The Painted Veil Novel Novels & Stories

The old priest looked up. "The original guardians." Silence followed. Elyra stared at the endless list. The names stretched across the chamber floor. Hundreds of years of history. Hidden beneath the monastery. Forgotten by the world. Then suddenly Zevarion stopped walking. His attention fixed on something near the platform. Elyra followed his gaze. A portrait. Old. Very old. Yet surprisingly preserved. The painting showed a young woman. Beautiful. Kind eyes. Dark hair. For a second, Elyra couldn't understand why Zevarion had frozen.

3rd POV. Somewhere at the Veil, an island that holds the covenant between the dead and the undead. "Just stop, please! " She snapped pretty hard at him, her blonde, box-braided hair was drenched on the influence of the mysterious rumbling clouds, striking down heavy rains. She did not know she could do that, betraying him was not on her bucket list. Why would he come back, knowing the consequences? Why didn't he just go afar? She was thawed.

Micah stood guard on the northern line, having the same doubts as Camerin. The witch pressed her palms into the ground. Wind picked up from nowhere. The trees moaned. Then the grave glowed a deep, unnatural blue only for a second and then fell deathly still. “It’s done,” she said, voice strained. “The veil is sealed. Nothing should come through it now.” Should. I caught the look she shared with Celia. Kate must’ve noticed too, because her voice cut through the quiet like a blade. “What aren’t you saying?”

Silence. “He thinks Richard was poisoned.” Samuel’s face went pale. “That’s impossible.” Marcus looked at him. “Why?” “Because…” Samuel swallowed hard. “…the only poison that causes delayed bleeding was created for the Dominion.” Gabriel’s expression darkened. “So they’ve finally started using Black Veil.” Amelia frowned. “What is Black Veil?” Gabriel looked directly at her. “A poison designed to kill slowly.” “It gives its victim just enough time…” “…to reveal every secret they were trying to protect.”

THE UNSEEN HUSBAND Sebastian found the journal by accident. It was three days after the confrontation with Helena, and he'd been looking for a book to read to the children before bed. Alessia had mentioned keeping some books in the chest by the window, so he'd opened it without thinking. Inside, beneath a few worn volumes, was a leather-bound journal. He almost closed the chest immediately—it was clearly private, clearly Alessia's—but the page it was open to caught his eye. Not because of nosiness, but because of the handwriting. The same careful script from the letters Helena had intercepted, but this time formed into poetry.

Both he and the animal had been frightened by the strange and careless figure of that woman, who was looking at him in dismay and embarrassment at that moment. He could not say she was ugly, since she wore her face hidden under a red veil, but, there was a reason she covered it that way, wasn't there? If he were to judge by the rest of her appearance, then the verdict would be an unattractive woman who should take more care of her appearance. Her long hair was surrounded by that veil, but, even so, it was notoriously careless and tangled, he could compare it to a bird's nest or something like that.

I blinked twice to be certain I was not dreaming of seeing double. There was a painting of an old wrinkled building Without shutters. The painting style was unique in that the inside of the house could be seen as a faded image if one looked closely. In one part of the house, a man hung from the ceiling with a black veil. But I could not help from staring at the two girls looking at each other with utter contempt. They were both in the same predicament; looking pale, sick, and tortured. “Wow,” I mouthed the word and felt my breathing grow shallow as I gazed at the painting. "No doubt, it is her painting. How did you get this?"

“We will seal the veil, end this. And when it’s done, when you’re free we decide what comes next. Together.” I nodded, my throat burning. Nora stood quietly, giving us space. But before she reached the door, she paused. “There’s one more thing,” she said softly. “My mother wrote something else. A warning.” She looked straight at me. “‘The key’s mate will be the first to bleed when the veil opens fully. Not from wounds. From the heart.’” She slipped out. The door closed. Nikolai’s arms tightened around me until it almost hurt. Neither of us spoke.

But near the bottom, wrapped in wax paper, lay something stranger. A book. No spine. No title. Pages brittle with age, browned at the edges. She pulled it out slowly, brushing off dust. One corner had been nibbled by time or mice but the contents were still intact. She opened the first page. “Once, far beyond the veil of true sight, there lived a widow in a house made entirely of glass. Every day she watched others… but no one ever saw her watching.” Isolde blinked. She knew this story.

I choose Better. Melissa S. Vice is an American author of erotica, fantasy and paranormal romance novels. Vice was born in Duluth, GA a proud Libra in the fall of October. She is the author of Oblivion, the fantasy romance novel and book one of her Tales of Incipion series, and the highly anticipated werewolf novel, Beneath the Blood Moon. An avid reader, she was introduced to her first taste of whimsical love, Wishes by Jude Deveraux, and has expanded her shelves since those tender years of youth and blissful ignorance. Her enjoyment for video games and books inspire unlimited worlds of adventure and everlasting love to rival those that had come before.