Fugitive Bride Novels & Stories

She was like a caged animal, frantic, desperate, and focused on nothing but escape. Reaching the laundry basket, she rifled through its contents, hands trembling as she pulled out a maid’s uniform and a thin gray cloak, its hem stained with dirt. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. Tugging the garments over her wedding dress, she worked quickly to hide her identity. Her long, silvery hair was the most difficult to conceal, strands refusing to stay tucked beneath the hood. She fought with them, pulling the fabric tightly over her head, knowing that even a glimpse of her pale locks could betray her.

His eyes flickered with confusion for a moment. "I decided to move on, and yes, I made the right choice. Now excuse me, I have to go; my bride is ready." After he left, I told that woman to disappear. I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking of the last three nights I had spent with Zaria. Then thought about my son. Raveth. The bride walked the carpet in small steps; she was a young witch named Mable. Looked obedient; Rune did not love her; he just needed a queen—an obedient one.

As soon as it switched off, I lay on the bed, there cold caving inside me. I'd taken my own creative liberties with telling the story, especially at the end to make it sexier. There was no kingdom or princess and no man in the original story. It was something much more tragic. In the original story, the Lost Bride was from a small family, her beauty and kindness an influence to others. The family, after poverty became desperate, giving her away as a last resort. After her escape she’d found the tree and ate its fruit, turning into a bird. She flew back home, perching on her family's roof, only to be caught by her brothers whose hearts had turned cruel in her absence. She was trussed up and u

The moment I shut the door, the message I had refused time and time again surfaced once more: "If you agree, I'm ready to pay any price to steal you from your wedding." Outside the room, Adriana went on describing her dream wedding amid snow-capped mountains and blooming flowers. Threaded through her words was Carlo's patient, indulgent voice repeating, "Whatever you say." I let out a bitter laugh and typed back, "There's no need to steal me away. You're my groom." "Carlo, if you were meant to end up in the snowy mountains, then I'll go to the warm Tuscanica instead. I'll let you go, and I'll finally free myself as well," I mused inwardly.

“Miss Christine sure is delusional. Mr. Vincent is the Godfather of the Medici family. He’s worth billions. In New York, anyone with status treats him with the utmost respect.” “Isn’t he getting married to his fiancée in five days? And she’s saying he’s the love of her life? Does he even know who she is? Every Cinderella dreams of marrying into wealth, but not just anyone off the streets can be the Godfather’s woman.” I walked out of the hospital and, in a daze, got onto the subway. At that moment, my phone vibrated. When I checked it, I saw that Elena had sent several photos in a row. They were wedding photos of her and Vincent, taken in Central Park. The wedding dress she wore was the same

He grunted as he took the document to which he signed without fault. “You’re right.” She muttered as he pushed it back over. She took a deep breath as she stared at the empty line clearly calling out to her.This was it. She was about to sell her soul, her body, her dignity, for a sum that could change her life forever. And so she did, signed the papers in the blink of an eye. “Perfect.” The lawyer clapped his hands, “Mr Ashford, Miss Heathrow. By the signage of this document, I can pronounce you a newly wedded couple. I would say kiss the bride if this was under much better—

I'm begging you! She looked completely unhinged as she fought against the bodyguards, trying to reach me. I looked at her indifferently and asked, "Why are you wearing that ring now?" "Because I want your love! I want us to get married again!" "Where were you when I was dying from an allergic reaction?" I quietly asked. Adella went silent, while I didn't stay any longer and turned to walk out of the alley with my bodyguards. … The next morning, I saw the local headlines. The report stated that a woman, who was buried in debt after her boyfriend fled with her money, had tracked him down.

"And the marriage certificate filed yesterday names the bride as Clara Hart. The signature on it belongs to Ava Hart. A marriage entered under a false identity is void under state law." The room tilted around Ava. "Which means," Edmund said with obvious pleasure, "that at midnight control of the company reverts to the trustee named in the will." "Victor," Liam said quietly. "Your uncle, yes." "He has been declared a fugitive." "A fugitive may still hold a trust, until a court rules otherwise, and no court will rule before midnight." Edmund smiled. "I am sorry, my boy. It seems you have eighteen hours to find a judge, a witness, and a legal bride who will not be shot at on the way."

The day I earned my Ph.D., I secretly flew home to surprise my father and brother. Instead, I walked in on them preparing a wedding for the housekeeper's daughter and my fiancé. My proud older brother, who had always listened to me, treated her like a princess. He not only gave her the wedding dress our mother had specially designed for me but even knelt to fix her train. Then my father, who had never lied to me before, stepped onto the stage and publicly announced that the housekeeper's daughter was her daughter. And I was the housekeeper's daughter. In my previous life, I chose to stay silent to protect the family's reputation. But in the end, they worked together to push me off a cliff. A

They felt that the king had known the hidden agenda they brought when they arrived with the bride. The king's hunters never failed the king, just this once when the bride went missing that they resorted to checking her residence. But she disappeared without a trace for how many days. Only to appear being captured by the half breeds hombre Gatos. The council didn't have to state that the bride might have already been corrupted by those people when the king himself could smell it from her. He decided to eliminate the woman with one wrong answer. If she had been thoroughly putrefied, she wouldn't even remember a thing about the dream. But she did. So he let her live...for the moment.