These Hollow Vows Smut Mga Nobela at Kwento

Chapter 16- Marriage, Typed at the Top of the Page Ivie stared at the word again Marriage. She hesitated with her hand over the paper, then slowly drew it back into her lap. Alexander said nothing. She looked up. "This is a joke right?” “Does it look like a joke to you?" "You're asking me to marry you?" "I'm offering a contract. Marriage is a legal structure that facilitates the possibility of the rest of it." Ivie exchanged a long look with the page, then with the remainder of the folder still tucked beneath his hand. "You said you could clear the debt. Keep the house."

It is the most sacred, and most painful, way for a werewolf to die. Three years later. "Elara, it's time to rest." The young Alpha's voice was as gentle as a spring breeze. I nodded, taking one last look at the full moon outside my window. I thought to myself: Soul-bound. 'Til death do us part. This time, I was the one who broke our vow. But life goes on. So be it. Let's not meet again... not in the next life.

His cock is thick, very veiny and leaking with precum, and I take it into my mouth like I’ve been starving, running my tongue over it as much as I could with it inside my mouth. But he doesn’t give me time to adjust, he grips my head with his hands and begins to thrust. He's slow for the first five seconds, then faster and harder, and I stay perfectly still on my knees taking it all like his good little bitch. Then I gag, and drool, and spit floods down my lips to my chin. “She’s perfect,” someone says. “She likes being humiliated,” another whispers. I do, and I love it. Gold Mask pulls out, and I gasp for breath, then he slaps his cock across my face.

The seduction bloomed unintentional: humidity making my skin glow, his drunk haze blurring lines, our the steam. He leaned in, nose grazing my hair, inhaling deep. "You smell... fuck, so good." Words accidental, but they ignited. I turned my head, lips brushing his jaw soft, unintended. His hand settled on my waist, fingers splaying over the bare skin where tank met shorts, burning through me. "Jax... we can't. Mia..." But my body arched subtle, traitorous, the ache between my thighs growing insistent. He groaned low, forehead pressing to mine, shifting his hips and there it was, the hard length in his shorts pressing against my hip, thick and unyielding.

The air was damp, moss brushing the stones like velvet. My routine was always the same. Haul water from the well until blisters bubbled across my palm. Scrub dried blood from the holy altar until the sting of it pressed into my knees. Wash linens for the warriors until the sting of vinegar felt like a second skin. The Hollow was built upon ritual and sacrifice, upon old gods and older promises, and it was the servants’ lot to witness and forget. To bear witness and bear silence.

Inside were flowers and a ring. "Be my girlfriend," he said. "If you don’t want to marry me, that's fine. We’ll just stay in love forever." The screen erupted in hearts and gifts. "Shipper fans are losing it! I knew they were real!" "Even if it’s scripted, I’ll take it!" I blinked, confused. Scripted? Then, I touched the ring. It was soft and tasted sweet. It was cake. When I ate it along with the flowers, viewership skyrocketed again.

Even the choice of our wedding venue had nothing to do with me anymore. That night I slept at a friend’s house. Shane never once tried to contact me. The next day, after finishing my work handover, I stepped into the villa and was greeted by the sound of Tania’s laughter. "During the vows, there must be rose petals drifting down from both sides. That’s what makes it romantic." Shane sat beside her, his eyes locked onto her with a tenderness I had never once received. "Anything you want," he said warmly. She had his devotion, something I had never been granted.

In one move, he yanked me to him, his grip strong, possessive. "You're a fucking slut. You know that, right?" he whispered, voice rough against my ear as his palm landed hard on my ass. I gasped—not from pain, but from the way my body lit up in response. My core throbbed with need, my legs weak. "More," I whispered, arching my back, pushing my ass into him like a silent challenge. He didn't hesitate. Liam spun me around, shoved the nightshirt up to my waist, and brought his hand down hard. The sharp smack echoed inside the tent, and I moaned, the sting delicious, the heat spreading fast. Again. And again.

he said, his tone dripping with disdain. The words cut deep, and Veda felt her heart shattering into a million pieces. "I thought our vows meant something," she whispered. Adyant snorted. "Vows? Those were just empty promises, Veda. We both knew it." Veda's eyes widened in shock as the reality check of her shattered vows laid bare in front of her fragile heart. "How can you say that?" she demanded, her voice laced with pain. Adyant's gaze locked onto hers.

> “Let this be our final silence. If this box is opened, then the vow is broken. Blood has outlived its promise. The Vitale and Moretti lines were bound by betrayal, not loyalty. If one family survives the other, the seal will break. When the seal breaks, memory will return. And when memory returns, no empire shall stand. The only way forward is to choose the end. Not vengeance. Not justice. An end. One life, freely given, to close the door again. The bullet was forged from the betrayal bone. Cast from the marrow of a son who betrayed his blood. You must choose who will carry it. And who will be erased.” He finished reading. No one moved. Then, softly, Bianca said, “It was always going to be