The Dead Bride Novels & Stories

“I just wish Adrian would tell me what’s wrong.” Her eyes slowly became heavy. A few minutes later she fell asleep, having no idea that, far away inside a mansion…. Something terrible was going on. ** Deep under the mansion.. The candles burned brighter, the strange marks on the floor slowly started glowing with a dark red light. Clara lay on a cold stone, her hands and legs were tied down, she was shaking, and she couldn’t stop crying. Adrain stood a few steps away watching her quietly. The room felt so cold.

So I knew what a dead bride meant to a man like Vittorio DeLuca, and I knew what it would mean to the men on the other side of this alliance who had been looking for a reason to put their guns back on the table. The peace between our families was three years and a wedding away from becoming permanent. It was held together with wire and goodwill and not much else, and if I said the words Isabella is dead before those vows were spoken, that thin fragile wire would snap. So I didn't rush out of the room in a panic. Instead, I did something terrible. Something I would likely never be forgiven for. I walked into the room. I picked up the wedding dress. I hesitated for a brief moment.

"You know that I'm his real wife, so why are you playing along with this ruse, May?" The moment those words left my mouth, the color faded from both of their faces, while the audience erupted in confusion. "Is this woman mad? Why did she call the bride May?" "Didn't May get caught in an explosion a month ago?" "That's right! Since when could the dead come back to life?" "You're right, they can't. Unless… she didn't die in the first place!" The hall exploded into chaos, conversations erupting from every direction. Clearly having lost his calm, Ben shouted, "Where is your proof?!"

My young mistress's betrothed was dying, and she ordered me to marry him in her place to turn his luck. People believed the joy of a wedding could drive out sickness and misfortune, and that a dying man might be pulled back from the grave by it. "The royal physicians all say Lord Blackwell won't live past seven days! Why should I marry him only to be buried at his side? "He's never even seen me. You can marry him instead. "You're nothing but a lowborn maid. Being allowed to marry the regent is the luck of a lifetime." Before I could react, the glowing words appeared before my eyes again. [Celeste is such an idiot. What does she mean, he won't live past seven days? Lord Blackwell has the

I assume he’s the groom’s father. The groom looked at me and slowly stepped down. He walked closer and closer, and I instinctively stepped back. “Kath.” I froze when he said my name. How does he know me? “Katherine is dead! That’s not Kath, Lawrence! She’s probably an impostor trying to ruin our wedding!” the bride shouted angrily and rushed toward me. “And who told you I’m dead? Can’t you see I’m standing here, talking?” I replied, though my heart was pounding hard.

Breathing heavily, she crawled up from the ground and walked inside the house. Inside the room, the bride was already dressed in a snow-white wedding dress. She was shy as she faced the mirror, unable to hide the happiness on her face. But in Lauren Serrano 's eyes, it was extremely dazzling. A brick appeared in Lauren Serrano 's hand. She threw it with a bang at the back of the bride's neck, crisp and clean — "En!" The bride groaned before collapsing limply to the ground. She had fainted.

“I told you. You better not get involved with him. I have known him for years, more than a decade. It’s just a piece of warning for my little slave.” “How thoughtful you are, Master Calix,” I whispered back sarcastically. The mellow music from the orchestra enveloped the hall as the bride walked her way to the altar. She was in a beautiful white dress, and she was walking with Beaumont, which gave me the idea that their father was gone, or maybe had fled to the other side of the world. The bride was pretty. She had that joyous smile on her lips while suppressing her tears. But as they were nearing where I stood, I noticed the woman’s eyes weren’t golden but black. A big question fell into my

I said before I continued my speech. "Ummm so I need a bride as soon as yesterday. I have drawn up a contract which states that I will marry a girl and offer her 3 million dollars and after 6 months we go our separate ways. Pretend as though nothing happened." I said, and lifted right her eyebrow in awe as I pushed the file papers across the table to her. "So, here is the contract. You're the chosen girl for me." I said and handed her the contract with a smirk and she looked dumbfounded and bewildered. Her mouth was just hanging open, speechless and in shock.

Yes, my husband, who has not given me a single glance yet. "Now, you may kiss the Bride," the priest announced. Hearing this, I stiffened, and my fist was sweating, but I acted as orderly as I could. I fisted my palm and clenched my jaw to control my emotions. He eventually turns towards me, and I stare at his face, but he has no expression. No smile, no anger, no affection, no frustration, and moreover, NO LOVE! I crave to laugh at the thought: Is there someone on earth who can even love me?

Scarlett then noticed both her attire and her mother's turned into old grey gowns with white bonnets over their heads. "Where are we?" She asked her mother, a breeze blowing over their gowns. "Home. Pastonville, 1699." _______________________________________________ No one would stand absolutely NO CHANCE in taking on the Crimson Bride. Zayne knew that. An untamed she-beast until one who takes her blood controls her. The power from her reawakening was so immense, that he could still feel it even if he went out of state. The scent from her was incredible, warm caramel invading his nostrils. His taste buds tinkled and his anticipation kept his stomach twisting into knots and twists. He knew wh