Page 11 of Tryst or Treat (Season’s Readings #3)
W hat is wrong with you?” Vlad grabbed his son’s biceps and yanked him away from the group as Belladonna raced beyond his reach, tears streaming down her face.
“What’s wrong with me?” Gabriel challenged. “You’re the one who stole my fiancé on my wedding day, and the little slut doesn’t seem all that upset about it. She looked pretty cozy with you there, Dad.”
“You can be angry at me all you want,” Vlad said, his tone dangerously cold and sharp. “I realize I took what was yours, but you aren’t in love with her. She isn’t right for you.”
“And how do you know that? You’ve been in Europe for years. You didn’t see us together.”
“Because if you loved her, you wouldn’t have let me take her. You would have burned down that church to get to her.”
“How could I?” Gabriel spat, ripping his arm free of his father’s hold. “You wouldn’t let me anywhere near the church.”
“Do you think that would’ve stopped me?” Vlad asked. “Do you think someone just handed me my role as leader of the vampires and wished me luck? No, I took it with blood and sacrifice. My predecessor had reigned for too long, his rule too corrupt, and I was nothing. I was young and unimportant, but I saw something I wanted. I let nothing stop me, and I would do the same for Belladonna. If you truly loved her, the earth would have thundered with your rage. You would’ve challenged me in that church, but you didn’t, which proves my point. She isn’t your mate.”
“Mate?” Gabriel froze. “You can’t seriously think a witch is your mate?”
Vlad fell silent, unable to put the intense draw toward his young wife into words yet. The minute he voiced it, the second he confirmed what he suspected, it changed everything, and not just for him, but for vampires and witches for generations to come.
“You’ve lost your mind,” Gabriel said. “There’s no way that slut of a witch is your mate.”
“Watch your mouth.” Vlad loomed over his son, and the man had the decency to look nervous. “You can be mad at me all you want, but you keep my wife’s name out of your mouth. She’s not to blame. She was upset, hoping you would come for her. It’s one reason why I haven’t touched her. I wanted to see if I was right about you. If you really loved her or if you had some other motive for marrying her, and I know she begged you to take her from me.”
Gabriel froze at his father’s words.
“I know everything that goes on in my house. Everything,” Vlad said. “I know what you said and how you treated her. You don’t love her. You were using her. Why? I’m not sure, but you broke that poor girl’s heart. You were cruel, and that ends now. Belladonna is my wife. Mine, and no one, not even my own son, gets to disrespect her. Is that understood?”
“Whatever. ”
“Is that understood, Gabriel?” Vlad’s voice deepened, his aura darkening, and his son nodded. “Good.” Vlad relaxed and threw an arm over his son’s shoulder. “I love you. I may not always act like it, but I do. I’m not a soft or comforting man. My world is violence and bloodshed, but I do love you. I should say it more. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about how I acted, but you don’t understand what happened to me when I saw her. I couldn’t have walked away even if I tried.”
“It doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s water under the bridge,” Gabriel said. “Nothing has changed. In fact, maybe it’s better that it was you that married her instead of me.”
“What do you mean?” Vlad asked, but his colleagues approached, interrupting their private conversation. The vampires whisked him away, consuming his attention as Gabriel faded into the background, and Vlad felt uneasiness settle in his gut, which only worsened as he watched his wife finally exit the bathroom and aim straight for the bar.
Belladonna forced herself to leave the bathroom, her eyes red and puffy from sobbing. Two different girls knocked on her stall to ask if she was okay, but she refused to come out until her face hurt. How had this become her life? One minute she was marrying a man she loved, and the next, she was marrying the enemy to save her coven. Then, when she’d begged Gabriel to take her away, to deliver her from her fate, he’d told her she wasn’t worth it. She’d been willing to fight for their relationship, but he’d spat in her face. And those names he’d uttered in front of his father… a man who loved a woman would never say that. A man in love would’ve fought, would have stormed the castle and carried her out, but instead, he’d called her words no one should ever speak.
That whisper broke her heart. She hadn’t realized she was still holding out for Gabriel, that she’d been hoping he would fight for her, but a single sentence told her how mistaken she’d been. He didn’t love her. She feared he never had.
Belladonna stumbled to the bar and started to order a drink, but then stopped and changed her request to two whiskey shots. She still tasted the one Vlad gave her despite the salt of her tears, and while she refused to look at him, his eyes burned holes in her skin. Vlad. The angel of death. The vampire named for the Impaler. He was a brute. He was the source of her heartbreak, yet he’d sworn to rip apart anyone who so much as looked at her inappropriately. He was the one who bought her gifts, who refused to touch her without consent, who never once spoke disrespectfully to her, even though she was his enemy’s daughter. If someone took her from him, would he fight for her? As insane and power-hungry as he was, as violent and selfish as he was, would he storm the gates of hell for her? Or would he call her vile words in a cruel tone?
Belladonna slammed both shots and ordered a cocktail because she didn’t need to ask that question. Vlad might be the most ruthless vampire to walk the earth. He might be delusional and the type to steal his son’s bride, but Gabriel hadn’t come for her. He hadn’t fought, but Vlad would have. She knew it in her soul. Her husband would’ve rescued her.
Belladonna peeled herself off the bar, loathing her emotions. They felt like traitors, but something had shifted inside her. Vlad affected her magic, and it was as if her power was feeding off of him, growing as he fueled her. She hadn’t noticed it at home, but here, with her magic humming below her skin, she knew it had changed. It was burning, pulsing, swelling. It was as if a living creature had surged to life within her, and the implications were alarming. That only happened when a witch found their mate. Her magic lay dormant around Gabriel, but it raged to life in his father’s presence. And she despised it. She hated how the man who forced this marriage might have done the right thing. Granted, he’d gone about it in the wrong way, but if Vlad was her mate, then she couldn’t marry another man. To ignore a mate was to live an excruciating existence. No witch had ever bonded with a vampire. She didn’t think it was possible, but why else could she physically feel his sight? Why was her magic vibrating? Why was the taste of him in that shot consuming her?
Belladonna didn’t want to like him, but all she could concentrate on was Vlad’s promise to kill anyone who harmed her, his gifts, and his tolerance for her aggravating behavior. She was safe in the home of a vampire. Safe enough to antagonize him, and the emotions swirling through her chest threatened to make her sick. She needed to dance. To let her magic flow through her until all her focus was on her power.
“Hey, beautiful, can I buy you a drink?” a man interrupted her movements, and she looked up to find four handsome men circling her. For a split second, she told herself to flirt with them to piss Vlad off, but the idea crumbled to ash. She didn’t want to entertain strangers. She aggravatingly wanted to flirt with her husband, to ease the heartache by being around someone who didn’t spew venom at her.
“No, thanks.” She turned away and swayed to the music, sipping her cocktail. The bartender had made it unusually strong, and she savored the burn as her brain grew fuzzy.
“A woman as pretty as you shouldn’t drink alone.” He stepped behind her and slid a hand around her belly, cementing her to his chest. “At least dance with me.”
“I don’t…” she trailed off, confused as to why he was touching her. Had she asked him to join her? How much had she drunk? Wasn’t she here with someone? She wore a ring, so she must be married… right? “I’m okay…” she slurred. “I can dance by myself.”
“Oh, come on.” The man yanked her, and with sluggish fingers, she formed a spell. An electric shock blasted him, and he shouted before tightening his hold. “So, the bitch wants a fight.” His voice darkened, the flirtation gone, and panic flooded Belladonna’s alcohol-soaked brain.
“Looks like a witch wandered into our midst, boys.” The man hoisted her up by the waist. She tried to pull on her magic, but neither her mind nor her fingers would work.
“I say we teach her a lesson,” he continued, and even though Belladonna couldn’t focus, she knew enough to realize the four men had moved her to a back alley. She started to cry as they shoved her into the shadows because her power had vanished, and she knew what happened to witches when vampires found them alone and helpless in the dark.