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.

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.

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.

When he managed to accomplish these tasks she hadn’t the slightest idea; for he was scarcely seen about, save for the early hours and breakfast. One by one her books had disappeared: first the countless volumes of the medical science, then her adored novels, followed by the anatomical sketches she had painstakingly completed over many hours. On the first instance that she had found a torn corner of one of her drawings gracing a dusty corner, she had nearly broke, clutching the scrap to herself in a wretched reminder of the simple life she had once led. The blind panic that the walls of her prison instilled in her surged to new life, and she would have given in, squawking and screaming, had s

His eyes flicked to Cole and it seemed intentional as he said, “And so do I.” Hailey peeked at me and waved her fingers, her anxious eyes darting toward Cole. ‘Bye, Violet.’ Check out my new book CAGED- A Dark Billionaire Captive Romance and BRIDE TO BE. @Gupta

Roman mumbled, "But that's not all. In front of the painting, he tugged on a yellow tassel, and a hidden tunnel appeared on the wall. Without hesitation, he entered, followed by Emily. I followed suit, taking a gulp. It felt like we were being swallowed up by the darkness, and the further we walked, the louder my heart pounded. What did this painting mean? Where would this tunnel lead us? The tunnel seemed to be closing in on me the further we walked in. All of a sudden, I felt a gentle breeze pass through the tunnel, and my eyes were met with intense light in the distance. "Almost there," Emily said. getting closer to the light. We found ourselves in a room covered in dust and cobwebs, with