“Do you take Belladonna to be your lawfully weddedwife, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death… true death do you part?” the officiant said, snapping Belladonna out of her trance, and she stared up at the vampire as he leaned forward to ensure his words were explicitly clear.
“I do.” His deep tone vibrated the air in her lungs, and she shuddered at the finality of the vow.
“And do you take Vlad as your lawfully wedded husband, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?” The officiant glanced at her with sympathy in his gaze, and Belladonna twisted toward the church entrance. She held her breath, hoping without hope that Gabriel would charge through those doors to rescue her, to defy his father for stealing his bride, but he didn’t come. She couldn’t hear him, nor did her magic sense him. He was gone. He wasn’t fighting for her.
“I do.” She looked back up at Vlad as an expression of triumph bled into his handsome features.
“Does anyone have the rings?” the officiant asked, but Belladonna shook her head. Gabriel had the wedding bands, and all she wore was the small engagement ring he’d placed on her finger.
“Right… well, by the power vested in me, I now?—”
“Wait.” Vlad cut the man off and seized Belladonna’s left hand. He ripped her engagement ring off and cast the simple diamond to the carpet. “That’s a cheap ring, and my wife will never wear something that mediocre.” He released her and then pulled a ring from his pinky finger. He then slid it onto her hand, and Belladonna froze when she saw what he’d given her. It was his signet ring, the one passed down from vampire leader to vampire leader. It was centuries old, only ever worn by the most powerful vampires to walk this earth… and now her.
Vlad twisted her fingers, surveying how the ring lookedon her with appreciation, and then he nodded at the officiant to continue.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest said, conveniently forgetting the last half of the line, but a single movement of Vlad’s dark eyes seemed to jog his memory. “You may kiss the bride.”
Vlad smirked a dangerously handsome grin as Belladonna’s face paled, and then he leaned forward. She braced for the impact, wondering how angry it would make him if she turned her head at the last second, but his next movements answered her silent question. Vlad shifted as he closed the distance, and his lips brushed against her cheek. The kiss was feather-light and filled with respect, and the innocence seemed wildly out of character for the devil before her. She half expected his softness to be a joke, a way to embarrass her further, but there was no malice in his actions. He simply kissed her cheek and then pulled back, capturing her hand with his angel of death.
“May you all toast our newfound peace at the reception dinner,” Vlad said, keeping a firm yet gentle grip on her. “Raise your glasses to the success of this night.” He pinned Rowena with his stare, but to her mother’s credit, she did not wither under his cruelty. “I hope everyone enjoys their evening, but I’ll be taking my bride home now.”
“Bella, no!” Her mother lunged for them as Vlad guided her down the aisle to exit the sanctuary, but her new vampire husband offered the woman no chance to catch up. His men flocked to his lead, guarding his back as he loaded her into his sleek black car. Everything within her screamed for her to run, for her to flee before he separated her from the coven, but before she could so much as conjure a spell to deliver her to safety, Vlad locked her in the vehicle beside him as his driver sped off into the night. He didn’t speak as they departed the church, but he held her hand tight, his grip awarning. She could not escape. She would never escape. No witch had ever been inside his mansion before. Vlad hid its location with absolute secrecy, and if he was taking her there, he didn’t intend for her to leave. Her mom wouldn’t come for her. She wouldn’t know where to search, and suddenly the chaste kiss at the altar seemed like a curse. He’d performed for the crowd, but now she was alone with the angel of death.
They parked in an underground garage between endless rows of expensive cars, and fear bubbled in Belladonna’s chest at the realization that Vlad hadn’t blindfolded her on the drive to his home. She knew where they were, a knowledge no witched survived, and panic flooded her veins. She was Rowena’s daughter and heir to the coven. She was the last person the vampire leader would allow to live with this information, and she inhaled a fortifying breath as Vlad slipped out of the car. She wouldn’t surrender without a fight, would not go gently into the darkness. Vlad was centuries older than her, but she was the coven’s future. This vampire would regret ever laying eyes on her.
Vlad stood expectantly outside of the vehicle, waiting for her to crawl out, but Belladonna crossed her arms over her stomach and leaned against the seat.
“Okay then.” Vlad shrugged and lunged for her, capturing her waist and hoisting her out of the car as if she weighed nothing. With powerful grace, he threw her over hisshoulder and strode across the garage, completely oblivious to her shouts. She pounded his back and thrashed against his hold, but the man’s grip didn’t so much as budge. He was far stronger than she realized, and he carried her through his expensive home with ease.
Realizing she wasn’t escaping his control, she collapsed against him and took to memorizing the halls. The mansion was elaborately massive, the opulence a far cry from the cozy cottage she grew up in with her parents, and by the time he shoved through an ornate door, she was hopelessly lost.
Vlad carried her across the grand bedroom, the décor too light for his dark demeanor, and he dropped her on the king-sized mattress. Belladonna wasted no time, and the second his hands left her waist, she kicked, her stilettos slamming into his gut. Vlad grunted, stumbling backward over the cream-colored carpet, and she lunged to her feet, fingers already moving. They wove the spells that were more familiar to her than breathing, and when her hands completed the first incantation, she threw the magic at her new husband… but nothing happened.
Vlad burst into laughter as she stared in horror at her useless hands, and he closed the distance between them. “The house is warded,” he said. “Cost me a fortune, but it was worth every penny. Magic cannot be performed within my property lines… and before you go looking, you’ll never find the wards, so you might as well not even try.”
“I… you…” Belladonna sputtered. “Well, I don’t need magic to slay a vampire. I’ve been training since I could walk to kill the likes of you, so if you so much as lay a finger on me, I will end you.”
Vlad burst into another fit of laughter, and she squinted at him in confusion. She’d expected a fight. Expected him to take what she wasn’t willing to give. What she hadn’t expected was to watch the angel of death laugh with genuineamusement. If she wasn’t so furious at him, she might enjoy the sound, appreciating the way his lips curved and his eyes brightened. But she was livid, so all she could fantasize about was punching his perfect mouth.
“I don’t doubt that you could,” Vlad said with a smile. “But there’s no need for threats, wife. I may be ruthless. I may be a tyrant, but I never take a woman without her consent. I have no intentions of touching you.”
Belladonna pinched her eyebrows at her new husband. This man had just forced her to marry him instead of his son, yet he hadn’t even kissed her at their wedding. What was his endgame? What did he want with her? If he truly wanted peace, why not let her marry Gabriel?
“These are your rooms,” he continued, gesturing to the large white bedroom, immense walk-in closet, and luxurious en-suite bathroom, and she suddenly understood why the decor was so bright. This wasn’t where Vlad slept. This was a guest room. “You’ll be safe here. No one will so much as touch a hair on your head, so you’re free to move about as you please. You can sleep here with the assurance that no vampire will harm you and that I won’t touch you until you ask me to.”
“I won’t ask,” Belladonna spat.
“Oh, you will, wife. Mark my words, you will. And when you do… not if… when you do, you’ll beg for it. Then and only then, when you’re dripping wet and desperate for me, will I touch you.”
“Well, I hope you’re prepared to live a celibate existence, husband.” She sneered. “Because I would rather die than beg for anything from you.”
Vlad stepped forward, his looming height forcing her to crane her neck as his chest settled centimeters from hers. “You’ll have to get better at lying, little witch. You forget I can scent your arousal.” He winked and strode from the roomwithout another word, simply ducking out of the way as she launched her shoe at the back of his head.
“You married her!” Gabriel ripped free of Bartholomew’s hold and charged for his father’s desk. “You swoop home from who knows where after years and not only forbid me from getting married but then you steal my fiancé? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I was simply stopping you from doing something stupid,” Vlad said, leaning back in his chair as if he was dealing with a toddler’s tantrum and not an enraged vampire.
“Something stupid?” Gabriel shouted. “I was getting married.”
