Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
VALARIC
T he moon shines brightly over the temple of the old gods, bathing the white marble columns in silver light, illuminating the elaborate runes carved into the ancient stone. The air is thick with incense and the floor is worn smooth by the passage of countless worshippers.
When I was mortal, I was a fervent believer in the old gods. But after my entire family and village were slain by the same creatures that I have become, anger turned me from their ways. It has been over fifty years since I’ve set foot inside a place of worship.
Juliet stands before me, pale moonlight casting her in an ethereal glow. Her luminous green eyes are wide as they meet mine, and her long, blonde hair cascades down her back like a river of gold.
My gaze travels over the elegant white silk gown that accentuates the curves of her lovely form. The bodice is covered with clear tiny crystals in swirling patterns that shine like stars beneath the flickering candlelight. A thin silver chain with a single gray pearl hangs around her neck.
Jealousy rises within me at the knowledge that it is the same dress that would have been worn in her wedding to Jonathan, but I push it back down.
She is my bride now. Not his.
Her hands tremble within mine as she repeats the ancient vows, her voice soft but clear. I admire her strength as she stands before me, her gaze unflinching as she speaks the sacred words of intent.
I’ve had four wives before Juliet. Each marriage was the result of a bargain, a contract sealed without ceremony or fanfare. I never claimed them as my mate.
But this is different. This is real. A connection, a bond forged not just by necessity to fulfill the terms of an agreement, but by something deeper, something I cannot quite name.
The priestess guides us through the ancient rites, her words resonating throughout the temple. She instructs us to hold out our hands, hesitating a moment as she lifts the ceremonial knife from the altar.
Her gaze sweeps to mine, full of concern. She knows enough of my kind to be wary of what comes next, but I am prepared and will not lose myself to bloodlust.
I dip my chin in a subtle nod, indicating that she may continue.
Carefully, she slices a line across my left palm and black blood seeps to the surface. When she turns to Juliet and does the same with her right hand, my nostrils flare as the enticingly sweet scent fills the air. I’m hit by a wave of lust and longing so intense I struggle to maintain my composure.
My gaze drifts to the elegant column of her throat. I long more than anything to pull Juliet into my arms and sink my fangs deep into the pulsing artery along her neck, marking her as my mate. To claim her according to the ways of my people.
Like Wolf-Shifters, Vampires are both monster and man. The two halves of our nature in a constant battle for dominance. The fated bond is so strong it threatens to overwhelm my control as the dark and primal creature within me awakens. It writhes beneath the surface, demanding that I seal Juliet to me and make her mine in all ways.
Clenching my jaw, I force it back down. For now, she is bound to me by blood magic. The claiming will come later.
We press our palms together as the priestess winds the red ribbon of binding between our fingers. I’m surprised at how dainty Juliet’s hand is against mine with her delicate bones and petal-soft skin. My human bride is fragile compared to my people, and it fills me with worry at how easily she could be broken.
Fierce protectiveness rushes through my veins. She is mine, and I will kill anyone who dares try to harm her.
The priestess finishes tying the ribbon around our wrists. According to tradition, it is supposed to remain in place during our first night together. And when it is removed, the knot must remain intact to ensure a successful marriage.
Juliet’s gaze meets mine and a pink blush stains her cheeks. My bride is breathtakingly beautiful, and a surge of emotions wells within me as she speaks the vows of binding.
When it is my turn, I stare deep into her lovely green eyes and solemnly repeat the ancient words. “Blood of my blood, bone of my bone, I give you my heart as we two become one.”
As soon as the ceremony is over, Juliet’s mother rushes forward to hug her in a crushing embrace. Still joined by the ribbon wound around our hands, I stand at arm’s length, affording them as much privacy as I can.
I find it odd that her mother and brother are so upset, but her father stands off to one side with a scowl on his face, not even a hint of sadness in his features.
The priestess walks up beside me, the deep lines of her face etched with concern. “The gods have shown me a vision of your future,” she says in a low voice, meant only for my ears. “Would you care to know what I see, Vampyr?”
I know enough of the old gods to understand that visions, like prophecies, can be both a gift and curse, and all too often can be easily misinterpreted. It would probably be wiser to leave the future unknown, but I am desperate to protect Juliet from my curse. “I only wish to know one thing. Tell me: can I save her?”
“That depends,” she replies. “Would you sacrifice your life for hers?”
I have heard others speak of the fated bond, but I never knew how strong and how fast it could take hold. As I gaze at my new bride, fear grips me in an iron vise. She is the other half of my soul. But she is human. And humans are nowhere near as strong or resilient as my kind. I have only just found her and already, I am terrified that I could lose her. “Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “I would.”
“You will know the choice you must make when the time comes. Trust the gods to direct your path.”
Frustration burns in my chest at her cryptic answer. “The gods abandoned me long ago,” I reply bitterly. “Why should I trust them now?”
I expect anger in response to my words, but instead I see only pity shining in the priestess’s eyes. “Nyxara—the Goddess of Night—has not forsaken you.” Her gaze holds mine evenly. “Find your faith again, Vampyr. Fate is the hunter and it comes for you soon.”
Ice fills my veins. Swallowing hard, I push down my concern and turn my attention back to my wife. I will do whatever it takes to spare her from my curse.
Juliet bids a tearful farewell to her family. I’m surprised when her mother bravely wraps her arms around me as I imagine she would a true son-in-law and whispers in my ear. “Please, swear you will be good to my daughter.”
When I pull away, I meet her eyes evenly. For as long as I draw breath, I will cherish Juliet and protect her with my life. “You have my most solemn vow.”
Her mother gives me a watery smile. “Thank you.”
I’m about to lead her away when Juliet’s father approaches. His face has been set in an emotionless mask this entire time, and I wonder if he’s about to finally break down. Instead, he points to her necklace. “Give that back to your mother.”
Shock flits across Juliet’s face as she clasps her hand tightly around the pearl. “But I—”
“It’s hers,” her mother says quickly. “Her father gave it to her.”
I’d assumed Buryk was her father, but it seems I was wrong.
“That necklace belongs to our estate,” he insists. “Now, hand it over.” He doesn’t even wait for her to respond before he starts to reach for it. Juliet steps back and his fingers catch on the pearl, breaking the thin chain from around her neck.
Lightning fast, I grip his wrist, squeezing until I feel the bones beginning to give.
He yelps, futilely trying to break free as panic and fear contort his face.
A deep growl vibrates in my chest. “Put your hands on her again, and it will be the last time you have hands,” I grit through my fangs. “Do you understand?”
Tears stream down his face as he nods repeatedly.
Reluctantly, I release him and he stumbles back, cradling his wrist to his chest.
“Here.” I reach down and pick up the necklace, handing it back to my wife. “We can have it repaired later.”
I’m vaguely aware of Juliet’s mother and brother gaping at me. But when I look at Juliet, I’m surprised that instead of fear, I find gratitude shining in her eyes. “Thank you,” she murmurs, slipping the broken necklace into a hidden pocket of her dress.
I dip my chin in a subtle acknowledgment.
She hugs her mother and brother again, exchanging tearful goodbyes.
Anger courses through me as I glare at her stepfather, nursing his wrist in the corner of the temple. I should have killed him. I still might.
I’m tempted to march over, and do just that, but I don’t know if my wife would be grateful or horrified.
Sighing heavily, I decide against it. She hugs her mother one last time before I lead her away from them, and back to my carriage.
My driver, Eben, has a wide smile on his face as we approach. I’m glad to see Juliet’s trunk is already secured on the back. He hops down from the seat and bows low before us. When he straightens again, he runs a hand through his short brown hair, smoothing it back into place. His silver eyes are full of mirth as he grins, flashing two rows of sharp white fangs.
Juliet pales and presses into my side. Eben would never hurt her, but she does not know this yet. The dark creature within me is pleased that my mate already looks to me for protection.
“This is Eben Wolfstark. He is a Wolf-Shifter, and an honorable male,” I reassure her. “He would never harm you.”
Eben straightens, his grin widening at the compliment. “Congratulations on your wedding.”
His gaze travels over my bride, and I bite back a possessive growl. Although I know he would never try to tempt her away from me, primal instincts unfurl deep within.
My fangs extend and bittersweet venom fills my mouth as I fight the intense need to bite and mark her so that any male who approaches will know she is my mate.
“It is wonderful to meet you, Lady Greyvale.” He bows again.
“It is nice to meet you as well, Eben.” She smiles warmly. “You may call me Juliet.”
I clench my jaw in jealous frustration. She has not yet offered for me to call her by her first name. But then again, I have not extended this offer for my name either. This is something I must rectify as soon as possible.
Eben glances at the sky. “We should hurry if we’re to make it back to the castle in time. Unless you wish to secure a room at an inn?”
The last time I stayed at an inn, I did not sleep well. The hatred of my kind runs deep among many, and I was concerned that someone might try to attack me during my day sleep. I’d rather not repeat the experience, especially on my wedding night.
Besides, the new moon will be here in a few nights, and the terrible change will be upon me soon. I’d rather not risk being caught away from the castle when it happens. “No. Let us make for home.”
Eben nods and jumps back up into the seat while I help Juliet into the carriage.
As soon as we’re seated, the carriage lurches forward. It is far from smooth as the wheels roll over several bumps and ruts. Only our joined hands keep her from tumbling to the floor as we race down the road.
Her eyelids begin to droop and she yawns. I have seen this before. It is the restorative sleep that follows shortly after receiving a Vampire’s blood.
Another bump of the carriage sends her leaning against me. Her movements are sluggish as she pushes herself upright, exhaustion marring her features. “Why am I so tired?”
“It is an effect of the healing properties of my blood,” I explain. “You will require rest before you are fully recovered.”
Even as I tell her this, it is easy to see she is struggling to remain conscious. “It’s hard to keep my eyes open,” she murmurs.
If not for the ceremony, we would have been home before this happened. “Rest,” I speak softly. “We will arrive at the castle shortly.”
“The ribbon,” she murmurs. “Please take extra care with the knot when you remove it.”
I’ve heard the superstitious belief that the gods frown upon a marriage if the knot of the ribbon comes untied when removed, but I am surprised that my new bride cares so strongly about this, especially since she has just wed a monster.
Perhaps it is a good sign that she wishes for our union to be blessed.
I wish I knew for certain how she feels. Vampire couples that share a fated bond are able to sense each other’s emotions. Depending on the strength of their connection, some can even read each other’s thoughts.
Unfortunately, I cannot detect either from her, and I doubt she can sense anything from me as well. So, I will simply have to do my best to prove my commitment to her through my actions.
Her eyelids blink open and closed as I carefully unwind our hands, taking great care to ensure the knot remains intact. When I’m finished, she gives me a faint smile and then relaxes against me.
The carriage hits another bump, jostling her in her seat. I wrap my arm around her, steadying her so she does not hit her head against the window.
“May I hold you?” She was afraid of me when she first awakened, and her fear scent has all but faded since then, but I do not want to presume anything. I wait patiently for her answer.
“Yes,” she whispers.
Gently, I lift her from her seat and place her on my lap. My bride is very light, and I’m surprised by how much she already trusts me. Despite the enclosed carriage, it is winter outside and she shivers in my arms. “Are you cold?”
She nods.
Cautiously, I extend my wings from my back and fold them around her smaller form. “Is that better?”
Juliet sighs and presses her face against my neck as she whispers. “Thank you, Lord Greyvale.”
“To you, I am Valaric.”
“Valaric,” she says. “Call me Juliet.”
“Juliet,” I repeat solemnly.
She rests a delicate hand on my chest and her small brow furrows. “You have a heartbeat,” she murmurs drowsily.
It seems she believes the rumors many have about my kind. They refer to us as the living dead, but nothing could be further from the truth. We are not dead, we simply live so long the other races believe we are immortal. A myth my people encourage that has been repeated so many times that no one questions it anymore. “Yes.”
I glance down at her other hand on my chest, noticing the broken chain of her necklace peeking out from the side of her closed fist. It’s obviously very important to her. I will make sure to repair it as soon as possible.
Unable to fight her exhaustion, she closes her eyes and rests her head on my collarbone. Her warm breath whispers across my neck, and I listen as the sounds of her breathing become soft and even as she slips away into a deep sleep.
I am a Vampire—considered by many to be nothing more than a bloodthirsty monster. And yet, she rests so trustingly in my arms that it nearly breaks me.
Her grip loosens on her necklace, and I carefully lift it from her palm to pocket it in my tunic so it won’t become lost.
Tenderly, I brush a silken lock of hair behind her ear. She does not realize it yet, but she has already captivated me entirely.
As I study her delicate features, it occurs to me that my heart has been beating for all these years, but until now, I had not known for whom it beat.