Elysian Bride Novels & Stories

Red eyes meet with brown ones and they stare at each other. "You look a lot like Emperor Ariadne, but younger. Anyway, she said I will have to seek your permission to leave here, so be kind enough to grant me your permission, thank you. Let's first start with this invisible door in this room," she said pointing at the wall behind her. "No, you are not leaving here precious. I have chosen you as my bride. We will get married when you have come of age." "I am no one's bride flat nose," "Shouldn't you be thankful to me for saving you. You were dead and I brought you back to life so technically speaking you owe me your life and you will do as I say or else I will have to take back what I give...

I thrust in slowly. The feeling is so different. I moan, I take one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking on it. She grab my hair and moans. "Sir... " "Ryan " I corrected. "Ryan Pls faster, oh god" she moan. I increase my pace, thrusting harder making sure I hit her g spot. I groan as I feel my climax. I increase my pace the more, Maria's moan all over the place. I kiss her to stop her from shouting too much.

Rodger shifted halfway into his wolf form with his bones cracking loud enough to echo. But it wasn't the Council who came through the broken window. A man stepped onto the ledge dressed in black tactical gear with a silver crossbow leveled at my heart, and I recognized him immediately. Lucien Varick, the groom Rhea was supposed to marry. "Get away from my wife," Lucien said. I laughed, dark and sharp. "She's not your wife yet, and she's currently covered in Blackwood oil, so she belongs to us." Lucien didn't flinch, and he looked at Rhea struggling under the net with her skin still flushed from the ritual. "Actually, I didn't come to save her; I came to collect the dowry."

The shard dug into the center of my palm and I watched as our blood soaked through the silver fabric. Elias pressed soft kisses into my skin, murmuring apologies the whole time as our blood soaked through and began to drip on the altar. I hadn’t read this far on lycan matings, or I would’ve prepared myself for this. Finally, after what felt like hours, Elias let go of my hand. He took the silver fabric off our hands and let the bloody metal shard fall to the altar. “May the goddess bless your union.” He dropped a lit match onto the fabric and I watched as the entire altar went up in flames, but instead of bright orange, the flames were silver.

TRISTAN "Say yes," I heard her mother’s voice, and then Nyra’s, cutting through the haze of the room, assisting me. Yelena blinked, her gaze shifting as if she were shaking off a long, heavy dream. She looked at me, her eyes clearing, and a slow, tired smile spread across her face. She nodded, her fingers trembling as she reached toward me. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Yes, I'll marry you, Tristan Crosswood."

Make someone flinch. Elarion didn’t. His expression didn’t even flicker. The muscular guy’s grin widened. “My name’s Aurel Lysel. From the House of Lysel.” The Clan of Lysel. A noble house. Old blood. Known for warriors. Their ancestors were said to defeat dragons in the past. Aurel finally released the grip and gave a single approving nod. “You’re strong. I like that. How about we become mates?” Elarion blinked once.

And in the center of it all stood Branwen. But not just Branwen. Her grandmother’s face twisted—no longer the fierce, cold matriarch. She smiled like Elias. Spoke with his voice. “You brought us here,” it whispered. “You broke the seal.” “I didn’t—” Yvette’s voice cracked. “You chose.” The sea surged forward, and suddenly she was drowning. Salt filled her mouth, her eyes. And in the silence beneath the waves, Elias waited. He did not look like a monster. He looked like her father.