MichaelI don’t really want to be here, but my mother and my fiancee practically forced me out of the castle and locked the door behind me. The dingy, crowded tavern some thirty miles away from the castle seems to sway against the crowd of shifters and vampires alike, everyone drinking copious amou
EmeldaQueen Emory smiles at the spread of vampire-friendly food laid out on a tea-table. Blood pastries and cakes galore sit on pretty little trays adorned with flowers, flutes of blood made to sparkle resting beside them. “Are you not hungry?” she asks as I inspect the spread over the sound of Al
FayeIt’s snowing on my wedding day. Snowing hard, actually, as I watch cars pulling around the castle where valets are waiting to greet the guests. The wedding will take place in an hour. An hour. I can’t believe it. My stomach pitches as two maids pull curlers from my hair and dab blush on my che
MichaelI can count on one hand how many times I’ve been in this cathedral over the course of my short life. The dark stone walls echo even the smallest whisper, and the ancient stained glass sends shadows instead of snowy sunlight into the cavernous space. I wouldn’t consider vampires a very relig
MichaelI’m not sure what I expected getting married to feel like. In my mind, it had always been a business arrangement with little fanfare and no emotions attached. Now, that’s not the case. I’m a husband. I have a wife who I love, who wasn’t chosen for me based on whatever political alliance was
*Emory* My stomach is tight, like a fist, as I follow my parents up the walkway to the monstrosity of a stone fortress known as Castle Graystone. Lighting illuminates the sky overhead, which seems to fit perfectly with the scene, though it’s not raining—not yet anyway. Something tells me there’s ab
Emory “Take my daughter… to be a feeder.” My father’s words echo around the throne room as I stand behind him with my throat so constricted, I can hardly breathe, let alone speak. I can’t believe the words that have come from his mouth, and by the look on Vampire King Kane’s face, neither can he.
Emory Lola? Lola! The word my father has just spoken fills my head with shock as I try to process what is happening. For the second time in only a few minutes, I cannot believe what my father is saying. My eyes immediately go to the Vampire King who is clearly surprised by what my father just sa
MichaelI’m not sure what I expected getting married to feel like. In my mind, it had always been a business arrangement with little fanfare and no emotions attached. Now, that’s not the case. I’m a husband. I have a wife who I love, who wasn’t chosen for me based on whatever political alliance was
MichaelI can count on one hand how many times I’ve been in this cathedral over the course of my short life. The dark stone walls echo even the smallest whisper, and the ancient stained glass sends shadows instead of snowy sunlight into the cavernous space. I wouldn’t consider vampires a very relig
FayeIt’s snowing on my wedding day. Snowing hard, actually, as I watch cars pulling around the castle where valets are waiting to greet the guests. The wedding will take place in an hour. An hour. I can’t believe it. My stomach pitches as two maids pull curlers from my hair and dab blush on my che
EmeldaQueen Emory smiles at the spread of vampire-friendly food laid out on a tea-table. Blood pastries and cakes galore sit on pretty little trays adorned with flowers, flutes of blood made to sparkle resting beside them. “Are you not hungry?” she asks as I inspect the spread over the sound of Al
MichaelI don’t really want to be here, but my mother and my fiancee practically forced me out of the castle and locked the door behind me. The dingy, crowded tavern some thirty miles away from the castle seems to sway against the crowd of shifters and vampires alike, everyone drinking copious amou
FayeIt’s snowing again. White fluff falls from the dark sky, highlighted by the exterior sconces placed along the walls of the castle. I smile as it blankets the ground, sticking to every surface it touches. I never really thought about the logistics of my future wedding. A marriage? Sure. My even
MichaelI stare at my soon-to-be bride, who looks up at me like a little golden owl, her blue eyes wide and shocked as she takes in my level of disheveledness. But I’m looking at her bloody finger, the bowl of liquid on the table, and the two guilty-looking ex-witches standing on either side of Fay
“He told me he thought you might have been pregnant the night we were going to give you that final potion,” she whispers, meeting my eyes. “I told him it couldn’t be. It was far too early to tell and the herbs I’d been giving you to try to heal you would have been harmful for the baby.”We stare at
FayeMorning comes like sand falling through an hourglass. All night, time moved so slowly. Each second passed in agony as I waited and paced, hoping for any shred of news from Michael. I’ve spent the most time in the living room sitting in awkward discomfort between Cole and Emelda, who refuse to