Cunning Vows Novels & Stories

Slowly, she placed her hands in his, her fingers trembling once before going still. “Then by the moon’s decree, the vow is sealed. Two packs, one fate. May the moon bless your union and chain your destinies as one.” The moon elder proclaimed, then drew a silver blade across both their palms, a symbolic cut, and pressed them together. Their mingled blood dripped onto the stone, glowing faintly as the ancient runes awakened. Everyone clapped as the vow ended and they left the stand. The chatter and celebration continued afterward. Suddenly, the chatter changed into gasps, and everyone turned their heads toward the entrance.

“Now about the private ceremony.” I groan, by private ceremony he means the vows I'll have to take to be a Knight's wife. The vows that do include rituals that I can perceive as Satanic at the very least because why would I cut myself and cut him then mix our bloody wounds to prove I'll be loyal and bound to him for this life and the next if we are permitted one.

We look at each other. "Traditional pack vows involve blood exchange and public consummation," Liam explains helpfully. "Hybrid vows use traditional language but skip the public aspects. Custom vows are written by the couple." My face is on fire. "Hybrid. Definitely hybrid." "Smart choice." Liam makes a note. "Now, the important part. The Council will be watching for signs that this marriage is coerced. We need to show unity, affection, and—most importantly—that April is choosing this freely."

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Zane Blackwood and Sera Voss in holy matrimony. Marriage is a sacred covenant, a bond not to be entered into lightly, but reverently, in the fear of God and in the joy of love. Today, these two stand before us to pledge their lives to each other…” The words echoed off the vaulted ceilings, filling the space with an air of inevitability. I barely heard them. I couldn’t focus nor breathe. I could only stare at their joined hands, the fragile symbol of a future that wasn’t mine, and feel the agony of every heartbeat echoing against the hollow space inside me. My thoughts spun in frantic circles. Every vow spoken, every phrase a

Each gave a vow. “To protect.” “To forgive.” “To remember.” When it was Arthur’s turn, he stepped forward, voice clear and unwavering. "I vow to guard this covenant not only with strength, but with humility. To protect the flame not as a symbol of dominance, but of guidance." Isabella followed. Her hand touched the scroll, eyes fierce. "I vow to raise the voices long silenced. To open every chamber hidden in shadow. To light every corner with truth." And finally, Catherine. “I vow to lead not from behind curtains, but among the people. Not with power, but with purpose.”

Repeating after Aldric, the woman’s voice trembled, but she spoke each word. “I enter this Hunt freely.” “I accept the reward of escape.” Another drop of blood fell. “I accept the consequence of capture.” Her shoulders squared, a last show of courage. “If taken before sunrise, I surrender my freedom and mating rights to the hunter who claims me.” The circle flashed, magic flaring as the vow was sealed.

"But understand something before you walk out that door. I don't lose negotiations. I win them, or I don't start them. The only thing genuinely undecided between us right now is whether you walk into this as my adversary, or as the one person in Madrid who actually understands exactly what she's agreeing to." She shook my hand. Her grip hadn't gotten any less steady in twenty-four hours, which told me something about her. I filed away with everything else, whatever fear lived under that stillness, she'd trained it to obey her long before she ever walked into my rooftop party. "I'll read it three times," she said, letting go first, which felt like its own small, deliberate statement. "And Tor

"Because a world without you is a world where my father wins, Dante. And I’d rather burn in the shadows with you than live in a world where men like him are the ones in charge." A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips—real this time. He reached out and, with a agonizingly slow movement, tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His touch was electric, a searing heat that made my breath catch. "Then we have a pact, Elara Vance," he said. "Not a marriage of debt. A marriage of war." He grabbed the obsidian box and headed for the back exit. As we descended into the dark, rainy streets of the Iron District, I realized that for the first time in my life, I wasn't being led. I was choosing the pa

“I, Chandler Andrew Parker take you Millie Wilson as my wife, my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish you for the rest of my life, for better or for worse… till death do us part.” After Chandler placed the ring on her finger, it was her time to say her vow. “I, Millie Wilson take you Chandler Andrew Parker to be my husband…” She paused, swallowing hard and looking at Chandler. Her hand was trembling as she held the ring on the guy’s hand. “…and I will cherish you…” She wasn’t able to finish her sentence anymore, when a loud bang echoed inside the church.

From the corner of my eyes, my father watched me nervously, his smile faltering at the fear of what I might be thinking. I never imagined faking an answer to a question like this. To spend a lifetime built on false vows and promises. This is not something I wanted for myself or my children. “I do,” The words tasted bitter as they rolled out of my tongue. Instinctively, I slipped the ring onto his finger without being prompted. The priest took another ring and handed it to the man. I gently removed my glove, revealing my sweaty tender fingers. I sucked in my breath as he reached for my hand, fighting the urge to pull back. After that ring slips in, I will be bound to this man.