The Brides Novels & Stories

Behind Darryl, Ambrose smiled widely, looking at Darryl with happiness in his eyes. Then, under the gaze of thousands, the brides entered. Instantly, there were cheers all around. Many men looked envious. The eight brides were drop-dead gorgeous! Debra, Yvette, Yvonne, Monica, Aurora, Shannon, Quincy, and Lily. They held hands and walked on stage. More importantly, each of the brides was of high status. Some were empresses, some were Sect Masters. It could be said that Darryl was living the ultimate dream of many men.

It is groom of honour's right and also the law of marriage to take the bride. Royalty won't call it rape or assault, they will name it rights. Genelia's mind wandered around a lot of things. Master had the power of making her restless even when not being around... "We will be leaving before noon, master ordered to get you ready madam!" One of the servers of Garcia's lining up in the bridal chamber then decided to speak witnessing the paused bride standing, lost in her thoughts. They guessed the meaning of her state right and decided to unfurled the mystery and end her curiosity.

’, I thought. . “In the same way, you are Master Cade’s bride.”, There are no mirrors in front of me but I knew the size of the eyes had grown in the shape of a melon. “But in werewolves, mates are paired by the Moon Goddess and here, Bride is chosen by the ruling King.” . Oh! . “King Black chose you as Master Cade’s bride assuming that you will also be strong and powerful just like your parents but it turned out that you are nowhere to them in terms of powers that’s why he wanted to get rid of you.”

She booked us a suite at the Wren, the hotel with the rooftop bar that overlooked half the city, and showed up at my door in a dress I hadn't seen before, her hair was already coming loose, and she looked so excited that she could barely stand still. Marry, she said, pulling me into a hug the second I opened the door. My best friend is about to be a MRS. The bar was dim and warm, with low music playing beneath the sound of people talking. We took a corner booth, ordered too much, and for a while, it felt like we were seventeen again, sitting together at lunch and talking about everything. Only now we were twenty-two, with champagne on the table. To Xavier, she said, lifting her glass. To fin

My top-secret sketch slipped out and scattered everywhere. Rebirth, the half-finished gown that I was going to complete for the international contest in Lutecia, rolled out of the suitcase as well. Its pure-white silk billowed in the air, and the embroidery on the lining gleamed like shimmering lines. A black van came to a stop at the roadside. A group of servants carefully helped Wendy out of the car. She deliberately swayed her hips as she approached Zachary and held his arm. "I couldn't find my iPad. Maybe I left it in the shop." Then, her eyes fell upon Rebirth, and they lit up. Wendy let go of Zachary and trotted over to Rebirth only to kick its hem.

I couldn't seem to stop. "The financiers on Swift's side have a covenant. Old money, extremely specific language. The deal includes a share exchange: Swift shares granted to the bride, Hartwell shares to the groom, and the covenant requires that whoever the bride is must be operationally qualified. Involved in the business. Not—" I stopped. "Not ceremonial." A long silence. "Not Celeste," Maya said. "Not Celeste." Another silence. Then Maya made a sound that was technically a snort but contained entire universes. "'Bride must have relevant aviation credentials.' They wrote that into a merger covenant."

Valentina took the chance to lean into his chest and confessed: “Luca… I love you so much. I just wish we could be a real couple.” His face darkened instantly and he pushed her away. “Valentina, I told you before. The one I love is Bianca, not you.” “Don’t ever say things like that again.” Valentina’s face went pale. She stared at him, stunned. “Luca… you’ve cancelled the wedding with Bianca. Are you still waiting for her?” “That has nothing to do with you.”

Pale, transparent… and wearing veils. I knew their names before they spoke them. Margaret. Eleanor. Ruth. Helen. Celia. Joan. The lost brides. Each wearing a variation of the same dress—ivory, time-worn, tattered at the hems. They did not look at me directly. They watched the fire. And then… one by one… they stepped in. With grace that no longer belonged to the living, they entered the flames. And they began to dance. Around me. With me.

“It’s alive…it’s watching us…” The hallway vibrated with a low groan that rattled through the walls. Then the doors began to swing open one after another. Figures emerged from the doors—brides, dozens of them, their gowns tattered, veils dripping with ash, and their faces contorted in anguish. Each one stared at Camela. One of the brides raised her head. Her voice echoed the same as the First Bride's—seductive yet icy. “Run, bride. Run.” Camela froze, her bloodied hands gripped Vincent tightly as she said. “She’s everywhere…she’s inside all of them.”

Inside the bridal suite, a whirlwind of energy enveloped the room, bursting forth with laughter and playful banter as the bridesmaids gathered around the stunning bride. “Oh my goodness, girl, you’ve hit the jackpot! Six feet three of pure, debonair charm waiting for you at the altar!” one of the bridesmaids teased, her cheeky grin lighting up the room like confetti. “Wave goodbye to those lonely, dull nights ahead! Beverly, prepare for evenings brimming with fiery passion!” another chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief and genuine affection for her friend, radiating an infectious sense of camaraderie. “And I hear those ex