Shattered Vow Novels & Stories

Once trust was broken, it was hard to rebuild. "I need to end this call now," she stated, her tone more composed but still assertive. "My attention is needed now. Will talk to you later. Take care." Andrew gulped with difficulty. "Okay." I understand. "Stay safe, my love." Without saying anything further, the call ended. Vivian put down her phone, taking a deep breath. Her wolf continued to roam beneath the surface, unfulfilled. However, one thing was clear-she would not permit herself to be humiliated. If they aimed to set her up, they would need to deal with the repercussions.

“Catherine won’t find peace until she’s killed Zarek. It’s the one constant that’s driven her all these years. She took a vow. She’s sworn to do everything in her power to see it fulfilled. Nothing you say or do will stop that.” “She vowed herself?” “Yes.” The information changes everything I’d planned. Vowing yourself as an immortal or supernatural means you can’t turn away—even if you want to. It’s more than honor. A vow becomes a living thing, something that can never be denied. Some believe that by speaking the word, a spell is evoked—unbreakable until the promise is kept. Failing to keep it brings enormous suffering. “Why?” I ask, my voice low. “What could be so important that she’d sac

I looked over at Damon, and the same concern swirled in his eyes. "The prisoner is yours. Remember, a vow with a dragon is a vow for life. Break it without consent, and you will only curse yourself. Garren will decide when the vow is no longer needed." Before we could say anymore, they pushed Apollo forward and stepped back into the shadows. Their presence was no longer detectable as if they had vanished into the air itself. "You bastard," Damon shouted as he charged for Apollo. His hand was formed into a fist as he aimed for him. Apollo didn't even bother to defend himself. He didn't even flinch when Damon's fist connected with the side of his face.

Not kind. “If you give your heart to him,” she said, “you will not survive.” Seraphine’s breath hitched. “But the vow—” “The vow does not love you. It does not care for your soul, your dreams, or the shape of your body in the night. It was made in desperation and greed. It was sealed with blood and desire. You are merely the end of its chain.” The lilies trembled around them, bowing as if in mourning. “Break it,” Seraphine said.

It would never be me. My heart didn't ache. It shattered, a silent, screaming fracture that ripped me in two. Nausea churned, hot and acidic, in my gut. Every whispered confession, every stolen glance, every secret touch replayed in my mind—not as cherished memories, but as a dizzying, venomous lie. I had drunk it down with a fool’s thirst. I wrapped my arms around my torso, a desperate, futile attempt to hold myself together. An oath to his dying mother... I could never ask him to break such a vow. I could never compete with a ghost.

They call him the most dangerous billionaire in New York City, and I still went ahead and fell in love with him. Now my heart is broken. I take a deep breath, stiffen my jaw and give him my own vows; “On this day, Mason Lachlan, I vow to hate you until I draw my last breath. I loved you once, maybe a part of me still does, but I vow never, ever to show you that weak part of me ever again. I'm broken because you broke me, but I vow to pick myself from the pieces and when I do, I vow to fight back.

The shadow staggered, blood dripping, but the shard held, its power growing. “You can’t break it,” it hissed. “It’s your bond.” Aria’s heart sank. A vision hit her the Goddess, binding the shard with her blood, tying it to Aria and Kael’s love. “Only love can break it,” she’d said. But the vision twisted: breaking the shard meant breaking their bond and their lives. “Kael,” she gasped, tears falling. “It’s us. Our bond.” His eyes burned with defiance. “No. We fight.”

he whispered, his eyes dark with the weight of his past actions, “because I hated myself. Because I was too proud, too broken, too afraid to understand why you mattered more than anything. Why your existence turned my world upside down. I understand now, Amara. You’re not just a part of me. You’re the one thing that makes me whole. The missing piece of my fractured soul.” His cut joined the others, a third thread of blood, vibrant and alive, binding in the bowl. Three distinct crimson rivers merging into one, a powerful, swirling vortex of sacrifice and commitment. The ancient magic of the altar thrummed, responding to the raw emotion, the undeniable truth of their vows. Then it was my turn.

In the dark, unforgiving recesses of his mind, he swore his own private oath. 'I take you, Seraphina Vance, not to honor, but to break. I vow to strip away that beautiful, serene facade until you feel a fraction of the agony you inflicted on my family. I vow to never grant you my warmth, never grant you your freedom, and never allow myself to feel a single shred of mercy for you.' It was a vow born of pure, blinding vengeance. A completely wrong vow—but as he took the heavy band from the velvet cushion, he had never been more certain of his hatred.

He was staking a claim. "And you need to understand something right now, Clara," he said, his voice dropping into a register so dark, so absolute, it vibrated straight through my bones, echoing in the deepest chambers of my heart. I stared up into his pitch-black eyes. I was completely mesmerized. Entirely captured. The chains of my old life were dissolving in the water around me. "What?" "You are never going back to that house," he promised. It wasn't a suggestion. It wasn't a comforting piece of advice from a concerned friend. It was a terrifying, absolute, blood-oath vow. The sheer conviction in his tone made my blood run completely cold with a dizzying mixture of sheer terror and wild, f