Page 15 of My Big Fat Vampire Wedding

The mess was cleaned up and Dante grabbed an actual carving knife from the kitchen and began to carve the meat himself, as everyone else started to add food to their plates.

“You need to eat, dear,” Ravenna chided Pandora, tapping her arm.

Pandora was getting the impression that her great-aunt was fancying herself the family’s expert on humans and human customs. It was both endearing, because Pandora had to appreciate how much she was clearly trying, and hilarious, because Ravenna and Reginald lived in a castle on a coastal cliff overlooking Devon.

Where she and her husband rarely, if ever, interacted with humans, preferring to have a revolving door of guests hole up with them in elegance and seclusion.

“Men love a woman who can keep her curves,” she said, giving her shoulders a shimmy, which, in turn, made her bosom dance around jollily – and nearly spill out of the low-cut bodice of her gown.

Victor shared an amused look with Pandora as he passed her some of the turnips.

“You know what this meal reminds me of?” Uncle Reginald asked as he heaped the lamprey in blood sauce onto his plate.

Pandora didn’t even know where the plates had come from.

“The meals at the palace directly before the Black Death started,” he continued, making Pandora sigh to herself.

“Lampreys were abundant then. Though, the blood sauce was a bit richer.”

Victor’s brows pinched at that.

“He’s a big history buff,” Dante, at Victor’s side, said, saving Pandora from trying to rack her brain for another excuse.

“Well, if you like that blood sauce so much more, perhaps I shouldn’t ever make it for you.” Ravenna huffed, flicking her silver curls, offended.

“Everything looks lovely,” Victor told Ravenna, making the woman soften immediately.

“See? This young man knows how to speak to a woman who sweated over a stove for seven hours today.”

Pandora imagined that was true – the sweating aside – because she couldn’t imagine her own mother standing at a stove mixing stew or chopping up lamprey.

“So, Victor,” Lucian spoke, making Pandora tense yet again, worried her father was going to try to say something to scare off her fiancé. “I hear you are a student.” Pandora hoped Victor didn’t pick up on the coolness in her father’s voice at that last word.

“I am, sir,” Victor replied, seemingly glad to have a reason to put his fork down.

Down the table, Pandora’s cousin Jasper was plopping chunks of lamprey back into the serving dish so he could sip the blood right out of his bowl.

With Victor distracted, Pandora leaned down, suddenly paranoid about what kind of blood had been used to make the sauce. But all she caught were hints of fish, tomato, and wine. No actual blood at all.

Down the table, Jasper learned this at the same time, choking and spluttering as Bellatrix scowled and wiped a splash of sauce off her bare arm.

“You all right there, my boy?” Uncle Reginald asked, rapping Jasper hard on the back, making him nearly faceplant into his plate piled with jellied eel.

“And how do you plan to take care of my daughter when you are a student?” Lucian asked.

“I will be finishing up university within the next year, sir. Then I plan to become a lecturer myself,” Victor said, pulling himself up to full height, proud of his future plans.

Pandora knew her own father would not be impressed, though. Not when he believed Pandora should be pampered by her husband and his fortune.

She probably should have been trying to think of a way to interject, to guide the conversation toward more neutral ground.

But she was too busy imagining walking into a lecture hall to see Victor standing there at the front, looking studious in a sweater vest and maybe some glasses that he would take off when he was passionate …

Lucian’s next question made Pandora groan. “Are you aware that my daughter is about to inhe—”

The heavy metallic clang of the door knocker echoed through the house, its weighted thud carrying a hollow resonance that seemed to shudder through the very walls.

It cut cleanly through the hum of conversation, the clinking of cutlery, and the heavy tension in the air of the dining room.

“Now, who could that be?” Ravenna asked, glancing up and down the table as if to figure out who wasn’t in attendance.

Though, thanks to their massive extended family, Pandora could think of at least two dozen cousins, aunts, uncles, or friends that weren’t currently taking up seats at the table.

“I will see,” Ophelia said, rising from her seat like a queen from her throne.

If Pandora had been paying closer attention, she might have noticed the devious smile tugging at the corners of her mother’s lips. But she found herself suddenly occupied by the empty chair directly beside her.

Why had they stuck Victor across the table if there was an empty seat right next to her?

As if answering her question in real time, Ophelia moved into the doorway of the dining room.

But she was no longer alone.

Standing beside her was a man who commanded all the attention in the room.

It seemed as if his very presence made the air in the room shift, demanding everyone turn to look at him.

He was tall and impeccably dressed, his tailored suit fitting him like a second skin, every stitch screaming wealth and refinement.

His dark hair gleamed under the chandelier’s light, swept back in effortless waves that framed a face that seemed carved from marble.

He had high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and lips that were curved up in the faintest smile.

It was the eyes that commanded the most attention – a moody grey full of intelligence, their intensity softened only by a slight glint of amusement.

He stood with the easy grace of someone used to being noticed, his posture impeccable, but with an ease that belied his outward formality.

Not a single human in existence exuded that amount of charm and self-possession.

This late stranger?

He was a vampire.

“Everyone, it is my great honor,” Ophelia said, giving a genuine smile, “to introduce to you Elias Thornwell.” She reached to touch the arm of the man at her side.

“Elias, this is my family.” Ophelia waved down the table.

“My husband, Lucian. My son, Dante.” Then, with much more emphasis, she said, “And, of course, my daughter, Pandora.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Elias said, pressing a hand to his heart as his gaze swept the table, landing on Pandora. That lightness in his eyes increased, but Pandora was too confused by his presence to notice.

At least until her mother led Elias over to her side.

And Pandora finally picked up on that mischievous look in her mother’s eyes.

“Pandora,” Elias said as he slid into the seat beside her. She could smell his cologne, something rich and spicy, yet understated. It should have been overwhelming in a pleasant way. But all she could think was that Victor smelled so much more delicious. “I have heard so much about you.”

It was right then that Pandora put it all together.

This wasn’t just a random dinner guest.

And the seat beside her hadn’t just accidentally been left empty.

This had all been planned.

By her mother.

Who didn’t approve of her daughter’s plan to marry a human.

So she’d brought in the most handsome, wealthy, and charming vampire she could find as another, more suitable, love interest.

“Funny,” Pandora said, aware of Victor’s intense gaze from across the table. “I haven’t heard a thing about you.”