Crimson Vows



She walked down the aisle to the sound of breaking glass instead of wedding bells.
A fiery redhead with freckles like scattered stars and a heart full of rebellion, she never belonged in a traditional white dress. So she made her own rules — black leather and lace, fishnets and thorns, a veil soaked in defiance.
In the candlelit ruins of an old cathedral, she married the chaos she loved most. No prince. No peace. Just blood-red roses, spiked vows, and a smile that warned the world she’d burn it all down before she’d ever be tamed.
Till death — or total anarchy — do us part. 🔥