Vows And Vengeance Novels & Stories

Chapter 11 The Man Whose Name People Lower Their Voices For "The Whitfield numbers are wrong," Alexander said, not looking up from the tablet in his hand. It had been a heated discussion thirty seconds earlier, for the sake of a projection, two colleagues agreeing that it was preferable to argue with the man who built the model in the first place. All of it stopped as soon as Alexander spoke. Marcus Wren, head of acquisitions, flipped back through his printout so fast he almost tore a page. "The projections on page four_"

A whisper of a beginning. A story worth rewriting.

"Sometimes it's easier to confess to a stranger. I may not know the details of your pain, but I can see the fire within you. And I believe that everyone deserves a chance to right the wrongs done to them" His voice resonated within me, stirring a glimmer of hope within. I thought I would spend countless nights drowning in anguish, feeling utterly alone. But now, here was a stranger offering his assistance, someone who seemed to understand the depth of my desires and revenge. "I won't pretend to know what you've been through" Gideon continued, his voice filled with empathy. "But I've had my fair share of battles, internal and external. Sometimes, the best way to heal is to face those who have

The hunt for Greg could not wait, not if there was a chance to end what he had started. Varic reached for my hand with surprising strength, and I took it, holding it gently, unwilling to let go. “Vengeance,” he whispered, his eyes clouded with something heavier than pain, wisdom, regret, and fear all tangled together “always comes at a greater cost than you imagine.” I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around him. “I know,” I said, my voice almost breaking, “but some debts… must be paid.” He gave a faint, rueful laugh, then coughed again. “Then… promise me you’ll survive this,” he murmured. “Promise me you won’t… lose yourself.”

I wanted someone who could burn a room down at noon and tuck a child in by midnight. I wanted a villain like Elias, whose evil wasn’t cartoonish, it was coded. Programmed. Justified in his own mind. I wanted a hero like Echo, who broke and rebuilt and kept going even when he had no place to return to. I wanted legacy to mean more than inheritance. I wanted to write Bound by Vows & Vendetta because I wanted to show that blood builds nations, yes, but it's choice that builds a future. ~~~~~ A FINAL QUOTE — THE ONE I NEVER USED

He came like a storm walking on two legs. Not for love. Not for power. But for vengeance. Not the seething, silent kind that waits in the shadows. No—this was fire vengeance. Screaming vengeance. The kind of wrath that could birth legends or burn worlds to ash, and didn’t care which came first. Victor crossed the Hollowborn border with no crown and no sigil. Only bone. Bone armor lashed to his chest with the tendons of traitors. Bone claws that scraped against stone when he walked. Bone wolves at his heels—half-spirit, half-skin, stitched together from nightmares and the dead.

“Go on. What’s the vow?” I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything I had endured lift just a little more. “I vow to live fully, to love without hesitation, to forgive without reservation, and to never let the mistakes of the past dictate my future. I vow to embrace every moment, every joy, every challenge, every love that comes my way—and to do so with courage and honesty. I vow to build a life with you, grounded in respect, trust, and the understanding that we are stronger together than we could ever be apart.”

"Six months until the wedding. Six months for me to remake you into the perfect wife." "I would rather die." "No, you would not." His voice was absolute certainty. "Because if you die, I move on to everyone you love. Your parents. Your sister. Even Marcus Zhao and his mysterious ally Elena Vasquez. I will destroy them all, slowly and thoroughly, and you will not be there to stop me." He had me. Completely and utterly trapped. "What do you want from me?" The question came out broken. "Everything." He released me, stepped back. "Your obedience. Your body. Your mind. Your soul." His smile was terrifying in its honesty. "I want to consume you, Aria. I want you to exist only for me."

“The first keeper of the vow. The one who tried to chain the moon’s will to her own. She thought love could bind fate.” The image shifted—Thalen standing beside a man who looked like Kaelen but wasn’t. The same jaw, the same eyes, but his smile held sorrow. He pressed his palm against Thalen’s, and light erupted between them. “The vow was born from this,” Maelis said, gesturing toward the vision. “A promise made in love, sealed in defiance. They swore their souls would never part, even if the heavens broke.” The scene changed again. The man fell to his knees, the sky bleeding red. Thalen screamed, her power fracturing into shards of silver. From that light came the wolves—spirits bound by a

Time passes in a blur as the priest preaches, till the time comes for us to exchange vows. “Miss Carmela Ferrara, do you take Gabriele Conti as your lawfully wedded husband, to love him–” To hate you to death. “To stand by him–” I will stand by you so you never stand alone with your guilt. “To be faithful–” I will be faithful, not to you, but to my sister. “To walk with him as you both shall live–” I will walk with you all the way to the end and lead you to your death.