Vampires sinking their fangs into a person, whether in the privacy of their chambers or the grandeur of public events, was no longer surprising. It had become a nightmarish norm widely accepted by society. In the tyranny of the strong, vampires were sitting at the top of the hierarchy, the elite vampires to be specific.
Being associated with them had its perks, but they were also the most dangerous, and in the face of one who wanted to sink his fangs into her skin, Sienna felt her pulse quickening, her insides recoiling.
She dreaded the thought of ending up dead on her wedding night. But Lemiel wouldn't do that, would he? After all, their marriage was a political alliance, a marriage joining two powerful lands.
She convinced herself she wouldn't die, but at the same time, the fear of taking one more step towards the vampire sounded as horrifying as stepping into the dark forest alone in the middle of the night. No. It was even more horrifying.
"A little frightened, aren't we?" he mused, taking pleasure in her expressions and the sound of her cute heart jumping every other second.
Sienna wanted to say that consummating marriage didn't include bloodsucking, but she wisely clamped her mouth shut. She needed a better response than that.
"It's okay. You would eventually get used to it," he reassured but it only weighed heavily on her shoulders.
She would eventually get used to it? Did he imply that it wouldn't only be this time he would be asking for her blood?
"Why do you seem so disturbed by the thought of me tasting your precious blood, my dear wife?" he tilted his head, and as sweet as his endearment might sound, the darkening of his golden eyes offered no comfort. "Don't worry, if it tastes bland, there won't be a next time. You see, I am a man of exquisite taste. I do not take anything less than my standards."
Sienna could only pray that the taste of her blood would prove to be a disappointment so he would never ask for it again. At the moment, she believed there was no other option but to give him what he wanted. She was his wife now. To the society, a wife was a possession of her husband and therefore required to abide by his rule.
Drawing a deep breath, Sienna gathered all her courage. She took one step towards Lemiel, her long night dress trailing on the marble floor. The vampire's eyes gleamed with mirth and overflowing wickedness, making her find it hard to take another step.
"I can see your willingness," Lemiel remarked with a hint of amusement and sarcasm.
When he stood and closed the gap between them with a single stride, Sienna felt a strong urge to step backwards, but she didn't have a chance to, as Lemiel's hand had caught her small waist, and the other pushed her chin up with his index finger.
The candles cast a flickering glow in the room, and the silence amplified the erratic rhythm of her heart, as well as her frantic breaths.
The reaction Lemiel got from Sienna made his lips twitch, each subtle change in her expressions elicited satisfaction from him.
Marriage was not in Lemiel's plans. At least not this soon. The vampire appeared to be a young man in his mid-twenties, but with his pureblood vampire ancestry, his actual age was some years older.
Marrying the witch princess of Azure clan was originally offered to his second brother by his father, not to him.
But after recounting an event in the past that remained stuck in his mind, and the fact that this marriage might actually come beneficial to him in some ways, when his brother showed defiance, he told his father that he could do it instead. His family was surprised, but the Duke refused to think about it deeply and just took it as his third son finally coming to his senses and deciding to help him achieve greater heights.
What the old duke didn't know was that his mischievous son had his own dark motivations.
"I appreciate your hospitality in offering me your blood, given your castle's inadequate preparations for a grand celebration such as our wedding," Lemiel spoke in a courteous tone. But Sienna knew that politeness masked the vampire's true character.
"But before that," he leaned closer, lowering her face close to hers as he whispered, "Why don't you tell me where the bastard has touched you?"