Page 4 of Tryst or Treat (Season’s Readings #3)
W hat?” Belladonna gasped as the witches erupted with violent voices. She tried to yank her hand free of Vlad’s hold, but his grip was too strong. It didn’t hurt, but his strength was clear. There was no escape.
“Get your hands off my daughter!” Rowena lunged forward, her fingers already forming a defensive spell. It seemed she didn’t care that they were outnumbered. She was willing to shatter decades’ worth of peace for her child, and as she prepared to throw the first assault, the witches rallied to her cause.
“You wanted an alliance,” Vlad said calmly, as the room exploded around them. “I’m here to give you the wedding you so foolishly tried to hide from me.”
“I don’t care who you are,” Rowena growled. “If you don’t release my daughter, I will kill you.”
Five vampires lunged for her, and time slowed as Belladonna watched the scene unfold. Seconds stretched on endlessly, showing her the witches’ bloody future. Her mother was moments away from attacking the man known as the angel of death, and while Rowena could hold her own, the vampires had the upper hand. An attack would be fatal for the coven, and Belladonna realized with a sickening twist of her gut that she was the only person in the church with the power to stop the carnage. It would require a choice, though, a decision that would forever alter her future. She had to choose between her mother and her fiancé. Would she save the woman who’d given her life, who always fought and sacrificed for her, or would she choose a fiancé who wasn’t even there? She understood Vlad was a force to be reckoned with, but Gabriel was his son. If anyone could fight their way through this horde, it was him, yet he was absent.
“Stop!” she screamed, throwing an electric shock of magic at the vampires descending on her mother, and the men stumbled backward at the incredible force. “Just stop!” The church fell silent, and with a somber look at her parents, Belladonna faced Vlad.
“Bella, no!” Rowena shouted, but she ignored her mom as she gazed up at the impossibly tall man. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. He read the surrender in her gaze.
“Excellent.” Vlad glanced at the shaking officiant. “You may begin.”
The man’s eyes flicked to Rowena, but he understood their predicament as much as she did. The witches were outnumbered and outmaneuvered. Vlad had won this battle, and she was his spoils of war. As the coven’s heir, Belladonna was always aware she might be required to marry for an alliance and not for love, but as the priest began the ceremony with a shaking voice, the reality of her future settled deep into her bones. She was marrying a vampire, and not the one she loved. She was binding her fate to the man named for the Impaler himself. The enemy her mother had spent her daughter’s entire life trying to hide her from.
“Do you take Belladonna to be your lawfully wedded wife, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death… true death do you part?” the officiant said, snapping Belladonna out of her trance, and she stared up at the vampire as he leaned forward to ensure his words were explicitly clear.
“I do.” His deep tone vibrated the air in her lungs, and she shuddered at the finality of the vow.
“And do you take Vlad as your lawfully wedded husband, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?” The officiant glanced at her with sympathy in his gaze, and Belladonna twisted toward the church entrance. She held her breath, hoping without hope that Gabriel would charge through those doors to rescue her, to defy his father for stealing his bride, but he didn’t come. She couldn’t hear him, nor did her magic sense him. He was gone. He wasn’t fighting for her.
“I do.” She looked back up at Vlad as an expression of triumph bled into his handsome features.
“Does anyone have the rings?” the officiant asked, but Belladonna shook her head. Gabriel had the wedding bands, and all she wore was the small engagement ring he’d placed on her finger.
“Right… well, by the power vested in me, I now?—”
“Wait.” Vlad cut the man off and seized Belladonna’s left hand. He ripped her engagement ring off and cast the simple diamond to the carpet. “That’s a cheap ring, and my wife will never wear something that mediocre.” He released her and then pulled a ring from his pinky finger. He then slid it onto her hand, and Belladonna froze when she saw what he’d given her. It was his signet ring, the one passed down from vampire leader to vampire leader. It was centuries old, only ever worn by the most powerful vampires to walk this earth… and now her.
Vlad twisted her fingers, surveying how the ring looked on her with appreciation, and then he nodded at the officiant to continue.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest said, conveniently forgetting the last half of the line, but a single movement of Vlad’s dark eyes seemed to jog his memory. “You may kiss the bride.”
Vlad smirked a dangerously handsome grin as Belladonna’s face paled, and then he leaned forward. She braced for the impact, wondering how angry it would make him if she turned her head at the last second, but his next movements answered her silent question. Vlad shifted as he closed the distance, and his lips brushed against her cheek. The kiss was feather-light and filled with respect, and the innocence seemed wildly out of character for the devil before her. She half expected his softness to be a joke, a way to embarrass her further, but there was no malice in his actions. He simply kissed her cheek and then pulled back, capturing her hand with his angel of death.
“May you all toast our newfound peace at the reception dinner,” Vlad said, keeping a firm yet gentle grip on her. “Raise your glasses to the success of this night.” He pinned Rowena with his stare, but to her mother’s credit, she did not wither under his cruelty. “I hope everyone enjoys their evening, but I’ll be taking my bride home now.”
“Bella, no!” Her mother lunged for them as Vlad guided her down the aisle to exit the sanctuary, but her new vampire husband offered the woman no chance to catch up. His men flocked to his lead, guarding his back as he loaded her into his sleek black car. Everything within her screamed for her to run, for her to flee before he separated her from the coven, but before she could so much as conjure a spell to deliver her to safety, Vlad locked her in the vehicle beside him as his driver sped off into the night. He didn’t speak as they departed the church, but he held her hand tight, his grip a warning. She could not escape. She would never escape. No witch had ever been inside his mansion before. Vlad hid its location with absolute secrecy, and if he was taking her there, he didn’t intend for her to leave. Her mom wouldn’t come for her. She wouldn’t know where to search, and suddenly the chaste kiss at the altar seemed like a curse. He’d performed for the crowd, but now she was alone with the angel of death.