The Captive Bride Novels & Stories

He raised his hand, noticing the dangerous glint in my eyes as he stalled. "Well, technically. Yes. Young fertile ladies are taken over there and are trained to pleasure any starved wolf. You can buy a bride from there." I cock a brow. 'This is interesting.' "We leave first thing in the morning!"

Her skin was pale and her blonde hair despite it being rough fell over her back and shoulders like a waterfall. It was her eyes that captivated him the most. As he gazed at her, his eyes bore into her soul as he felt as if he had stumbled on a long lost creature. He was drawn to her with such an intensity that he knew he had to have her, No matter the cost. Without further hesitation he called out his bid shocking the crowd with the high sum and was immediately announced sold to him. He watched as she stared at him as the was being released from the chains. She stood still and calmly as she gazed at him. He walked up to her as he heard several whispers from the crowd “He must be so wealthy”

But then she noticed the the cashier giving the other employees signs which was getting her confused. Before she knew it she saw tons of guards rushing in with Adrain leading them. It seems like the first day they met when he came for Rome’s wallet. The day she was taken to Rome as a thief and she was forced to marry Rome in exchange for her imprisonment.

But for now, she was trapped, at the mercy of her captor. The kiss was a punishment, a reminder of her failed escape attempt. Collins was asserting his dominance, showing her who was in control. Isabella's heart raced with frustration and fear, her body tense with resistance. She knew she had to find a way to escape, to get away from him before it was too late. But for now, she was trapped in his embrace, forced to endure the kiss that felt like a brand of ownership.

“Could she be another rogue? Someone more devious than Lady Camilla?” This time, I speak up. “What if she was captured too? And maybe forced to be his bride?” Raina scoffs. “Nonsense. Forced to be his bride? Any woman would kill herself before reaching the altar to marry him. One thing I know—if she stays hidden too long, Lady Camilla will get frustrated and take it out on us.” “And now she has her eyes on both of us. She thinks one of us knows the bride, since we’re among the newest members in the territory.” Panic creeps into her voice as her brows crease in frustration. “How are we going to find the bride and tell her?

Smiled. “Instead,” he said, stepping back, “I’ve asked someone else to be my bride.” My knees nearly gave way but I stood still, every cell in my body screaming. Out of the crowd, she stepped forward. Clarissa. My sister. Wearing my dress. "Liam," I breathed. "What are you doing?" He didn’t answer me. He extended his hand, to her. “Clarissa, love, come here.” And just like a rehearsed pageantry, she strode down the red carpet, a smile carved on her lips as she walked towards him, confident, calm and cruel.

I turned. The mirror glowed faintly in the dark, like a window lit from another world. The woman inside it moved—not like a ghost, but like a prisoner pacing her cage. She pointed toward the wall. I followed her gaze—toward a painting. A young bride in colonial lace. Her eyes held secrets. Her smile… defeat. The name beneath: > “Anindya Damar, 1893 – Disappeared on Her Wedding Night.” The voice returned, stronger. > “The curse feeds on brides. On purity. On memory. But one bride... was never forgotten.”

I waited for him to elaborate while holding my breath. “Here's the deal, Thirty four million dollars, a hefty sum, wouldn't you say? And to think, it was all lost in gambling the same night they got it. I can take care of it, make it disappear. All gone. No more worries or threats from anybody. All you have to do is agree to marry me. For two years, a contractual marriage. No love, no feelings and definitely no drama. Just two people with a common goal.” With that he paused, letting it sink in while I stared at him in utter shock.

They lingered on me, the intensity of his stare making my insides curl. He was different from every man I had ever known. He stood and at once my gaze dropped to the floor. “She's here, Don,” the lady beside me muttered and at once, her hand drove to my back as she was about to force me to my knees. “What are you doing, Isa?” His voice came, his steps echoing on the concrete as he stepped forward. “Don't make my bride kneel.”

I spend the entire flight gripping the seat and trying not to puke while Elias watches me with that stupid amused look. “Where are we even going?” I yell over the noise. “You’ll see.” We land on a rooftop in the middle of nowhere upstate. There’s a chapel, tiny, stone, looks centuries old. Rose petals all over the ground. A priest standing there like this is normal. I climb out on shaky legs. “You rented an entire chapel for a blackmail wedding?” “I own the chapel.” Of course he does. There’s no one witness, some guy in a suit who looks bored. No music. No flowers inside. Just candles and the priest who keeps checking his watch.