Sacred Vows Novels & Stories

said an elder of our colony with his holy book. "I am ready," he pledged firmly. And now, it was my turn. It felt so heavy to make the sacred vows with the Alpha I hadn't seen in years. But the thought of being expelled from my pack scared me more. The choice was no longer in my favor. "I am ready," I said, reciting the sacred vows. "Alright, you are now welcome to kiss. Groom, please bite your mate's neck as a mark. After that, in the name of the Holy Gods you are officially fated mates for life," said the elder.

There were no siblings to stand beside him, no elderly mother to wipe a tear of joy. Only his betas. The loyal warriors. His omegas. They stood behind him like shadows—strong, quiet, unwavering. The moment the priest raised his hands to begin the rites, the air in the hall hushed. The vows were spoken in the old tongue. The ceremonial binding of hands followed. A white thread symbolizing union, loyalty, and fate was tied around our wrists. I recited the words carefully, my voice barely above a whisper, but steady. “I accept the bond. In blood, in spirit, in soul.”

“This vow is not just a promise. It is a binding seal. Should either of you betray the sacred trust, the consequences will unravel the very fabric of our world.” A cold wind swept through the hall, extinguishing the torches along the walls. Darkness pressed close, broken only by the flickering sigils beneath their feet. Elara swallowed hard. The weight of her choice pressed down with crushing certainty. “Are you certain?” the priestess asked, her gaze piercing. “Once spoken, there is no turning back.” Elara’s voice was steady, though her soul trembled. “I am certain.” Kael echoed, his voice low and fierce. “So am I.”

I’ve had too much of that in the past and know if I have to slip up now, it would be the end of me. Wedding vows are sacred, even if spoken by a witch.

The charismatic priest, in his flowing robes of white and gold, stood before us, his voice resonating through the grand church. "Dearly beloved," he began, his words weaving a tapestry of love and commitment. "We are gathered here today to witness the unbreakable bond between two souls, who in the presence of God and their loved ones, pledge their lives to one another."

“Sophia is right. They will come for you. Loving me is a breach of every law—family, society, blood. But contracts are not meant to be easy. They are meant to be tested.” He took her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles with reverence. “Do you understand, Kira? This vow may demand fire. It may demand blood. But if you stay… you will never face it alone. Not for a single breath.” Tears burned her eyes, but she nodded, her whisper steady. “Then let the fire come. We’ll sign it with our scars.” And when he kissed her, sealing the vow, it was no longer just love. It was a contract written in blood and fire—eternal, unbreakable, dangerous.

Whenever anyone said I wasn’t worthy of him, he would take my hand and stand beside me without hesitation. Back when Grandma Mae was alive, she had patted his hand and entrusted me to him. His eyes had blazed with certainty as he swore, "Don’t worry, Grandma. I love Lila more than I love myself. I’ll never let her suffer. I promise, we’ll marry in your courtyard, so you can watch her walk down the aisle with your own eyes." Those words had been carved in stone, eternal and unshakable. Alas, I had forgotten that even stone can be worn down, and time can dissolve even the most solemn vows.

Marco stepped in, steam curling around him like some kind of dramatic entrance effect. The buzzcut only made his already sharp face sharper. "I should be fasting today," he said, settling across from me in his all-white habit like some chill, holy hot priest. Then—he grabbed a slice of meat and popped it in his mouth. Broth clung to his lips. Distracting. Too distracting. "Thought you were fasting?" He licked the corner slow, deliberate. "Fridays are for fasting. But I'd break any rule for you."

"Trash like you cheating in marriage… You won’t get a cent of his money!" Mr. Grant boomed in a righteous voice, "Adulterous scum must leave with nothing!" "Divorce her! The Grants won’t tolerate this filth!" I lifted my head. A wall of faces surrounded me, towering above, condemning me like a jury. My throat clogged with tears I couldn’t release. When I bit down hard, copper flooded my mouth. My voice was hoarse as I said, "Leave with nothing? Sure! Divorce? Fine!"