Vampire Bride

Nyra’s point of view

It’s my wedding day, and my groom is a vampire.

This statement which, considering the way he looked at me during the rehearsal, ranks second only to “it’s my wedding day, and I think my father just sold me.”

The venue is every gothic bridal fantasy, if your fantasy includes haunting organ music and guests who might literally be a hundred years old. The wall is carved from obsidian stone with flickering lanterns casting long shadows. Vampire nobility sits in silence on the pews, watching my every step as my father and I walk down the aisle.

I look regal in my white flowy dress and too-long veil. My bouquet trembles in my hands. Not from nerves—well, partially nerves— but mostly because I’m resisting the urge to bolt.

Then I see him.

Ardonis Stepanov. The vampire Lord. My groom.

Tall, aristocratic, impossibly composed dressed in a tailored-to-perfection all black suit. Like he was attending a funeral, not his own wedding. The only color on him, is his long honey blonde hair and his ocean blue eyes. There’s a knot between his brows, not interest, not excitement. Irritation. He looks like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Which is flattering. I think,

He doesn’t offer a smile as I reach him. Just a cold glance, then his gaze shifts away as though he wants to get this over with. My father places my hands in his, and nods at Ardonis with a smug look on his wrinkled face. He probably feels like Einstein for initiating my marriage to the big pharma tycoon.

The officiant starts.

“Do you Nyra Hearthe, take Ardonis Stepanov……”

“I do,” I answer despite everything inside me saying I shouldn’t.

“Do you, Lord Stepanov, take Nyra Hearthe. ….. ”

His jaw tightened and a long beat passed.

“I do.”

Business transaction completed.

“Bound by the accord of coexistence of the clan, I now pronounce you Lord and wife.” The officiant croons finally.

The rings are exchanged. The kiss is quick and clinical. His lips barely touch mine before he pulls away. My father gives a satisfied nod from the second row.

And just like that I am Mrs. Ardonis Stepanov.

Later, the ball room at the Grand Asteria shimmers with glass and gold, flooded with high-ranking vampires and influential politicians. Soft music plays, and waiters move silently between the tables.

Ardonis disappeared almost immediately. No explanation. So, I’m left forcing a smile through carefully worded congratulations from guests, trying to ignore the whispers. “Poor mortal girl…. she’ll be lucky if she survives the wedding night.”

I barely manage a sip of champagne before my father grabs my arm and pulls me toward a quiet corner.

“You’re not smiling enough.” He spits through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry. I hiss. “I’ll try to look more thrilled about my corporate sacrifice.”

He grips my arm tighter. “Do not test me, girl. You owe me this. Act like a good wife and make him happy.”

“What about me dad?” I whisper “What about my own happiness?”

“You don’t matter here. So you Listen to me.”

 He paused and said in a dark voice that frightened me. “I would let the entire clan fuck you if it means saving my own skin. You understand?”

I nod stiffly. “Yes, father”.

He harshly releases my arm and flitters away. Probably to go find some alcohol and drink himself to stupor as usual.

My gaze drifts across the hall and I freeze.

Ardonis stands near the balcony, locked in hushed conversation with a powerful figure – Lord Marcus Stepanov, his uncle. Both men wear matching tension. Ardonis’ hands are clenched behind his back. Marcus gestures sternly, his expression just as stern.

Marcus suddenly turns, spotting me. His expression hardens even more, then he mutters something to Ardonis before leaving.

Before I can process what is happening, Ardonis suddenly appears in front of me.

He grabs me by the elbow and says harshly. “We’re dancing.”

No warmth. No request. Just command.

He leads me to the center of the dance floor. The room falls quiet. We begin to waltz, his hand resting lightly on my waist. Goosebumps spread all over me.

“You disappeared.” I ask him tentatively. What am I doing? Trying to make him hate me more than he already does?

“Necessary.” was his terse reply.

“That conversation seemed heated. Everything okay?”

“None of your business.”

“You seem… unhappy.”

“I am.” He replies flatly, meeting my eyes. “But it changes nothing.”

I attempt a smile. “Well, this is going off to a good start.”

He doesn’t respond.

We dance in silence for a moment. Then I ask quietly. “Why did you marry me?”

His steps don’t falter, but his gaze does.

A pause. Then in a deep low voice; “Kitten, I think with time you will come to realize that some of us are born with certain. Obligations.”

I ignore all he just said and focus on the only thing that registered in my brain. “What did you just call me?”

He doesn’t answer and before I could ask more, he releases me, stepping back.

“We’re leaving.” He commands.

“But the reception—“

“Is unnecessary.” His voice is devoid of softness. “Come. the car is waiting.”

I pout my lips. “Do I at least get to have some cake first?”

“No.”

Minutes later, I sit across from him in the Limo. He doesn’t speak or look at me. Outside, protesters slam signs against the windows – no more Vampire Expansion, Human Rights First. Someone throws red paint, at the car startling me. and it streaks against the window like blood.

My nerves shoot up. Perhaps our union was a mistake, maybe its best humans and vampires stay away from each other after all.

I turn to him. “How often does that happen?”

He doesn’t glance up or even acknowledge the protesters. “Ignore them. They’re losers with nothing going on in their lives. And besides, loud minds accomplish little.”

I breathe in and out slowly. Trying to force a calm that is not there.

And this is how my marriage begins. In silence. In protest.

Across from me, my husband closes his eyes like this entire day is something he intends to forget.

But now we have to deal with what comes after the wedding.

The wedding night.