Blood Ritual

Arriving at the abbey, Aleksander didn't even help Elyss off the carriage and went off towards the entrance by himself. The servants scurried over to help his bride off and then escorted her to stand beside the vampire prince.

The abbey's belled tolled, and the giant doors opened to let the bride and the groom walk to the altar. Aleksander's bride didn't move even when the pipe organs started to play the wedding processional. She just stood there like a block of frozen ice.

Aleksander was extremely pissed off now, as he felt the pressure of the masked vampires that turned to watch him walk down the aisle. Trying to save the last of his dignity, he grasped his bride's wrist and the two of them proceeded towards the altar.

Compared to his half-brother's wedding the other year, there were only perhaps a few that spectated his wedding. But what shocked the bastard prince the most was that at the front pews, there stood his father, his face a pompous painting.

He noted that the crazy king's wife was beside him, and the rest of the nobilities of the vampire hierarchy was there too. Did his father make sure that the other nobles were there to see his bastard son's humiliating union with a slave? He was truly a dirty old scumbag of a father if that was the case.

As the two reached the front pews, Aleksander could hear the whispers of the nobles and he couldn't help but grip Elys' arm tighter. A tiny whimper escaped his bride's mouth, and Aleksander scowled even more.

His father could be heard snickering at the far end of the right-wing pews, and Aleksander could only close his eyes in disgrace. He mentally cursed everyone laughing at him right now, and the prince vowed revenge when the time would come that he'd have the power he needed to wipe them out.

But right at this moment, he was only one against all. Even if he was more powerful than most of the vampires in the church, he wouldn't stand a chance with everyone else against him.

Not that he was thinking of raising a coup as of the moment – perhaps when he finds strong allies. Right now, he would just have to bite the bullet and be patient. There was bound to be a silver lining after the clouds of the recent storms in his life.

Hopefully.

The processional song halted when the two were in front of the altar, and the presiding priest of the vampires raised his arms as if to welcome them. He gave out quite a lengthy speech, the presiding priest's words fell into deaf ears as Aleksander's mind raced with only hatred for the people spectating his so-called wedding of the century.

"We are gathered here today, to witness the union between the King Raxus Ardorlean's son, Prince Aleksander Ardorlean with his lovely bride - " the priest paused and then peeked over a piece of paper before he continued, "a humble servant of the vampire kingdom."

Aleksander scoffed at the euphemism they had scripted. There weren't any words they could find to hide the fact that his bride was nothing but a slave. He was coerced to be doomed forever if she stays as his wife, and everyone inside the abbey knew it.

It was an obvious underhanded power play that his father made to stop him from getting ideas he would have a chance at the crown.

Aleksander wanted to spit at him. The crazy king should have just let him be. He didn't think of the crown at all before. He just wanted to at least get by with living comfortably away from the dangerous eyes of the other nobles.

But now that he was at the altar and experiencing the worst kind of humiliation, he almost certainly entertained the idea. How great would it be if he had the power the crown would give him? With just his word, he could certainly get rid of all his enemies.

It was going to be a bloody massacre if he was going to have it his way. Sadly, that wasn't going to be the case. He glanced through the corners of his eyes at the woman that sat beside him.

Was there even anything good that he could make use of her? Perhaps he could use her as a pawn? That could be an option far better than to kill her immediately. At the very least it wouldn't look suspicious if she died by the hands of other vampires.

A smile escaped Aleksander's lips and the bastard prince looked up to the priest as he started to say the final words and blessings. A blood ritual was inevitable as the ceremony was reaching its end.

The priest raised a bowl and a knife above his head, and two acolytes emerged from the corners. The final part of the ceremony – an exchanging of blood to signify their union. Aleksander and his bride were assisted, their arms put in front of them bare.

The acolytes held their arms as the priest came down from his pulpit. He brought the blade towards Aleksander's wrist first. With a swift movement, the bastard prince's skin was carved in a swirling ancient symbol.

Aleksander could feel the sting of the blade on his arm, but the burn that the symbol left was the worst. His blood dripped on to the crystal bowl held by the priest, and when he was satisfied, he went to the bride and did the same.

His bride flinched, jerking her arm out of reflex. Aleksander could only scoff as the acolyte that held her arm struggled to keep her still. What was that acolyte doing? Was his bride stronger than an actual vampire to make him struggle like so?

The priest mixed their blood together, with incantations that were uttered in a low whisper that only the keenest of vampire senses could hear.

"Let it be known, that the mixing of man and woman's blood signifies their conjugal union," the priest said, "Their bond shall be stronger with this, and death will the only thing that shall be able to end that bond."

Aleksander smiled despite the burns on his arm. Death wouldn't be the end for him, but only the beginning - in the very least not his death if he had it his way.