“Do you promise to obey Lord Arcos in all things from this day forward?”
Alliana bristled like an angry porcupine at his simple question and looked at the priest incredulously. Didn’t she at least get to say vows of some sort? She knew she couldn’t protest or scream out to the world about how unjust it all was, but he hadn’t even said her name. Among her people, the couple made promises to each other that would bind them in a union for life. It wasn’t like this. This was void of emotions. Her wishes and happiness didn’t matter. She was a mere possession being handed to the man before her. This seemed more of a ceremony to give Mikhal the Merciless ownership of her than a ritual based on love and desire.
Her silence did not go over well with Mikhal. He gave a snarl, which could be heard by all in attendance. It immediately brought Alliana back to the reality of the situation, and scared the terrified priest to an even greater degree.
“Yes. I agree to take Lord Arcos as my husband.” She desperately wanted to say ‘Not Master, and definitely not owner!’, but didn’t dare.
“Do you have the ring?”
Mikhal turned to Marishka, and she handed him the ring she’d had the jeweler make for Alliana. He looked at it, frowning slightly, and then turned back, and took Alliana’s hand, sliding it on her finger. “With this ring I claim you as my wife.”
Alliana looked down at the huge, heavy piece of gold that lay like a weight on her finger, and couldn’t stop her look of distaste. It was much too big to be tasteful. Large, blood red rubies surrounded a gold circular center that bore the Arcos coat of arms. Each ruby was in turn circled with tiny diamonds, making the stones appear even larger. The monstrosity extended to her middle knuckle. If the thing had a chain affixed to it, it could have served as a shackle for her. Alliana tried to pull her hand back, out of Mikhal’s grasp, feeling the need to rip the offending thing from her finger, but he wouldn’t allow it. Instead he tightened his grasp, then circled his index finger under her hand and stroked her palm insidiously to see her reaction. Mikhal knew very well that she was very displeased with the shiny bauble, and he wanted to see how far he could push her when she knew she had to behave. There were many ways to punish his wife for her rudeness to Marishka, and Mikhal the Merciless was just getting started. He knew her inability to lash out at him would cause her distress.
Alliana felt his finger slowly stroking her palm and the feeling sent a sick sensation straight to the pit of her stomach. She knew at once that he was trying to get a rise out of her, could tell by the glint in his cold blue eyes. She gave an involuntary shiver as his fingertip danced along the underside of her wrist and stopped briefly to press against her pulse point, before moving to make slow circles in her palm. The simple but unnerving stroking gave her goose bumps, and sent a chill down her spine as he looked at her with merriment. His subtle act making her feel unclean. Marishka, keen eyes missing nothing between her beloved brother and the undesirable chit, let out a peal of mad laughter at Alliana’s discomfort.
The priest, seeing the actions of Mikhal the Merciless, hearing Marishka’s bizarre laughter, and eyeing the other vampires as they chuckled at the humorous display of domination shown by their leader, was quite perplexed. One thing he did know however was that he needed to get far from the castle as quickly as possible if he had any hopes of leaving with his soul intact.
“Let us partake of the Holy Sacrament to finalize your commitment.”
Mikhal openly sneered at the priest but nodded his consent to the ritual he thought of as ludicrous. He knew there was no God, but he would participate in the pathetic rite, so his son could carry on his name. He took the silver chalice from the openly quaking man, and drank deeply, and then he passed the cup to Alliana. She accepted it, grateful to have her hands free from Mikhal’s grip, and took a very unladylike gulp. Mikhal raised one eyebrow, and cocked his head disapprovingly, but Alliana simply looked away and returned the chalice to the priest. She’d be damned if she wasn’t going to find what solace she could, even if it was only a bit of wine.
“You have been joined in holy matrimony before the eyes of God, and stand before him to...”
“Enough of that nonsense. Declare the girl my wife.” The farce had gone on long enough and any legality would be seen to when he had a moment alone with the priest. He was done paying false homage to a deity he didn’t worship.
“Very well. Lord Arcos, you may now claim this woman as your lawful wife. She is yours. You may kiss her.”
Mikhal’s eyes took on an unholy fire as he reached forward and gently lifted Alliana’s veil, folding it back over her hair. He then crushed her to him, arms wrapping around her like steel bands, as the minions cheered. One hand snaked into her hair and tilted her head back, causing her veil to fall, and pool at her feet behind her as his lips came down to claim what had been denied him.
It started soft, then turned demanding when she didn’t respond, pressure building as his mouth dominated her tiny lips, seeking what she wasn’t prepared to give. Mikhal molded her body to hers, and kissed her without mercy, without tenderness, without care for the spectators who were shocked by this open display of passion. He forced her lips apart, claiming her in the only way he could before prying eyes, and swept his tongue across hers in an age-old dance that left her breathless, and then suckled her tongue in the most lewd fashion until she thought she would faint.
When Mikhal felt Alliana’s knees weaken and her body go slack in his arms, finally relenting to his domination, he turned the kiss gentler, teaching her that submission was always expected and rewarded. His lips released hers and she gasped for breath as his mouth traveled down the thin column of her throat then up to her ear. “Such a delicious treat you are sweet, and now you’re all mine. You’re going to be ever so tasty, my Pet.”
Alliana whimpered, still dizzy and stunned by his kiss, and leaned into him only to keep herself from crumpling to the floor. Her body was raging with sensations, some of which she didn’t understand, none of which she liked, fear, anger, panic, uncertainty, and a strange heat that spiraled forth from deep in her belly.
The priest cleared his throat to get Mikhal’s attention, and Alliana turned as well. Now what? She saw that he had laid a sheet of parchment on the alter. “My Lord. The document, if you wouldn’t mind. It must be witnessed.”
“Yes of course. Come, Alliana. Marishka, did you bring what I asked?”
“Of course, Darling. I do everything my Mikhal asks.” Marishka attempted to move between Alliana and Mikhal but Mikhal slipped an arm around her, and guided his sister to his other side. The priest picked up a writing quill and a vessel of ink, but Mikhal shook his head and waved the ink away. He took the quill and set it on the marriage document before him, then looked at his new wife.
“Alliana Dear, do you know how to make your mark? Can you sign your name?”
“Of course I can. I’m not an illiterate simpleton.” His question had snapped her from her daze, making the anger rise within her breast once more.
“Hold your tongue Pet or bad things will happen. Give me your hand.” Alliana held it out nervously, and Mikhal grasped it firmly, and then held his other hand out to Marishka. She pulled a small dagger from the folds of her gown, to the accompaniment of gasps from the human side of the chapel, and handed it to her brother, then looked at Alliana with glee. Alliana tried to jerk her hand away, but Mikhal held her fast.
“It will only be a small wound, don’t make a fuss.” He made a small cut on the tip of her ring finger, and then cut his own; moved to hold their two fingers together and squeezing with his other hand to make a small pool of their mixed blood on the stone alter. His action caused a small moan of distress to escape from Alliana, but Mikhal ignored it for now. This had to be done to seal their joining.
Releasing her hand, Mikhal picked up the quill and dipped the tip in the blood, handing it to Alliana and indicating where she should sign. She looked at him, horrified, but complied, then stood mutely as he penn
ed his name as well. Once the deed was done, Mikhal brought Alliana’s hand to his mouth and gently lapped at her injured fingers, sealing her wound, then licking his lips as he closed his eyes and savored his first taste of his new bride.
When he slowly opened his eyes again, blue met with troubled hazel, and Mikhal saw that Alliana had turned pale once more. His wife had inner fire, but it seemed she was a bit squeamish too. Well, that was something she would have to get over very quickly. He scooped her up in his arms and turned to face the crowd. Spying Andor he called out to the minion as he strode down the aisle with Alliana in his arms.
“See that the priest and our guests arrive home safely, Andor, but choose a few to entertain us tomorrow at the banquet. They shall be summoned at dusk. Marishka, I need you Darling.” That said Mikhal the Merciless carried his new bride from the chapel full of stunned peasants and down the corridor to her new life as Lady Arcos.
Chapter Eight
Mikhal strode through the passageways with Alliana in his arms. Anticipation filled him with each stride, quickening his step, making his blood race hot through his veins. His wild Gypsy wife stirred a great passion in his loins. Tonight there would be no cold vampire or screaming peasant in his bed to satisfy his needs, no, tonight he would have the pleasure of bedding his innocent little bride. What a marvelous contrast she would be to his usual bed partners.
The vampire women, especially Marishka, were wild and fiery, the heat of their lust more than making up for the coldness of their bodies. They dug in with their claws, their passions matching his own in an unrelenting battle that he found most stimulating at times, but Mikhal also found them demanding. Alliana on the other hand was soft and silky, innocent and pliable, and her velvety depths would sear him with exquisite heat. Her mother had told her to behave too, so there would be no real resistance. She was his wife, and as such would do her duty to him in their marriage bed. Oh he knew he would have to school her of course, to show her what pleased him, but soon she would service him without hesitation. She would be a wonderful pet. Obedient and loyal, always doing as she was told.
She would also be taught what was expected of her in her role outside of the bedchamber as his Lady, but she would be made to know her place of course. There would be no tolerance for airs. Alliana would be the Lady of Castle Arcos in name only. Her uppity nature towards Marishka would be dealt with immediately. It simply couldn’t be tolerated. Pity he had to chastise her on their wedding night, but it must be done. As for his minions, they would show Alliana respect, but she would never rule over them. They, like Marishka, would always have the upper hand, though he would never allow the minions to touch her. And he himself, well he was her Lord and Master, and she would do well to never forget it.
Once she did her duty and bore him a son, her continued existence would be up to her. While it was true, the girl had magick he desired, the child she gave him would be more than enough to suit his needs if she proved too troublesome. If she continued to please him, she would be allowed to live, if not, Marishka and her followers could have the wench. It was that simple.
There would also be no mother/son bond to save her from the fate her disposition determined. Her importance would depend solely on whether she satisfied him. His heir would hold no devotion for his mother. That wouldn't be tolerated. Vampires could feel no affection for humans, and his son would be half human in body only, his mind and soul would belong to his father. Mikhal the Merciless planned to make quite sure of that.
He reached the top of the staircase and saw a sentry on guard in front of the huge set of wooden doors that opened to his chambers. "Master." The minion immediately said as he bowed his head and knelt before Mikhal.
"You may rise. Has Marishka’s Mage been sent for?"
"Yes Sire, just as you bid." The man kept his head bowed hoping Mikhal would be pleased. He opened the doors and ushered his Lord in. Mikhal went forward into the room, and set Alliana on her feet.
“Marishka finds it most entertaining to dabble with the dark magicks. One of her cohorts will be joining us in a bit to make sure you beget me a son. See that you act accordingly if he arrives before I return. There is something I must see to before our wedding night may commence. Marishka will be along as well to see that you are dressed as I desire for the bedding. I expect you to behave in her presence. You have already earned a punishment for your insolence to my sister. I imagine it won’t be to your liking, so further disobedience would be most unwise. I shall be back shortly.”
Alliana cringed. Would she not escape Marishka even on her wedding night? And what of this other who would be joining them as well? She looked up to see that Mikhal was looking at her expectantly; the fire of annoyance flaring in his eyes, and quickly gave the response he expected. “As you wish, My Lord.”
“That’s a good girl. I’ll be back soon.”
She wanted to scream at him, wanted to tell him not to hurry on her accord, wanted to throw an urn at his insolent, domineering back as he left, but instead Alliana stood mutely, hating herself for it, but knowing there was no use in making him even more angry. He was to bed her that very night and if she had any hope for gentleness, it lay in pleasing him and keeping him in good temperament.
Marishka arrived within moments with a flourish, nightdress on her arm, a smug look of satisfaction on her face. “Now you’ll see what happens to naughty girls who can’t hold their tongues and dare to upset their betters. Take off that gown, Mikhal wants you ready when he returns.” Alliana reached for the night shift but Marishka stepped back, out of reach, her eyes glittering merrily as she wagged her finger at Alliana and shook her head. “I said strip down you little chit.”
“Don’t toy with me, Marishka. If you want me to change, it will be behind the dressing screen.”
Marishka’s face turned petulant, she didn’t enjoy being spoken to as if she were some commoner. “You will do as I say, and you will do it this instant. I thought Mikhal made it quite clear that you were to stop being defiant. “Besides” In a flash her annoyance was gone, replaced by something much more sinister. She licked her lips and her eyes took on a gleam that made Alliana’s blood run cold, “I want to look at my brother’s new plaything too. You could be mine someday. Now do as you’re told and remove your gown girl, or would you prefer I tear it off you? Fighting back won’t please my minion, but I find the idea rather titillating.”
Alliana looked over her shoulder to see a leering Andor. The minion was thrilled by the little tiff going on between his Mistress and the Gypsy slut. Mikhal the Merciless may make him treat her gently, but Marishka had other ideas, and Andor wanted to watch Alliana suffer for what had been done to him. Besides, if the bitch laid one finger on Marishka it would give him just cause to do more than touch her.
“Do you honestly think Lord Arcos wants him ogling me? You can’t be serious. I know you’re insane, but I didn’t think you’re stupid.” Marishka had reached a new level of depravity and Alliana wasn’t going to play along no matter what it cost her. She would submit to her husband, but she refused to disrobe for the enjoyment of his twisted sister and her minion.
In a flash Marishka was on her, a cry of rage issuing from her throat. Alliana had defied and insulted her for the last time. She wouldn’t disappoint her Mikhal again. She slapped Alliana, back and forth, with her vampire strength and lightning speed, stunning her before the other woman could react. Alliana fell to her knees, holding her cheek, one arm lashing out at her attacker. She gripped the arm of the chair behind her, tasting blood in her mouth and tried to rise, her head spinning, but Marishka came forward and tore her wedding gown and chemise down the center, ripping them in half, spilling her breasts out for all to see.
Alliana cried out, moving her arms to cover herself, dazed by the attack. She had been right in assuming that Marishka was far stronger than she appeared. Still, she tried to raise again, self-preservation and an inner rage kicking in.
The look in her eyes said it all as she stru
ggled to her feet, body swaying, ears ringing, and arms holding her body. She was going to fight if it meant the death of her. Seeing this, Andor stepped forward, growling, vamping out, and threatening the woman who looked as if she would throw herself at his Lady.
“Be a good boy, Andor and give the new Lady Arcos her nightgown so she can change.”
Marishka held the thing out, away from her, as Alliana looked at the vampiress in stunned silence. What had caused her sudden turnabout? Why was the woman backing down? She could see Marishka’s fists curled at her sides, clearly displaying the depth of her anger. It was then she noticed the glint of amber in her eyes as well. Marishka’s eyes were glowing with a feral light as she stared at the trickle of blood running down Alliana’s chin. Alliana realized with a start what was keeping the other woman away. It was because she was about to rip her throat out. Marishka saw her blood and wanted to tear her to pieces.
Alliana quickly grabbed the nightgown and fled for the privacy afforded by the dressing screen, hastily donning the garment that left very little to the imagination, and swiping at the blood on her chin, wincing as she did so. The tight ball of fury still burned within her at Marishka’s actions, and Alliana vowed she’d pay her back; one way or another, but now wasn’t the time. She didn’t know how long it would take for Marishka to drain the lifeblood from her body, but she couldn’t be sure her husband would return in time to save her.
Alliana emerged, dressed as required, ignoring Marishka and her nauseating eyes that shone with both lust and a need for blood. Turning her back, she went to sit in a chair near the fire, trying to make the chilling numbness dissipate from her bones. Mikhal entered, the young boy from the courtyard of the previous evening in tow, eyes sweeping the room for his bride. He spied Andor instead, and frowned, not at all pleased.
Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Taken Page 9
