Our Deadly Vows Novels & Stories

In the fifth year after migrating to a new country, my wife, Nyra Sinclair, brings her first love, Jacob Griffin, and his daughter, Zoe Griffin, home with her. "Jacob and Zoe are new to this country, so they shall be staying with us for the time being." I get into a huge fight over this matter with Nyra. On my birthday, Nyra hands me a divorce agreement. She urges, "Hurry up and sign it. Jacob needs a green card. We'll have to go through a fake divorce first." With a frown on my face, I try to pry for more details from Nyra, only to get accused that I don't have any sympathy for Jacob at all. A short while later, I see Jacob's latest post on Instagram. "Nyra is getting a divorce for my and Zoe's sake! We finally have a place to call home!" I just leave a like there quietly. After leaving my signature on the divorce agreement, I lodge a request to my company so that I can fly back to my home country, Myrthia.

The day I went to surprise my blood-bound, Damien, with my pregnancy report, I found out his childhood sweetheart, Lia, was also pregnant. But, with a vampire hunter's child. To protect her and her child from being killed, he lied to the whole Clan, saying her child is his own pure-blood heir. Meanwhile, my child who was actually his true heir was labelled as bastard . He promised me he would clear my name and declare our child his once Lia delivers her child safely. He left me alone at home and went to different location with Lia to help her deliver her child safely. However, his family broke through my den and stabbed me in the stomach with the wooden stake the same day he left me for Lia. By the time he returned, it was already too late.

On the way home for the holidays, my wife, Sophie Hartman, and I were caught in a terrible accident. When I opened my eyes again, we had both gone back in time to before we ever fell in love. In our previous life, we'd been married for seven years. We were polite, respectful, and distant, almost like guests sharing the same house. And all those years, she never once agreed to have a child with me. It wasn't until later that I learned the truth. Sophie had never let go of the man she once loved. This time, I chose to set her free. We quietly deleted each other's contacts, kept our distance, and walked separate paths in life. … Seven years later, she became one of the most successful traders. At a class reunion, she announced her relationship with Vincent Parker, the man she had never forgotten. When she saw that I was still single, she couldn't resist teasing me. "Lucas, I know I've always been the one you love most, the one you're proudest of, but you don't have to spend your life waiting for me." I didn't respond. I simply took my son's hand. Sophie's face went pale. Her eyes reddened as she demanded, "You said you'd love me for life, that you'd only ever have children with me!"

My mate Alpha Rowan's childhood friend got pregnant by a rogue. To save her from burning at the stake by the Elders, Rowan claimed the pup was his. I asked him in disbelief what would happen to me and our pup. Rowan just hugged me tight, his eyes full of pain. "They'll kill Tessa, Gwen! Pack law only lets an Alpha pardon his own blood. I'm doing this to save her! You're my only mate. Why can't you understand?" Rowan had no clue. My Omega body simply couldn't handle his powerful Alpha blood. The pup inside me was draining me dry, eating me alive. My wolf was dying. Without my mate's scent and soothing day and night, I wouldn't survive the pregnancy. And I had no one else in this pack. Later, my bloodline-obsessed mother-in-law sneered at me. She said my wolf was weak because I was carrying a rogue's bastard. And Rowan? He was still playing house with his childhood friend. Through my tears, the truth finally hit me. He chose her over me. He chose duty over his mate. So I went to the Head Healer. I lay on the cold operating table and let them remove the pup that was killing me. Since my Alpha couldn't give me the protection I needed to survive, I had to save myself. Even if it meant losing our flesh and blood. But when he finally arrived and saw the blood-soaked surgical tray, he completely lost his mind.

I worked for a restaurant, and our boss loved making empty promises about giving us restaurant shares. The boss said we would start with zero shares, but we could earn 0.01% for every two hours of overtime, covering someone else’s work or saving the restaurant 1,000 bucks. I suggested she write this down in an official document and have someone track it properly. She just smiled and told everyone to work harder. She never actually put it in writing. The experienced staff did not believe her, but one prep cook took it seriously. At the end of the year, he went to the boss to claim his shares. The boss said, “Sorry, the head chef told me there’s no official document, so it doesn’t count. You can’t claim any shares.” The prep cook worked hard all year and got nothing for it, so he took his anger out on me. The day before I was going home for the New Year, he killed me with a knife. “If you hadn’t said it doesn’t count without an official document, this whole restaurant would’ve been mine!” I lay in a pool of blood. When I opened my eyes, I was back to the day the boss first made those empty promises.

Every year, my husband, Daniel Trahan, elopes with his childhood sweetheart, Callie Reed, on our wedding anniversary. On that day, they do everything that a loving couple does. On our fifth year anniversary, Daniel ordered me to put on a maid's outfit and serve them on hand and foot for 24 hours. "You've always wanted me to spend more time with you, right? I'm giving you a chance right now. Tomorrow, I'll come home and have one meal with you. "By the way, Callie's lower back hurts. You'll have to support her whenever she needs you." I complete all of my tasks obediently. When we meet up the next day, I hand him a divorce agreement. Daniel scoffs at the sight. Then, he drops his signature casually. "Oh? Are you playing hard to get again? Every time, you'll end up begging me to return to you while crying like an abandoned pet. If you're that eager to let everyone see how big a doormat you are, I shall grant your wish. "When you come crawling back to me this time, I'll stream the whole thing live so that everyone can see how spineless you are." Daniel thinks I'm throwing another tantrum this time. What he doesn't know is that the day of his elopement with Callie is also the day I get to go on my private date. Now, that lover of mine demands a proper title from me.

She loved him with all her heart; she gave up everything for him; she left her uncle's company, which she was supposed to inherit after her studies; she became a housewife; all these things in order to please him; but what did she get in return? A divorce paper was thrown right at her face the same day she gave birth, and as if that wasn't enough, he confiscated her child, sending her away with nothing. Five years later, he regrets his actions and wants her back, but it's already too late. The lady he divorced five years ago is not the same again; she's now one of the richest billionaires in the country, and now all she wants is to make the man who hurt her pay, make him lose everything he had worked so hard for, and at last reclaim her son. Will she succeed in her revenge mission, or will she end up falling for him again?

“Get married to my son if you ever want your father to be released!” Mr. Carter uttered the very words that would end up turning my life around. I knew he wasn't joking. The look on his face was all the evidence I needed. I knew I had to do it because it was the only choice I have left, but... I'll not go down without a fight! "I, Althea Ruiz, swear on my life that I will never get married to Adam Wilson!" I said out loud, my voice echoing through the room. "We'll see about that!" Adam said through the phone. *With blood on the line and an arranged marriage as ransom, Althea has to make the most difficult choice of her life; abandon her boyfriend of six years and get married to a man that no one has seen for the last ten years. What could go wrong?

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.

On the first night of our graduation trip, the class representative, Gordon Perkins, suggests that we draw lots in order to get our rooms assigned to us. "Let fate decide the pairs who get to stay in the same room as long as they have the same number, regardless of their gender! Imagine how exciting this is!" Throughout my four-year college life, Ivan Decker and I have been in a relationship for three of those years. No one knows about our relationship, though. I pull out a ball from the box and await my partner. When it's Ivan's turn, he draws out a ball with the number seven. Gordon raises his voice immediately. "The other lucky person who gets to stay in room seven is… Rebecca Benson!" Rebecca, the young woman whom Ivan has pursued in a high-profile manner in the past, goes bright red. Everyone cheers on them right away, claiming that Lady Fate really wants them to be together. But I'm the only one who stays silent. No one knows that I've heard Gordon secretly tell Ivan something before it's time to draw lots. "Look for the ball with the raised dot. I specially saved those ones for you and Rebecca." As I look at Ivan, who walks over to Rebecca and picks up her suitcase for her with a soft smile, I find myself smiling as well. It turns out that Ivan never plans on making our relationship official despite having waited for him for three years. This time, I decide to be the one who leaves first.