Bound

I sank into the ornate chair, its velvet cushions enveloping me in an uncomfortable silence. The wait for my groom seemed interminable, the minutes ticking by with agonizing slowness. I fidgeted, my gloved hands twisting in my lap as I struggled to maintain a semblance of composure.

The grand hall, once a symbol of opulence and joy, now felt oppressive, its lavish decorations and sparkling chandeliers mocking me with their festive air. I felt like a pawn in a game of royal politics, a mere sacrifice to secure a tenuous peace between our kingdoms.

As I waited, my mind wandered to the stranger I had collided with earlier. His piercing purple eyes lingered in my memory, a haunting reminder of the unexpected spark that had flared between us. Who was he, and why did his gaze continue to unsettle me?

The sound of rustling fabric and muted murmurs signaled the arrival of my groom. I steeled myself, my heart heavy with foreboding, as I prepared to face the man I would be bound to for the rest of my life.

I pushed my head down not to see him, I didn't want to see his face. I could still rember what all the maids said

~~~~~~

I strained my ears to catch every whispered word as the maids gossiped in hushed tones. Their conversation sent shivers down my spine, and I felt a cold dread creeping up my veins.

"Vampire," one of the maids whispered, her voice barely audible over the rustling of fabrics. "He's a prince, the first crown royal prince, and he's as ruthless as they come."

My heart sank as they spoke of his love for war, of how he had declared war on our kingdom and decimated our army. The memory of our fallen soldiers, of the devastating loss we had suffered, still lingered in my mind like an open wound.

The maids' voices dropped to a whisper as they spoke of the prince's singular presence on the battlefield. "I heard he was the only one left standing," one of them said, her eyes wide with awe. "Me too," another maid chimed in, her southern accent thick and rich.

My mind reeled as the maids spoke of the king's desperate plea for mercy, of how the prince had demanded an exchange in return for sparing our kingdom. And then, the words that made my blood run cold: "He wants the princess."

I felt like I had been punched in the gut, my breath knocked out of me. The prince, the vampire, wanted me. He had demanded me as payment for sparing our kingdom, and my parents had agreed. I was nothing more than a pawn in their game of politics, a sacrifice to be made for the sake of our kingdom's survival.

"The Crown Prince of the Demon Kingdom has arrived," the announcer's voice boomed, echoing off the stone walls. The hall fell silent, as if the very mention of his name had sucked the air out of the room. I sensed a collective shiver run down the spines of the assembled guests, their faces pale and pinched with fear. It seemed I wasn't the only one who trembled at the thought of the prince's dark and foreboding presence.

He strode purposefully towards me, his long strides eating up the distance. Without so much as a nod to my father or any of the other dignitaries, he sat beside me, his piercing gaze sweeping the crowd. "Let the ceremony begin," the announcer declared, his voice a mere formality.

As the ritual progressed, I found myself lost in a vortex of despair. My mind recoiled at the thought of being bound to a vampire, a creature of the night, a monster. The dusty tomes in the library had spoken of their kind in hushed whispers, telling tales of bloodlust and death. Would I become his next victim? Would he drain the life from my veins and leave me to wither away?

My thoughts were a jumbled mess, but the sound of his voice cut through the chaos. "Don't be caught up in your head, Princess," he whispered, his breath a gentle caress against my ear. I lifted my gaze to meet his, and once again, I was ensnared by the beauty of his purple orbs. How could something so demonic, so evil, be so captivatingly beautiful?

"I...am not," I stammered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

He arched one of his thick, expressive brows, his gaze piercing as he hummed a low, husky sound. "Then why aren't you enjoying the ritual?" he asked, his voice a subtle blend of curiosity and command.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing in my chest as I struggled to find a suitable response. I didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to engage with this...this creature who seemed to hold my fate in his hands. "Nothing," I muttered, trying to sound nonchalant despite the turmoil brewing inside me.

He stared at me, his eyes seeming to bore into my very soul, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. The air around us seemed to thicken, heavy with tension, as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "I do not take no for an answer," he rasped, his voice sending a thrill of fear through me. "Unless there will be punishment."

I shuddered at his words, my skin prickling with goosebumps as he pulled back, his gaze never leaving mine. The room around us seemed to fade away, the music and laughter of the ritual distant and unimportant as the guests watched us with rapt attention, their eyes fixed on the unfolding drama between the bride and groom.