Promises Bridal Novels & Stories

The person I don't wanna see again was really Infront of me. "Dave?" I asked. "Yes Amber it's me, so glad you didn't forget my name" He said. How could I forget the person who broke me. "You need to sleep a little longer" Dave said to me. And I saw him injected something on me and it makes me slept again. The moment I wake up I saw Dave staring at me. "Hey, are you watching me while I'm sleeping?" I asked. "Yeah, you love it when I watched you sleeping" he answered. The heck he didn't forget those little things that I loved him doing. "Why did you drink too much alcohol I told you before that your body reacts bad on this activity right, look at you now you are here at the hospital instead of enjoying your bridal shower" He still a good man I know, he still the one who's got so angry when I drunk too much alcohol.

I was setting up a weekend shopping list on the tablet my husband had just replaced for our home system. A notification popped up. He had forgotten to log out of a shared, encrypted family calendar— one I didn’t recognize. There was only one unfamiliar profile photo. I tapped it. A list titled “My Little Princess – Personal Notes” filled the screen. My Little Princess doesn’t drink alcohol—only mineral water or herbal tea. No late nights. She needs absolute quiet to sleep. She gets anxious easily—keep fresh white lilies in the house and her favorite vanilla chocolates on hand. I scrolled slowly, my expression unreadable. The final entry was bolded. Highlighted. “Next Wednesday: take my Little Princess to choose her wedding crown.” I closed the screen. Then I picked up my phone and called my husband. “Love,” I said gently. “Does your Little Princess prefer a classic European bridal crown… or something more traditional? I thought I could help you choose.”

On the third anniversary of our engagement, my fiancé—Dominic Corleone, heir to one of the most powerful Mafia dynasties in New York—told me he was not ready to form a new family so that our wedding would have to postpone. I told myself to wait for some time, the bond between the Corleones and the Valentinos—our families’ sacred alliance—would hold us together. But what followed were his endless betrayals and tortures. I walked into a bridal boutique and saw him laughing with Liliane, the childhood friend who always lingered too close. I watched him destroy the wedding gown I had spent months designing—then crush my hand beneath his heel until it bled. And when I thought I had hit rock bottom, he proved I was wrong—by getting behind the wheel and running me down. He thought I’d beg and cling to him, terrified of losing the Corleone name and privilege that came with it. But instead, I made one phone call and insisted firmly on canceling the engagement. However, that call didn’t just end a marriage arrangement. It unearthed a secret that had been buried for over a decade…and turned a marriage born of duty into a story of dark devotion.

Today, I am going to marry the man I love, Damon Mark Olson. We didn’t have it easy. I am the veritable Cinderella and he was my handsome prince. People frowned on our relationship. Even his mother never failed to show her dislike for me at every opportunity. But Damon fought hard for me. At the church, I heard the first notes of Pachelbel's Canon in D and started my bridal walk. Damon looked dapper in his suit but he looked distracted, and his hair looked kind of mussed. Tenderness swept over me. When I reached his side, he took my hand. An electric current coursed through our connected skin. Damon looked startled, and I almost laughed, The priest gave us his blessings. And to Damon, he said, “You may now kiss your bride.” I held my breath as Damon very gently lifted my veil. Our eyes connected, and I saw a swirling mass of emotions in his gaze before his head dipped and gave me a kiss that jarred me. He kissed expertly, too expertly, that my eyes flew to his face. And that was when realization sank in. I was not kissing Damon Mark Olson. I was kissing someone who looked exactly like him.

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

Death was smiling in my face while I sank deeper into the darkness that surrounded me. The face that stared back at me was definitely not FAMILIAR. He had promised me heaven and earth with the promise of the position as his LUNA. I could almost feel my baby fighting for it's life too. I shut my eyes tightly with a heart full of regret and vengeance before uttering my last prayer to the moon goddess, "a chance to strike back". ******** Aria Jonas spends the best nights of her life, all full of pleasure and promises under the arms of the future Alpha of Blue Moon pack. He promises her the world as he claims her as his Luna in secret. Upon his inauguration as Alpha, Scott threw her away like trash as he picks his Luna. Pregnant and betrayed, she promises to reveal their affair only to pay the price with her life. Aria wakes up with a child in her arms ten years later and full of vengeance. She dicovers that she was saved by the Alpha of the most ruthless pack in the north, the Mysterious Alpha of Mystic Shadow pack. He trains and mold her into a perfect definition of herself and makes a comeback but in exchange for a contracted marriage and Scott's pack. Aria isn't the only one filled with hate for Blue moon pack as Alpha Tristan also shares a similar hatred. Aria gets locked in between her plan for vengeance and what her heart longed for. Would she continue in her quest for revenge or would she give love a chance again?

In Reychelle City, a contest was held to crown the most beautiful woman. After my cousin scarred my face, she seized first place with ease. What she never expected was that this year's contest wasn't for fame; it was to select the future wife of the Third Prince, a ruthless, bloodthirsty eunuch. That very afternoon, gifts poured in by the cartload. My betrothed panicked. That night, he tore up our engagement contract and carried my cousin into the bridal chamber. The next day, she trailed her lacquered fingertips across my cheek and sneered, "Alicia, with your ruined face, who would ever want you? Perhaps the beggar at the street corner might take you in." I caught her wrist, let out a cold laugh, and said, "Who told you I would marry a beggar?" Before her stunned eyes, I pushed open my parents' chamber doors. "Mom, since Maggie doesn't wish to be the prince's consort… let me take her place." Three years later, before the eyes of a shocked court, the Third Prince entered the grand hall with me at his side, with two children in tow. No one had foreseen it. This body of mine, blessed with the rarest gift of fertility, was the perfect match for a man believed incapable of siring heirs.

For centuries the Varkas and the Moon Reapers have spilled each other's blood beneath every full moon that they clash. Wolves call them butchers. Reapers call them beasts. Both call the other enemy. Then the Grand Council speaks a prophecy no one dares defy: only the union of a Varkas daughter and a Moon Reaper's son will stop the bloodshed and unite the families for once and for all. One marriage. One chance for peace. Aurora Varkas was never meant to wear the bridal dress. Born of her mother's betrayal, unable to shift, stripped of the sacred gifts that mark true Varkas blood, she has lived as an outcast in her own home. When her stepmother shoves her forward as the "true" bride to spare the legitimate daughter, Aurora has no choice but to obey. One whispered truth—that she is the wrong bride, the outcast, the fraud—could reignite a war that once nearly annihilated both kinds. Cassian Thorne, heir to the Moon Reapers, is a living weapon forged to kill wolves. He expects a spoiled Varkas princess as his bride, someone he can tolerate for the sake of duty, then quietly dispose of along with her family. What he gets is Aurora. Quiet. Broken. Powerless. Or so he thought. . .

After seeing the engagement invitation of her beloved man Anya Arora ran away like a coward. So picking up her broken heart and pride, distancing with everyone and binding herself with new shackles of promises, she left but she never knew she will met a devil who will make her life upside down.

She was back. She is innocent and beautiful. She was intimidated. He was ambitious. He is kind and handsome. He falls in love. In the sultry haze of passion’s fire, Two hearts collided, desire unbridled. Their love, a clandestine affair, Igniting flames that danced and swirled. Amidst tangled sheets and whispered vows, they wove a tale of stolen moments, Each touch a confession, each kiss a plea, To drown in the depths of their shared ecstasy. The moon bore witness to their stolen nights, As they traced constellations on bare skin, Their secrets etched in sweat and sighs, A love forbidden, yet impossible to rescind. But dawn arrived, cruel and unyielding, tearing them apart like fragile petals. Promises whispered, promises broken, Their hearts left bleeding, forever unsettled. And so, they became ghosts of passion, haunted by memories of that steamy affair, Their love a bittersweet ache, a silent confession, In the quiet hours when the world ceased to care. For love, once ignited, never truly dies, It lingers in the shadows, a smoldering flame, A testament to the heat of their stolen nights, A tale of love after a steamy affair, untamed.