Valentine Devotion Novels & Stories

She’s resting her chin on her hand, her eyes half-closed as she watches the rain start to streak against the high-rise windows. I search my chest for the anger. I reach for the resentment I’m supposed to feel toward her, the disgust that she shares his blood. But my fingers close around nothing. It’s slipping away. Looking at her now, at the lonely, sheltered girl desperate for a single ounce of freedom, I recognize how similar we are. Tomaso stole her childhood too. He just built a golden cage around it. I don't know what I feel for her anymore. The lines are so blurred I can't even see them. But deep down, I know one thing for absolute certain: it is no longer hatred.

She used to think her love was unbreakable. She used to think she would wait forever. But love had twisted—rotted—decayed into something far darker. What she felt now was no longer devotion. It was hatred. Pure, consuming hatred. Devia had taken Argan from her once. Then the baby came and tied Argan to that woman even more. Even after everything Revania had done—after reconstructing herself into the perfect ghost of Almira—Argan still chose Devia. She would not forgive that.

In my right hand, a very expensive bottle of champagne, his favourite as well, which, I chuckled to myself, left me a little broke. I walked down the hallway of Montague tech, and then pressed the elevator button that would take me to the floor of my boyfriend's office. Today was Valentine's Day and I was going to propose to my boyfriend of three years. I know he was the one that was traditionally meant to propose to me, but he was pretty indecisive, and we had soulmate energy. Why wait any longer when we could tie the knot now? And knowing him, he'd be appreciative that I actually put my foot first, he'd say yes. We were too good together. I could feel it in my bones.

The world feels frozen. Like the end of the world rests on my shoulders. In this minute, everything can change. No one seems to move once I start speaking. The clouds open up and lightning strikes. I’m running out of time. “Devotion isn’t about your soulmate. It comes from so much more. From the bond created to cement a life beyond what we all thought was possible. From friendship that has a power to destroy a person once their gone. Devotion to a mother that could transpire the grave. To the ability to stay friends with the nobody, everybody else hated. To a bond so strong you stayed by her side and helped her find her way home. Each and every one of us are devoted to Amy. She’s the reason

Realizing that I could not win over him, I told him, "Okay..Will you give me your phone now ?? " "Ofcourse shaky..I will give you but before that you have to say I love you rakshith.." I got furious after hearing his words..Is he thinking I was a toy ??..I'm not a puppet to act like he says..Yes..I loved him and still loving him but I don't allow him to use me as he wish..I will not say that word to him because he don't deserve it..He don't deserve my love..He don't deserve my selfless love..I even went to work as a cleaner for him but in return he used me like an tissue paper and threw it away..I got more angry while remembering all his insult words..I shouted to him,

I’ll make you want me, I will make you beg for me He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting hers. “I won’t lock you up. But don’t provoke me.” He stood, giving her space. Turned away. “You have three hundred and sixty-five days,” he said. “One year. I’ll do anything. Buy you the moon if that’s what it takes. And if you don’t fall in love with me by your next birthday, I’ll set you free.” Emily stood up. She didn’t think. Just ran. Straight for the door.

Just quietly supporting her from a distance, expecting nothing in return. Three months of silence. He was hurt, that's all. Enough time's passed. Of course he still cares. Of course he still loves me. The more she turned it over, the more convinced she became. A self-satisfied smirk crept across her face, something close to contempt flickering underneath it. You act like you hate me, Grant. And here you are, still circling back to me like you always do. Twenty years of devotion doesn't just disappear because of one bad night.

"Oh, Councilman Reed, you flatter me! Ashton is simply… devoted." *Devoted.* The lie hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Devotion felt like Novah’s tentative smile in the library stacks, the way her eyes widened when she grasped a difficult concept, the scent of vanilla and old paper that clung to her hair. Devotion was the memory of her body pressed against his in the cottage, the fragile hope in her voice when she whispered his name. Not this grotesque pantomime.

he said, looking at Lisa with love. Touched and happy, Lisa hugged Devan tightly. "Thank you, Devan. I don't know what to say. This is the most beautiful gift I've ever received." They both then shared intimate moments of togetherness, gazing at each other with love between them. Within that sparkling gift lay a deep meaning: love, appreciation, and eternal commitment. In each other's embrace, they celebrated an irreplaceable bond, ready to face the future together with happiness and love.

And though the nights would be long, the silence unbearable, the ghosts of their love lingered—painful, beautiful, eternal. The empire remained unchallenged, Nicholas’s rule absolute, but his soul bore the imprint of Rafe’s love, a mark no power, no bullet, no betrayal could erase. The world would see a man who had everything, but inside, he carried the greatest loss: the man who had been his everything. And in that loss, in that devotion that burned hotter than any fire, Nicholas Rhodes truly understood the meaning of love, sin, and survival. Because Rafe had been his sin. His devotion. His heart. And Nicholas would never, could never, forget.