The Ruined Bride Novels & Stories

I mouthed to Beta Quinn. He nodded and left the room. As soon as the door closed, I could feel the woman’s breath shuddering out of her, a quiet release, like the weight of years of grief was pressing on her chest. Of course, it must have been easier to breathe without him there. After all, he had been part of the pack that took her husband from her. "When they brought him back home, it was clear he'd been shot. We wanted to go through the normal process, ask for a proper burial from the pack house," she continued, her voice cracking.

She didn’t say a word. She just watched. My heart shattered. My mother shoved me into the car and slammed the door shut. “Take her away,” she ordered coldly. “No! Mom, I don’t want to go!” I begged, hitting the window. But she had already turned her back, and walked away She didn’t even look back. --- I stared at the girl in the mirror. She looked like a perfect bride. Beautiful and elegant But her red, swollen eyes told the truth. She was broken.

The other maid burst into laughter, "Sorry, but I found that question funny; treat her nice? they've never; sometimes, she doesn't eat anything during Christmas; all she does is do dishes and wash clothes. They've never given her gifts or bought her clothes, beat her mercilessly at any opportunity they get for any mistake, while their bratty daughter enjoys all the luxury, she, on the other hand, enjoys all the suffering, I think what you've just witnessed is a perfect example of how badly she is treated, I mean, who slapped a bride two days to her wedding" " A bride?! Wedding?!", She exclaimed, she was so surprised cause there wasn't any sign that a wedding was on the way, " Yes, a wedding,

The other man shoves his cock back between my lips, muffling my cries. “She’ll learn quick. Keep her throat full while I break her in.” They move together, fucking me in sync. One slams into my throat, the other slams deep into my cunt. My body is nothing but raw sensation, drool slicks down my chin, pooling beneath me while my thighs drip slick onto the floor. “Look up,” one of them growls. My gaze flicks to the mirror above and I nearly come undone. “See that?” he hisses against my ear. “That’s what a real bride looks like. Ruined. Owned.”

This, this chaos, this laughter, this home, it’s everything I never knew I wanted. Once, I bought a bride. Now, I live every day grateful that love can’t be bought, only found, nurtured, and kept alive. And this life, is the only deal I’ll never regret. *** THE END!

Thirty-one hours before my wedding. A hotel car park. Grey concrete. Poor lighting but clear enough. Vivienne Cole standing beside her car with a suitcase at her feet. A figure stepping out of the shadows at the far end of the car park. Vivienne taking one step back, then another. The figure closing the distance. And then the frame ended. The next frame in the sequence showed only an empty car park and one abandoned suitcase and the kind of stillness that meant something had gone very wrong very quickly.

I couldn't speak immediately. “Skylar?” His voice softened. “Are you crying?” I still couldn't say anything. “Babe, if you don't tell me what's wrong, I'm going to come there right now.” I looked back at the ruined dress. My voice almost broke. “My... my wedding dress.” “What about your wedding dress?” he asked, already sensing the tension in my voice. “It's ruined.” There was silence on the other end. “What?” I wiped quickly at the tears gathering in my eyes. “Someone cut it. They ruined it completely, Sebastian.”

“The part where someone starts mattering enough to ruin me.” Her breath caught. The rain outside intensified, thunder rumbling somewhere far across the city. Sienna reached for his hand slowly, threading their fingers together. “You’re not ruined.” “You don’t know that yet.” The sadness hidden beneath the joke nearly destroyed her. For the first time since meeting him, Sienna realized Luca wasn’t fearless at all. He was terrified. Terrified of needing someone, of loving someone. Terrified they would eventually leave anyway. Sienna squeezed his hand gently.

Behind them rose the iron gates of a Victorian building with narrow windows, and on the pillar beside the woman's hand a small brass plate caught the light, so worn that I had never been able to read it. Isabella made a sound that I had never heard from her, a thin broken breath that was almost a cry. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her whole body swayed toward the table as though something had struck her from behind. I reached out to steady her, and she caught my wrist with fingers that were cold as iron, and she pointed with her other hand at the woman in the picture. "That is the iron gate of St. Brigid's, and that brass plate says the name of the orphanage," she whispered. "I have walked

But instead, she was being surrounded by hugs, acceptance, and warmth. The tears prickled at the corners of her eyes again, but she quickly blinked them back. She didn’t want to cry now and risk ruining the mood. Jamal must have noticed, because he stepped behind her, resting a hand gently at her shoulder. The small gesture send warmth spreading through her body, reminding her she wasn’t alone in this moment. But just as she was finally beginning to settle into the warmth of her new family, another voice sliced through the hall. “Well, well, well,” a mocking sneer echoed through the hall. “If it isn’t the runaway bride.”