Savior Black Veil Brides Novels & Stories

She reached out and clasped my hand tightly. "Ms. Milton, I know my request sounds inappropriate… But my son's critically ill. The doctors say there's nothing more they can do." Tears silently rolled down Susan's cheeks as she continued, "I'm out of options. I've reached a point where I'm willing to try anything. "Please marry my son. Your chart holds the kind of healing energy he needs to stay alive. Will you agree to do this? All I ask is that you help him stay alive."

“This is your wedding night—but not your black wedding. Tonight, you must satisfy your husband, quench his thirst. If you’re wise and want to keep your place in this house, you’ll do everything in your power to please him.” “Wait… what do you mean by black wedding?” I asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Grace’s expression shifted—her voice dropped to a whisper. “Your husband isn’t just a man. He’s a ruler. A king in this underworld. A black wedding is a sacred blood oath that binds two souls in the Mafia. It’s done only after the white wedding... but only if the bride proves herself worthy.” My mouth went dry. “Blood oath? And what if I don’t prove myself worthy?”

“We’re going out.” Those were the first words he had spoken to me since the disaster in the bedroom, since I had made the fatal mistake of moaning Stefano’s name while he was between my legs. I picked up the dress with trembling fingers. It felt like nothing in my hands. It was black mesh, delicate, sheer, and cruel. It wasn't designed to clothe a woman; it was intended to strip her bare while she wore it. The front was a plunging V that stopped at my navel, and the back didn't exist. The sides were held together by tiny, fragile silk threads that looked as if they would snap at the slightest breath.

Everyone who made me cry, everyone who killed me. *** The ceremonial hall doors opened with a grand flourish. My face was hidden behind a white veil as my father took my hand. We walked down the aisle together, pack members from both sides clapping and cheering like this was some fairy tale come true. Adrian stood at the altar, that perfect smile plastered on his face. The same smile he’d worn while betraying me. Looking at him now, knowing what I knew, I wanted to shift and let my wolf tear his throat out. The pain was suffocating, crushing my chest from the inside. Before I could stop them, tears slipped down my cheeks.

“I love you. I’ll meet you at the altar.” “I love you too.” Salvatore rushed back to the groom’s suite and found his father, Martin, and Aiden waiting for him with a young woman. She was wearing a sleek, black gown with a high neckline and holding a slim tablet in the crook of her elbow. “They’re ready for you, Mr. Bradford,” the young woman addressed him. Salvatore and the other gentlemen followed her to the places they were directed, and his dad stepped up beside him with a hearty clap on his back. “Son, I can’t tell you how much I’ve prayed for this day.”

I said his name in a whisper, watching him kneel on the ground with his mate’s dead body in his arms. “Savia!” seeing her body covered in bruises and a silver dagger through her chest crumbled my heart. “She is g---one!” he let out a weep to announce the agony his heart was feeling. “Ahh! She is gone!” the wailing brides repeated after him, crying and yelling while terrorizing the pack once again. It was then I noticed I was the only one accompanying my brother because the others were too afraid to get a glimpse of the wailing Brides. Though the wailing brides never interacted or got into physical contact with anyone due to being made of dust, they have the pack appalled.

And then she appeared. I’d seen photographs — but nothing prepared me for this. She didn’t walk down the aisle. She owned it. Owned the silence. Owned the gasps. A black veil covered her face, but I could still see the curve of her jaw, the smirk tugging at her lips, the gleam in her dangerous eyes. Her gown was more like a funeral dress — hugging every curve with unapologetic sex appeal. Not a bride. A black widow. And somehow… I was both furious and intrigued.

Seb asked on which Swara gave him a narrow look and said, “Now it’s proven that you are a vampire,” she said in a serious tone on which Seb gave her “have you gone mad look “and said, “what?” “Yes, you didn’t go in the sunlight just like vampires don’t go in sunlight. That day you were drinking blood just like vampires, before that, one day I saw you coming back to home late at night fully dressed in black clothes, you also don’t sleep just like vampires, and once I saw your eyes pure black same as vampires, so hence prove that you are a Vampire,” Swara completed her ranting.

I shook my head, "I made a mistake- I had no idea, I thought it was-" "A legend? A fairy tale?" He queried. "Yes." I said desperately hoping he would understand my predicament and let me go. "Sorry my child, by standing there in that dress waiting for our Lordship, you have already acted out your vows." He replied sullenly. "Are you the Price of Darkness?" "No, I am the bishop Blackwater. I shall be ordaining your wedding tonight." "What do you mean?" "Come, Madame. Your husband awaits," he said, taking my arm and tugging me up the aisle.

She could feel it on her skin, the weight of attention pressing in from every direction. Even the waitress who approached their table paused for just a fraction too long, her gaze flicking over Elara’s face before forcing a professional smile. Elara leaned toward Lisa and Felix. “Do you know what’s going on?” she asked quietly. Lisa didn’t answer right away. She pulled out her phone and slid it across the table. Elara looked down and her breath caught. The headline screamed at her. “Bride Leaves Wedding With Another Man: Who Is the Mysterious Groom?”