The Vampire's Bride

by Isabella Olivia Ellis

  “Sloane, may I ask a question?”

  His smile widened, and she could see his fangs glinting in the candlelight.

  “Of course, you needn’t have to ask.”

  Gulping softly, she whispered, “Is it true? What they say about Others?”

  Sloane’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, as in seduction. I’ve heard tales my whole life of vampires being able to take anyone to bed, willing or unwilling.”

  Sloane straightened up. “It’s true. That is an ability my kind possesses. But I have never used it. Nor would I use it on you. I want you to want to be my wife, Caroline. I want you to be happy. The prophecy means nothing if our union is a farce.”

  Caroline worried she had offended him. He looked so serious and melancholy when replying to her. Being an Other in a world filled mainly with mortals couldn’t be easy. She raised a hand and slid it behind his ear, then down his cheek. His skin felt cool to the touch, but not strange in any other way. Along his chin, she felt the coarseness of his stubble and smiled to herself. She loved this manly aspect, and she loved his words. He wanted them to be happy together. Her nervousness was slowly melting away.

  Sloane leaned close to Caroline’s face. She felt his eyes lock on hers and she leaned forward a little as well. Their lips met in an open kiss, and he slipped his tongue over hers. At first, kissing Sloane was an odd sensation. Where their tongues met, his mouth felt warm, yet she still sensed a sort of coldness. Perhaps it was his breath? It reminded Caroline of a few winters ago, when she burned her finger on a candle. Emily brought a bowl of snow for her to plunge her hand into. Only, that experience was painful, and this one was of pleasure. He ran his hand deep into her hair, tugging softly on her tresses as they pressed against each other. Slowly, she reclined into the bed, and Sloane followed her. He shifted so his body was on top of hers, and Caroline could feel the texture of his shirt on her breasts through her thin gown.

  As their mouths explored each other, Sloane let his hands roam from her hair down to her body. Timidly, Caroline slid her hands from his chest and up over his back. The muscles of his lean body were strong and sinewy. One of his hands found her breast, and he lightly pinched her nipple until it hardened into a pebble. Caroline let out a slow hum of arousal. Her weakness had always been a slightly rough touch on her breasts. Sloane must have taken this as a good sign, and slid his body down so his face was level to her chest. He nuzzled the nipple of her other breast with his lips until it rose to match the first one. Then, he returned to the first and sucked it, cloth and all, into his mouth. His fingers played along her thighs and then slipped under her chemise, tracing their way up to the breast his mouth wasn’t focusing on. The combination of his skin on her bare flesh, and his mouth and the wet silk of her nipple made her arch her back in desire.

  Sloane sat up on his knees and motioned for her to do the same. Caroline obeyed, and he pulled her nightgown over her head, leaving her completely naked. She could feel herself blush and cupped her hands over her soft, bare breasts.

  “Don’t,” he said, taking her hands in his and lowering them to her sides. “You’re beautiful. Lay back.”

  Caroline obeyed, and he leaned down and began kissing his way from her mouth, down her neck, to her breasts, and then south across her stomach. He moved himself in front of her knees, and placed a hand on each one.

  “Spread your legs.” He commanded her, albeit gently.

  Confused, she kept her legs together. Caroline knew it was imperative that she remain a virgin until after they were wed. Did Sloane mean to go against the Prophecy?

  Smiling, Sloane shook his head. “My lady, have faith in me.”

  Deciding to trust him –– after all, he would be her husband in just a few days –– Caroline opened her legs. Sloane lowered himself down between them and continued his kissing where he left off, down the curve of her hip and then toward her cunny. She felt his hair tickle the insides of her thighs and she started to giggle, but right at that moment, his kisses landed on her there. His tongue traced from the top of her slit to her secret hole. Her body tingled with the thrill of it. This was something she’d never done before, not even with Luke, for she felt it was too easy to get carried away.

  Switching up the pressure, he alternated between long slow licks and short, soft kisses on her pussy. Then, he slid his tongue upwards and focused on what Caroline called her rosebud. Occasionally, in the dark of night and in the privacy of her bed, she would touch herself there until her legs tingled and her cunny tightened. As he circled his tongue and fingers on her, Caroline felt the familiar rising in her lower stomach, a sign that she was going to cum soon. She tensed her legs around his head and turned into her pillow to avoid crying out loud.

  Sloane sat up as she did, and pulled her in for a deep kiss. “I must be going, my lady. I await tomorrow’s journey. I am looking forward to you seeing my homeland.”

  Caroline smiled against his face. “I am as well. Good night, Sloane.”

  Chapter Eight

  Minutes after Sloane left her room, Sophie came sneaking in.

  “Emily came to me as soon as she saw him leave. What happened?” She whispered, all the while feeling her way in the dark to the bed. She climbed in and snuggled under the covers with her sister. Sophie and Caroline talked over the night’s events in hushed tones, and eventually fell asleep curled up together as though still in the womb.

  A few hours later, the girls were startled awake by the sound of shattering glass. Blearily, Caroline sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was still dark outside and she could barely see her hand in front of her face. Suddenly, she felt an arm around her midsection, and a gloved hand across her mouth. She started to kick frantically as Sophie sat up and tried pulling her sister back.

  “There’s two of them!” exclaimed a deep, rough voice.

  Another male voice said, “Then get them both!”

  Someone dove onto the bed and grabbed Sophie. She was able to let out a single small shriek and then Caroline heard something muffle her voice. That was the last thing she heard before something cold and hard struck the back of her head, and she faded into blackness.

  Caroline was in the dream once more. Running for her life down a strange castle’s hall, heart beating fast enough to burst out of her chest. Her bare feet slapped painfully against the stone floor, and her hair flew behind her like a flag. Once more, she had a vague recollection of something having to do with Sophie, but she wasn’t behind her. Where was Sophie? And where was she?

  When Caroline came to, she was on the floor of a carriage with her arms and legs bound and a rag stuffed in her mouth. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious. Strands of her hair were stuck to her forehead, stiff with blood. Judging from the frantic hoof beats and the jarring force with which the carriage bumped along the road, she guessed they must be going at a breakneck speed. Just inches from her face was Sophie, bound and gagged in the same fashion. She was still out, and had a vicious-looking purple bump on her forehead. Caroline struggled to free herself, but the rope was too tight. Instead, she carefully kneed Sophie in the leg until her sister’s eyes blinked open, and then widened in alarm as they took in the situation.

  Before either sister could attempt to communicate further, the movements of the carriage came to an abrupt halt. They heard a horse whinny, and the loud thumping of boots. The door swung open, and a masked man appeared. His arms were bulging with muscle, and he was wide enough to completely block the doorway. This man scooped Sophie up and carried her away. Caroline tried to scream through the cloth in her throat, and another man appeared to toss her over his shoulder. He handled her like a farm animal going off to be slaughtered.

  Chapter Nine

  Sloane was just beginning to stir from sleep when Lord Chase, his gentleman of the bedchamber, came tearing into the room.

  “Your Highness!” he cried, far more undignified than Sloane had ever seen the nobleman.

  Sloane sat
up and stretched his arms over his head.

  “Matthew, whatever is it, my good man?”

  Lord Chase hurried about the room, gathering Sloane’s clothing and shoes.

  “Prince Sloane, you must dress straight away. Your bride is gone.”

  Sloane’s head jerked back in surprise. “Gone? You mean she ran away?” It didn’t make sense to him. The last he had seen her, she seemed more than content to be the Chosen. He didn’t want to overestimate himself, but he thought she even may have begun to perhaps love him.

  “It appears the Lady and her sister, Lady Sophie Haley, were taken. The windows were broken and there are tracks outside. There was some blood on the duvet, and it appears as though the ladies struggled.”

  “Blood?” said Sloane, standing and quickly pulling on his clothes. “Bring me the duvet. Now.”

  Nodding, Lord Chase hurried away to follow the command. Sloane splashed cold water on his face, leftover from his nightly routine. He sat down on a chair and began to pull on his boots. Lord Chase returned, breathless, with the thick, white duvet. He handed it to Sloane, and Sloane could see the small blood stains. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffed hard and closed his eyes. The scent recall was so strong it nearly rocked him back.

  “It’s Caroline’s,” he murmured. Sloane shook his head viciously to bring him to his senses. “Bring forth my sword. Gather the best of our men and those brought from Scollfyld. Alert the stable boys to prepare the horses and carriages. And be quick about it. There’s no doubt the Scarclyfs have heard about the Choosing. Lord knows what they plan to do to Caroline.”

  The entire palace was in an upset. The twins’ father, the Duke of Wallaceshire, was demanding to be allowed to go on the rescue expedition. But Sloane adamantly refused, explaining that they needed men trained in battle who were the most skilled on a horse. King Victor produced several of his best men, including Lord Luke Stone. And every Bernehart knight who had accompanied the Vaughan royal family volunteered their services. However, Sloane turned some away, insisting that the Palace must remain well guarded. By noon, the men were ready to ride, with Sloane leading the way to the Scarclyf castle on the edge of Bernehart.

  Chapter Ten

  The girls found themselves in a dark, dank dungeon. The walls were rough stone, and they could hear water dripping from somewhere across the room. They huddled together for warmth, as they each had on only the nightgowns they were wearing when they had been snatched.

  “How long have we been here?” Sophie asked in a whisper, clinging to her sister even tighter.

  Caroline shook her head. “I have no idea.” She added, “Perhaps a day?”

  “I wonder what they’re going to do to us. Did you see the men in charge? They’re wicked Others.”

  Indeed, Caroline had seen the obvious leaders of the group. One had been called Alexandre and another was Mathias. The girls knew they had to be evil, for no Other in good standing with Bernehart royalty would have kidnapped them.

  Before either girl could say another word, the heavy door at the top of the stairs squealed open, and two of the men from earlier appeared. The men grabbed both resisting girls and dragged them up the dungeon stairs to the main level of the castle. From there, the girls were once again tossed over the shoulders of the large men and were carried up a grand, winding staircase to the second floor. They went down a corridor lined with closed doors until they arrived at the very end room, the only one with an open door. It appeared to be a formal parlor, with chaises and seats surrounding a massive fireplace. The men tossed the girls down on the floor in front of the Other called Mathias.

  “Master Scarclyf,” one of the men began, but he was cut off by the look on his master’s face and began backing up towards the door where a few other men waited and watched.

  “Silence. I’m still trying to comprehend how the lot of you could make such a mess. You had explicit instructions as to which room the Chosen would be in, yet somehow, here we are with two women?”

  Mathias Scarclyf circled both girls like a wolf toying with its prey. Caroline and Sophie gripped their hands tightly together as the dangerous vampire’s peculiar blood-red eyes raked over them. It was obvious that he was an evil Other. According to legend, the only way a vampire’s eyes could turn that signature red would be if they subsisted entirely on human blood. Because of this, he also had the palest skin Caroline had ever seen on another person. He was tall, at least a foot taller than Caroline’s 5-foot-2-inch frame. His hair was white blonde, short, and wild. She could imagine him pacing the floors of his castle, raking his hands through his hair, and plotting her capture. Worst of all, he was incredibly handsome, in spite of the paleness and eye color. Or, perhaps, because of it. He had a dangerous air about him, and women were often drawn to some element of danger.

  “Very interesting.” he commented. “I would never have imagined that the Chosen would be a twin. Now, ladies, you can willingly tell us which of you is the Chosen. Or, you can make it hard on yourselves.”

  Caroline felt Sophie give her hand a quick squeeze, as though reassuring her that she would never throw her to this terrifying Other. The sisters remained silent and still.

  “Very well,” Mathias said, motioning one of his burly men forward. “I see we are going to have to force it out of you.”

  Mathias pointed at Sophie, and one of the guards who had brought the girls up from the dungeon snatched her free hand and began bending all of her fingers backward toward her wrist. Sophie screamed in pain as her hand contorted, and she twisted her body trying to get away. The sound of at least one of her fingers snapping was loud enough to be heard over her screams.

  Dropping Sophie’s other hand, Caroline rushed towards Mathias. “Please stop… I am the Chosen. Leave my sister be.”

  The guard released Sophie and she dropped to the ground clutching her injured hand to her chest, her face white as a sheet. “Caroline, no!”

  Smiling darkly, Mathias said, “So, Caroline. You’re the Chosen, eh?” Turning his attention, he made another quick gesture and the guard began dragging Sophie out of the room.

  “Stop!” Caroline cried. “I told you I’m the Chosen!”

  Mathias shook his head, grinning. “Indeed. That’s why I’m sending your sister and the guards out. We no longer have need of her, after all.”

  The other men and the guard dragging Sophie moved for the door and Caroline threw herself at them, trying to catch hold of her sister. Mathias’s arm shot out and caught her square across the chest. Caroline felt as though she had hit a brick wall. Gasping, she took several steps back away from him and his inhuman strength. Still screaming, Sophie was carried out of the room and out of Caroline’s sight. The last guard leaving pulled the door shut behind him.

  Holding one hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath, Caroline cried out, “Please, don’t hurt her. Sophie has nothing to do with this.”

  Without saying a word, Mathias moved across the room and reached for a fire poker. A chill ran down Caroline’s back, but then he merely stoked the fire with it.

  “Why don’t you have a seat, Caroline?” He enunciated her name, as though rubbing in the fact that he wasn’t properly addressing her.

  Caroline stood her ground, and tried to keep her voice from shaking when she said, “I am fine standing, thank you.”

  She cringed after the “thank you” came out. Proper etiquette had been instilled in her since she was old enough to talk, but it felt bizarre to thank her own captor. Caroline resolved to keep herself from acquiescing to him any more.

  Mathias straightened up from the fireplace and turned back to face her. “That wasn’t really a request, Caroline.”

  Again with her name. Caroline felt her temper flare. None of the gentlemen in Scollfyld would be so incredibly improper. Of course, she supposed she couldn’t expect much from this type of Other. He drank human blood to sustain himself, even though it wasn’t necessary. Animal blood was in vast supply. Clearly, he was below manners and
proper respect.

  Caroline shook her head and crossed her arms.

  Running his tongue along his teeth, Mathias paused for a second. And in the next second, he lunged in Caroline’s direction. He shoved her, and she went flying backward onto the chaise lounge behind her. Her head hit the back of the seat with a thud and she was dizzy for a moment and couldn’t think, let alone move. Mathias was on her in the next instant, tearing at her thin gown with raging abandon. His eyes, already disconcerting, were now terrifying in his fury. Her chemise was in shreds, the fabric pooled on the chaise around her body. She was now naked and trembling beneath him. Regaining her senses, Caroline started to struggle as best she could. Her small frame and thin limbs were no match for the supernatural strength of an enraged Other. She squeezed her eyes tight as she flailed at him, fearing that at any moment, his fangs would sink into her flesh and drain her of her blood.

  Then, strangely, Mathias was still. Had she managed to fight him off? Caroline opened her eyes and he was staring at her, with a slight smile on his cruel, handsome face. It was as though he suddenly decided to switch tactics.

  “Caroline,” he said. “Caroline, Caroline, Caroline.” He ran his hand down her face. “You’re so beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, I can’t imagine how you’re the Chosen one. How you’ve managed to keep your virginity all these years.”

  Jerking her face away from his touch, Caroline reared her head back and did the most unladylike thing she’d ever done in her life. She spit directly in his face, and it landed below one eye. Mathias slapped her in the face with the same hand that had just been caressing it. It stung so badly that she had to bite her lip to avoid crying out. She wouldn’t grant him that pleasure.

  “You’re a feisty one, Caroline. I like that, at first. I’ll just have to put you in your place.” He wiped the saliva off with the back of his hand. Then he slipped his shirt over his head, revealing dense, white flesh. He looked as though he had been carved from marble.