Novelas y relatos de Ghost Bride

Simply red nails filed to a serpents tooth touch and berry stained lips of violet. “You came too, my Bride,” the mysterious woman winked. “This must be Vanaheim, where I am to meet the ghost of my mother. My guardian spirit has come to bring me home. Did I die, fair protector?” I murmured, flushing as I noticed she was in revealing Eastern robes, something called a kimono that Yuri was always trying to unsuccessfully replicate from purchases from the Peri traders at the ice markets. I sighed, smiling. “At least I may finally know peace, and am no longer draugr.”

Amelia said, using one hand with force, "So what if I wrecked your lair and stopped you guys from reincarnating." "It's been over a hundred years. When did you ever apologize to Callie for what you did when you were alive?" "If you guys really thought you were wrong, you wouldn't have used your daughter to please the more powerful Lich Lord the evil spirits after she died." "You guys never really changed deep down." Amelia had already noticed this when she came into town. The money she set aside for a rainy day was never for nothing. It was because she heard a bride crying. When walking at night, the ones you ran into like this were usually called ghost brides

He was beside her in an instant. “Did I hurt you, Lia? Are you injured?” “Nay, husband.” She peeked out at him from the edge of the counterpane, “I used a trick my mother told me before she died.” “What trick is that?” “She told me that English men like a woman to bleed on the wedding night, but many lasses don’t, even if they have not been with a man. She told me that lasses put a leach in their channel for a bit a day or two before the wedding to make a weak spot so coupling will shed some blood. I had thought that all the emissary would need was a bloody sheet and mother's trick would provide that for us.”

Silas Sterling had not arrived. "What should we do?" the priest hissed. "Keep going," Chloe commanded, her voice cold. The crowd's mockery grew louder. "Did he stand her up?" "Is even a dying beast too good for a Vance reject?" A drunken man from the front row—a guest Chloe recognized from the manor the night before—stood up and blocked the priest. "Let's have a toast for the bride!" he shouted, mocking her for "performing" a wedding with a ghost. "To the cheap replacement!"

The day before my wedding, I discovered my fiancé's close female friend had turned the church into a bloody haunted house. When I confronted my fiancé, Yves Laurent, he blamed me for making a fuss. After I called the wedding off, he suddenly regretted it. - I never expected that Yves Laurent—who always seemed so honest and steady—could harbor such a grim, macabre taste. Our wedding was tomorrow. The whole city's respectable families would be in attendance; if they saw a horror-show themed ceremony, they would mock me without mercy.

The jet sat silent on the tarmac, its engines cold, the boarding stairs still retracted. "Sir, we can’t reach the tower," the mechanic muttered, avoiding Abram's gaze. Abram didn't hear him. He was staring at the perimeter gate. While Abram waited for a ghost, I walked through the glass doors of the Council’s headquarters. The white silk of my wedding gown trailed behind me, whispering against the granite floor. I hadn’t changed. I wanted them to see the blood-stained bride. I wanted them to see the "Saint" who had survived the monster.

He didn't invite any relatives or friends. At the time, he explained that we lived in a new city. Even if we announced our wedding, our friends wouldn't be able to come anyway. It would've just looked like we were asking for wedding gifts. We might as well have kept it simple and got married unannounced. We could hold another celebration after we went back. I didn't think much of it back then, but now that I thought about it, his arrangement was clearly just a roundabout way of creating an opportunity for Mia to take my place as the bride.

I touched my cheek once, just to make sure it was still me. The drive took nearly another hour. The city thinned into quiet roads and tall trees until a pair of wrought-iron gates swung open. Beyond them stretched perfect gardens and a large fountain in front of a mansion that looked more like a private hotel than a home. Staff waited at the bottom of the staircase. Matthew opened my door. “This way, ma’am.” I climbed the wide steps. An older woman in a navy dress with a silver brooch at her collar met me at the top.

There were so many of them. Was this place really the resting place of the brides Adam had killed? But why? Why would he commit such atrocities? "She's the new one," I heard someone whisper. With a start, I turned around and saw two transparent figures floating above two grave stones. They both had long blonde hair and very pale skin. One of them had brown eyes. The other had blue eyes. "Who are you?" I asked, and they exchanged bewildered glances. "We're ghosts," they echoed, and I swallowed hard, my stomach squirming with discomfort.

She arched her brows, “What does this have to do with me not going— “You can’t go home. You’re my wife and as per the customs require, you’re to come home with me this instant.” He said. Her eyes widened, “I…I have to prepare. This is all happening so fast. I can’t possibly leave my old life in only a matter of minutes?! I have clothes, I have Bobo to take care of!” “Who’s Bobo?” “My Dog!” “That’s a stupid name for a Dog.” “Don’t insult my intelligence, Mr Ashford!”