Male Bride Novels & Stories

] This was the class group. It was none other than Bridget who had sent the message. She had accompanied her lover and taken their child to the doctor at our wedding and had cheated on me for six years. Not only did she send the message, but she even sent a pre-wedding photo of the two of them. [Wow! What a lovely couple!] [I’ll definitely be there for the wedding banquet. Wishing the newlyweds a long-lasting marriage. May you grow old together and have a healthy child soon!]

My breath caught in my throat. Unable to believe what I'd just heard, I pressed the button again. Only when Cameron Finch's voice sounded again did I realize I hadn't misheard the first time. With trembling fingers, I tapped into Marissa Becker's Instagram, where the latest post was unmistakably a photo taken in a bridal shop. The caption read, "Picking out wedding dresses with the love of my life! I'm going to be the prettiest bride." The man in the photo was only half-visible, but I'd recognize that silhouette anywhere, even with my eyes closed.

“Whoa! Isn't he crazy? How could he frame the bride on her first wedding night?! Oh Lord! Even her husband is crazier! How could he trust someone he just met more than his wife? Crazy, they're all crazy!” Sena remembered one of the soap opera scenes she had watched with her mother. The scene where someone deliberately hires a foreign man to enter the bridal chamber and traps the bride as if she is having an affair right on her first wedding night. Unfortunately, in that soap opera, the woman's husband takes her for granted and thinks his wife is having an affair and then divorces the poor woman. Since that day, everyone labeled the bride as an unfaithful woman, making her shunned by many peo

"The enemy is too strong. We can't hold them off. Let's just them through. Everyone thought that it made sense. After all, they had received so much money, so of course, they had to speed things up a bit and let the handsome groom sweep his bride off her feet sooner. Branden was walking at the forefront and smoothly arrived at the door of the bride's room. The bridesmaids announced that they had reached the final checkpoint of the day. "As long as you can find the wedding shoes, our handsome groom can walk away with our beautiful bride." Catherine was sitting on the bed in a gorgeous gown, looking dignified and imposing, with a face that could charm all living beings. Everyone who walked in

Hopefully. “The last claimed bride is . . .” she turned her whole body to watch us and let a pause settle over the room, most likely to draw out the suspense, but instead, she was highlighting my shame. “Blaire Ashbourne. Step on up darling, come claim your man.” She paused and tilted her head at the paper again, “Fredrick Marlowe. Come claim your man. Blaire, you’ve been bought by Fredrick Marlowe of the Ice Peak pack. Fred come snag your woman so we can all get the ceremony underway.”

"You may kiss your bride." Neither of us moved for a full three seconds. Then the groom leaned in slowly, just enough that his lips brushed the edge of my cheek, not quite a kiss and not quite nothing. His mouth stopped at my ear instead, his voice dropping so low only I could hear it. "Whoever you are…" A pause. "This marriage ends tomorrow."

My eyes fall on the paper I dumped less than two hours ago. My breath catches. I put a hand on my chest. I scan my eyes over it. There are so many expectations for the bride: *The bride has to be young and cultured. *The bride has to be of noble birth. *She has to obey and submit to her husband. I keep reading, growing bored. Just as I’m about to toss it into the trash, my eyes fall on the last item on the list. *The bride has to be a virgin* My hand trembles slightly.

I wanted him to touch me, kiss me, make love to me because he was going to be my man who never for once looked at another women in last six months. "Oh My God! My baby, you're looking the prettiest bride ever. I can't believe you're finally getting married to the man who loves you passionately." Mom's emotional voice put a halt on my thought process. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The bride dressed in an expensive white wedding gown with real pearls and silver threads embedded and diamond jewelries and perfect make-up, it didn't look like Emma Stone but would be Emma Black. "Mom, please don't start your melodrama now. We have spent a week's make over and six hours on her makeup. Yo

Smiled. “Instead,” he said, stepping back, “I’ve asked someone else to be my bride.” My knees nearly gave way but I stood still, every cell in my body screaming. Out of the crowd, she stepped forward. Clarissa. My sister. Wearing my dress. "Liam," I breathed. "What are you doing?" He didn’t answer me. He extended his hand, to her. “Clarissa, love, come here.” And just like a rehearsed pageantry, she strode down the red carpet, a smile carved on her lips as she walked towards him, confident, calm and cruel.