's peace of mind, and help him bait the uncle circling his empire like a wolf. It's supposed to be a contract. Nothing more. But the man she was promised to as a girl and the man hunting Luciano's throne are the same person, and he's not done with either of them. As old secrets surface and new ones are made in the dark, Kira has to decide

Our blood mingled in the silver chalice before being pressed to each other’s lips. Ancient words were spoken. Binding. Irrevocable. When it came time to mark, I hesitated only a fraction before leaning in. My teeth grazed her skin, enough to seal the ritual without claiming more than necessary. Her fingers brushed my jaw, lingering. Possessive. The vows were exchanged beneath the moonlight. And just like that, it was done. Applause rose again, wilder this time. Wolves howled in approval. From across the courtyard, I saw Cael’s expression darken before he turned and disappeared into the night.

Mum spoke first. “The Moon marks what is broken and returns it made whole. We honor her law today.” She looked between Cowrie and her groom, then Gavin and Sariah, then Ruhan and me. “Three vows. One for bond, one for peace, one for rule.” Cowrie went first. “I vow to guard what is mine and take what is offered in trust.” Her husband repeated it. Mum nodded. Gavin spoke next. “I vow to shield what is mine and serve where I am needed.”

She was a trapped bird, and I was the cage. ​"Careful, little wolf," I whispered, my voice a low rumble that only she could hear. "You keep looking at me like you want to slit my throat, and I might actually enjoy it." ​Her lips, full and painted a deep, bruised red, thinned into a hard line. She didn't answer. She just stood there, her eyes twin flames of defiance. ​The Pack Elder stepped forward, the ceremonial silver blade glinting in the candlelight. "We do not vow with words," he announced, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "We vow with blood. We vow with soul."

“Promise me that if you ever show up just to annoy me again, you’ll end up with every nasty pack curse imaginable—cysts, lumps, and a permanent loss of your shift.” Then I turned my gaze to Ethan. “What about you, Alpha? Want to make a vow too? I have a perfect one for you. If you ever bother my peace again, you’ll suffer from a permanent limp and total sexual dysfunction.” I leaned back, feeling invigorated. “Sounds terrible, doesn’t it? I’m such a ruthless bitch. Asking you both to stay away from me seems like a fair trade for everyone’s safety, right?” Ethan and Lila were so taken aback they seemed to lose their ability to speak. Ethan was the first to find his voice, shooting me a glare.

I vowed. However, when everyone thought that I was about to conclude, they all gasped in surprise when I continued and took out a poisoned dart. " .... and I add to my solemn vow that I shall continue to selflessly care, love and serve you both in both, life and DEATH !” I promised and took the most difficult vow of royalty- the ‘Supreme Vow of Life’ as I pressed the poisoned dart in my palm and held it over the sacred fire so that the dart disappeared inside my palm, leaving a hot trail of bubbling blood in its wake.

But Vincent remained silent. The doppelgänger leaned closer, his eyes glowing brighter still. “Do you want proof, bride? The truth is locked inside that desk over there…but it's secured tight and only he…” he pointed at Vincent “…can unlock it.” Camela swallowed hard. “What’s inside?” she asked. The doppelgänger's smile sharpened menacingly as he replied. “His true vows…the ones he never said out loud; those that bind him more than any wedding chain ever could. If you want to know what he swore, make him open it.”

My stomach turned with each verse, each step that brought them closer to sealing what should have been mine. The elder dipped his fingers into a silver bowl filled with crushed moon herbs, smearing the paste across their wrists. “Tonight, you will mark each other. Bite to bond, blood to seal, and flesh to claim. Speak your vow.” Caius’s voice was strong, commanding, proud. “I vow to protect you, to lead beside you, and to honor our bond until death.” Liana’s was sweet, dripping with false humility. “I vow to stand with you, to serve beside you, and to honor our bond until death.”

He went forward to talk about how treacherous it is to make that kind of move and the repercussions being death. Vincent's speech finally came to an end as he reassured the pack that he is on the matter and will do all it takes to sniff out the bad eggs. Panic rippled through the crowd as the realization set on the group not supporting him. "And so tonight," Vincent's voice rose again, "we are going to show our loyalty. There will be a blood covenant among us all, to further seal our unity and faith and trust in each other." "A blood covenant prevents a member of a pack from revolting against the initiator. This dude has gone crazy." Caleb whispered.

Eirwen felt a chill crawl up her spine when Vow placed the book beside it and slowly opened to a page near the center. In delicate handwriting—gold ink, smudged with ash—it read: “Lie to the Crown. Lose the tongue.” Eirwen didn’t laugh. But she did smile. Just a little. “This some kind of mafia poem?” she asked. Triarch Vow didn’t move. Domenik did. He stepped toward her, voice softer than it should’ve been. “This is not metaphor. It’s doctrine.” “You want me afraid?” “No,” he said. “I want you honest.”