“What? No. You can’t...”
“That’s the thing about being a god among our kind,” Vlad said. “I can do anything I please. Now go before you cause more damage. As it is, I have a hell of a mess to clean up after your stupidity.”
“Father, you can’t do this!” Gabriel shouted, but Vlad simply nodded at Bartholomew.
“Keep my son out of the church. Under no circumstances are you to let him inside.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And surround the building. I want everyone in plain sight.”
“Why?” Bartholomew asked. “Are you expecting something to go down?”
“Yes,” Vlad said, striding toward the sanctuary. “And I want a show of force. The witches need to understand they’re helpless to stop this.”
“Should we be worried?” Bartholomew asked, but Vlad entered the church without answering.
“Yes,” he whispered to himself. “Yes, you should.”
Belladonna fiddled with her bouquet as she stood alone before the altar. She could feel it in her bones, in the magic coursing through her veins. Something was wrong. Gabriel was late, and while her mind wanted to plunge to the worst-case scenario, the hum of the air warned his absence wasn’t what she was imagining. Gabriel hadn’t left her at the altar. Something else was at play. Something dark.
She glanced at her mother, the alarm in Rowena’s eyes confirming what her magic already sensed. Evil had come to this church.
Rowena threw her husband a distressed glance, a wordless conversation passing between the couple, and then she stood, readying to address the situation when the doors flew open so fast that their hinges warped. The gathered witches yelped in alarm, momentarily stunned by the violent intrusion, but before they could regain their composure and call upon their magic,Hestepped into the room.
Belladonna froze, her skin ice, her heart thunder. She’dnever seen this vampire before, but he needed no introduction. She knew who strode down the aisle like the devil reincarnated. Vlad. Named for the great Impaler, he put the name to honorable use.
If Belladonna thought Gabriel was handsome, then Vlad was a god. He was the tallest man she’d ever encountered, his broad shoulders and powerful arms filling his tailored black suit with sinful perfection. A chiseled chest led to a waist meant for a woman’s legs. His hips begged to be choked by bare thighs, his own long legs boasting of stamina most only dreamed of, and his face? It was unlike any face she’d laid eyes upon. He was so beautiful that to gaze upon him was painful. His features were severe, wicked, strong. His dark hair and short beard intensified his allure, and she shudderedinvoluntarily at the sudden and horrifying longing to know what his lips would feel like against hers. She knew his kiss would burn her alive, would torture her soul until she was nothing but ash, and the way his brown eyes studied her told her he was picturing the vile things his mouth could do to her body, imagining the places he would kiss her, own her, devour her. She couldn’t breathe as she watched him approach. Couldn’t breathe as the infamous tattooed hand smoothed his suit over his abs. She’d heard tales of that inked skull, the blackened skin starting at his wrist and traveling to his knuckles in a design that mimicked human bones. When held against a person’s jaw, his tattoo would align perfectly with their features, giving all a glimpse of what awaited them when his violence was complete. Many called it the angel of death, for it was the last thing you saw in this world before Vlad took you out of it.
Rowena lunged from the pews, settling before her daughter as a human shield, and the sudden movement woke Belladonna from her trance. The vampire leader was in this church… at her wedding, and by the vengeance in his eyes, there would be hell to pay for this hidden marriage. Bella scanned the sanctuary, desperate to locate Gabriel, but he was nowhere to be found. An army of ruthless bloodsuckers met her gaze instead, their numbers guarding the exits. They outnumbered the present witches five to one, and unlike the younger vampires Gabriel had introduced her to, these men were born killers, violent and battle-hardened warriors.
Vlad shook his head at Rowena’s defiance, and Belladonna watched her mom falter. The coven leader scanned the room, desperate for an escape, for salvation, but it took her seconds to realize what her daughter already knew. There would be no fighting their way out of this. Rowena was a powerful witch. Belladonna and the coven leaders were equally strong, but their numbers were nothing compared to Vlad’s small army. The witches understood the truth. Resistance would end in bloodshed.
The intimidating vampire settled before Rowena, and for a moment, Belladonna thought her mother would fight back, ending their decades-long peace, but after a tense minute, the witch retreated. Belladonna’s heart thundered with alarm as her mom returned to her father’s side, and as the vampires tightened their ranks, Vlad stepped forward, glancing briefly at her chest as if he heard her erratic heartbeat. He was so tall that she had to crane her neck to look into his eyes, and she hated that he smelled of cedarwood and power, of desire and blood and vanilla. His scent wrapped around her, weaving through her magic, and her aura pulsed at his proximity. No one had altered her magic with their presence before, but the sight of this incredible monster had her body singing with vibrance and life. She felt a stranger in her own skin, and she threw her mother a pointed glare, praying the woman had an answer for why this devil affected her like no other creature of power had.
“I see we’re all gathered for a wedding,” Vlad said, andBelladonna fisted her flowers to the point of pain to stop from moaning at the sound. That voice. It was wicked and indulgent, and she instantly craved his words. She wanted him to worship her with that voice, to whisper desire and threats in her ear with that voice.
“I heard this was supposed to bring further peace between our races,” he continued, moving until they stood side by side at the altar, and wariness snapped Belladonna out of her unwelcomed fantasies. Her reaction to this towering man was filled with fear and longing, and the intensity of her opposing emotions set her teeth on edge. Something was happening, and the oppressiveness in the air warned it wouldn’t be pleasant. Only she couldn’t decipher what this god among men wanted with her wedding.
“My son won’t be getting married today.” Vlad captured her hand with his tattooed fist and pulled her before the terrified officiant. “But a union to seal the treaty is a wise proposition. So, we’ll have this wedding. Only Belladonna will be marrying me.”
What?” Belladonna gasped as the witches erupted with violent voices. She tried to yank her hand free of Vlad’s hold, but his grip was too strong. It didn’t hurt, but his strength was clear. There was no escape.
“Get your hands off my daughter!” Rowena lunged forward, her fingers already forming a defensive spell. It seemed she didn’t care that they were outnumbered. She was willing to shatter decades’ worth of peace for her child, and as she prepared to throw the first assault, the witches rallied to her cause.
“You wanted an alliance,” Vlad said calmly, as the room exploded around them. “I’m here to give you the wedding you so foolishly tried to hide from me.”
“I don’t care who you are,” Rowena growled. “If you don’t release my daughter, I will kill you.”
Five vampires lunged for her, and time slowed as Belladonna watched the scene unfold. Seconds stretched on endlessly, showing her the witches’ bloody future. Her mother was moments away from attacking theman known as the angel of death, and while Rowena could hold her own, the vampires had the upper hand. An attack would be fatal for the coven, and Belladonna realized with a sickening twist of her gut that she was the only person in the church with the power to stop the carnage. It would require a choice, though, a decision that would forever alter her future. She had to choose between her mother and her fiancé. Would she save the woman who’d given her life, who always fought and sacrificed for her, or would she choose a fiancé who wasn’t even there? She understood Vlad was a force to be reckoned with, but Gabriel was his son. If anyone could fight their way through this horde, it was him, yet he was absent.
“Stop!” she screamed, throwing an electric shock of magic at the vampires descending on her mother, and the men stumbled backward at the incredible force. “Just stop!” The church fell silent, and with a somber look at her parents, Belladonna faced Vlad.
“Bella, no!” Rowena shouted, but she ignored her mom as she gazed up at the impossibly tall man. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. He read the surrender in her gaze.
“Excellent.” Vlad glanced at the shaking officiant. “You may begin.”
The man’s eyes flicked to Rowena, but he understood their predicament as much as she did. The witches were outnumbered and outmaneuvered. Vlad had won this battle, and she was his spoils of war. As the coven’s heir, Belladonna was always aware she might be required to marry for an alliance and not for love, but as the priest began the ceremony with a shaking voice, the reality of her future settled deep into her bones. She was marrying a vampire, and not the one she loved. She was binding her fate to the man named for the Impaler himself. The enemy her mother had spent her daughter’s entire life trying to hide her from.
