The devil's bride

The devil's bride

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WpMetadataReadOngoing3h 38m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Sep 14, 2022
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Fiction
Romance
They call him the Devil . . . He is the most notorious king: fierce, cold, deadly . . . and maybe even worse. Yet Pratha has just agreed to wed him. Anything, she thinks, is better than her cruel stepmother. Though Pratha should be wary of the rumors, she can't help but be drawn to this warrior . . . for the Devil inspires a love within her that is unlike anything she has ever known. They may call him whatever they wish, but Nawab, cares only for the future of his kingdom. He must find a wife and fulfill the duty of a King. He has no need for beauty or grace, but one look at his lovely bride gave birth to an untamed love. Perhaps there's more to marriage than he thought . . .
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Tejendra~~~~~ Loving Drishti was my only truth. Marriage was never supposed to change that. I was forced into this. Forced to take vows with a woman who meant nothing to me. Nayantara was a mistake written in my blood, a punishment I didn't deserve. A wife in name, nothing more. She should have been easy to ignore. Obedient, quiet, everything a perfect wife should be. But she wouldn't stay in the shadows where she belonged. She pushed, she defied, she dared to make me see her. And I hate her for it. Because every time she stands her ground, I falter. Every time she looks at me with those damn unshaken eyes, I forget. Forget that my heart isn't hers to claim. Forget that I was never supposed to want her. But I do. My punishment. My addiction. My downfall. Nayantara~~~~~ I was never meant to love my husband. Not when his heart was never mine to hold. Not when every word he speaks, every glance he gives, is filled with a love that belongs to another woman. I tried. I played the part, whispered the prayers, carried the weight of a marriage that was doomed from the start. But what's the point? A man like Tejendra Pratap will never love me, and I no longer care if he does. I won't beg. I won't wait. I won't waste another second wondering if I'll ever be enough for him. Let him stare. Let him burn. Let him hate the way I no longer flinch under his gaze. My cage. My lesson. My husband.

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