Devotion Words Novels & Stories

Between our hearts, the bond thrummed with contentment, offering comfort and peace. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea you would think…” He held my gaze with intense focus. His blue eyes stared straight down into my soul. “I would never do that. You are the only one that want. The only one that I will ever want. Nothing and no one could ever break my devotion to you.” Devotion? “Does that mean you love me?” The words came out in my confusion, before I could even think to hold them back. I immediately wanted them back.

Not with Devia. Not with anyone.

I wonder if these are the unspoken emotions He wishes to express. “Do you know what they mean?” I asked, not breaking my gaze from the flower on my lap. “Devotion” he replied simply. “Hmm,” I said, nodding my head in approval but feeling disappointed in my heart. He must have thought that is the only meaning of the flower. “And deep affection” I hear him say, completing his first sentence. My head moved instantly to his side, looking at him intently but he only smiled, not wanting to say more.

He indeed was giving me mixed feelings. "Do you Arielle, take Niccolò to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live " the officiant said, causing me to swallow the lump in my throat to answer him . Can we both love and comfort each other, I honestly don't think so, these vows are just a show for the guest.

"She needs you." "We need you too," Conri said. "I'll always be there for you," Xavier said. "That will never be in question," Thea said. She put a hand on Xavier's cheek and focused on him. "You're the God of Unwavering Devotion. Dedication. Protection. Work. Service. Sacrifice. Commitment." Thea wiped a tear that fell down his cheek. "We figured out what they're the gods of, too," she said. They told him, and when he heard each one, he felt a surge of arousal, possessiveness, and pride.

he said slowly, watching me with eyes that flickered with something darker than just obsession, "what makes you think I'd ever stop loving you?" His voice dipped into a whisper. "I didn't stop two years ago when I first saw you. I didn't stop when you walked down the aisle to marry him. I didn't stop when you looked at him with that softness I wanted for myself. And I sure as hell won’t stop now." My throat tightened. I bit into my lower lip to keep myself from saying something I couldn't take back. Ronan was unraveling. Not with rage or fury, but with devotion so intense it bordered on destruction.

“He seems… devoted.” Father smiled thinly. “Damon has been with us for some time now. I trust him completely.” The word trust scraped through me. Evelyn’s gaze slid back to me with something close to amusement. “Devotion is a double-edged thing,” she murmured. “It can guard—or consume.” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Dinner passed in a blur of crystal and conversation. Carl sat beside me, his hand brushing my knee every so often, each time slower, more deliberate. My fork trembled in my hand, but I forced a smile. Father didn’t notice—or pretended not to.

Luna replied with confusion, "I don't understand what you mean." "I always aspired to achieve Guardian Divinity, a power phenomena that occurs only with consistency of Guardian Fidelity. But how can I if I have failed to mentor you? You see, what I see in you is a reflection of me." "No tatay, I am a natural stubborn-head, I always try to find loopholes and get myself in trouble, what I am is not who you are, you are not a disappointment like me." "You are not a disappointment, that is not what I am saying. What I mean is, you are a fruit of my negligence and laxity. I should've been a better mentor to you."

Her voice was filled with venom, and Chris couldn’t fathom all that deceitfulness into a church. He felt like rolling up his eyes, but was able to craft an apologetic nod. If it were up to him, the only thing he’d be worshiping on Sunday morning was his woman. Oh shit, those thoughts needed to stop. Kiara was not his woman. But damn, she should be.

“You know I could make all this go away. I can make the charges disappear, but I’m going to need something from you first.” I knew what it was before he even said it. “Sign the papers,” he leaned down to tuck a strand of hair from my face while maintaining eye contact with me. “And then disappear from my life, forever.” He said it with so much certainty that I felt like he had driven a stake clean through my heart, impaling me with his words. I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all before it finally settled in my head. Curtis Blackwood was the fucking devil.