••{AZRAEL'S POV}••
My bed chamber is shrouded in darkness, save for the fire crackling in the hearth and the moonlight that spills through the tall, arched windows.
I sit in silence at the edge of the room, the stem of a crystal goblet balanced between my fingers, bloodwine swirling within.
She lies across the black satin sheets, her breaths soft and steady. I've been watching her chest rise and fall for hours. Every beat of her heart reaches me—too quick at first, frantic even in unconsciousness, then slowing, weary, surrendering at last to sleep.
I tell myself I shouldn't linger here. That there are matters awaiting me outside these walls, an empire demanding its ruler.
And yet, I refuse to leave her side.
Not when the scent of her blood lingers deep inside my head. Not when the memory of her screams still echo inside my skull.
Her beautiful face is pale against the pillows. Her tears have carved lines across her cheeks that I can still see even now. And though I've trained myself against these feeble emotions, I still feel it.
Regret.
For her brother I cast aside with a single gesture. For her sister who clung to her hand until the last breath of hope. And most of all, for the princess who looks at me not as a man, but as a monster.
I shouldn't have taken her this way. But there's no other choice. Not if I want her safe. Not if I want her alive.
I should feel nothing. Yet I do.
I hate that I do.
But still, I will never undo what has already been done. Her anger, her grief, her hatred… better she live with those than die ignorant of what she truly is. I'll protect her in the only way I know how, though she might never understand it.
Not yet at least.
Her breathing shifts. A faint catch, a sharp inhale.
The steady rhythm of her heart trembles and quickens.
She's waking.
I lift the goblet, draining the last of the bloodwine. The shadows stretch long across the room as I lean back into the chair, silent and waiting as her eyes begin to open.
••{RHIANNON'S POV}••
The first thing I feel is heat. A fire's warmth flickers against my skin, but it doesn't belong to Astragarde.
My eyes fly open.
I'm not in the cathedral. I'm not anywhere I know. Black walls arch above me, vast and cold, and I lie tangled in sheets as dark as midnight. My wedding gown still clings to me. Torn, tattered, stained all over with blood.
I panic, instantly sitting upright, my breath hitching, my hands clawing at the chains that are no longer there. My heart pounds so violently I swear it will tear from my chest.
"Finally…" a deep voice cuts through the silence. "…you're awake."
I turn toward the sound.
In the corner, half-hidden in the shadows, he sits with the stillness of a predator. His golden eyes catch the firelight as if they burn from within.
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. My voice breaks out anyway, hoarse and trembling.
"You…" My voice cracks as I whisper, "What is this place? Where are we?"
He doesn't move. His silhouette lounges in the shadows as if he has all the time in the world.
"You're in my castle," he says calmly. "In the kingdom of Darkholme."
His words rattle my bones. I shake my head furiously. "No, no, no. This isn't real. This can't be happening. This is just a bad dream and I'm going to wake up. This is all a dream—"
"None of this is a dream." His voice cuts through mine, sharper now.
Slowly, he rises to his feet and begins walking toward me. The moment he steps into the moonlight, I freeze.
His skin is pale and flawless like porcelain, but it has a faint, ethereal glow. His blood-red hair glints like flames in the light, falling in waves against his broad shoulders.
I have seen monsters before, or so I thought. But this one is different.
He's beautiful.
So beautiful it's terrifying.
••{AZRAEL'S POV}••
Her eyes widen as I emerge from the dark. The way she stares at me, I have seen it a thousand times before. The look mortals give a creature they believe will devour them.
To her, I am no man.
Only a monster.
I place a hand over my chest, inclining my head. "Princess Rhiannon Aurelian of Astragarde, allow me to introduce myself. I am Azrael Bloodbourne, ruler of Darkholme and the Empire of Night."
Her gasp rings through the chamber. "You're the vampire emperor?"
I give her a single nod. "Yes."
Crossing the distance between us, I sit beside her on the edge of the bed. She instantly shrinks away as if a few inches could shield her from me.
"So—so you're emperor of the vampires," she stammers. "What do you want from me? Why did you abduct me from my home?"
"Because you're special."
Her eyes narrow. "You already said that. Back in Astragarde you told me you'd been searching for me for centuries, tracing royal bloodlines, scouring kingdoms. Why?"
I lean closer, cupping her face in my hand. My thumb brushes against her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, the shiver that betrays her even now.
I can hear the sound of her rapid heartbeat. Her reaction to how close we are at the moment.
"Answer me," she whispers, her lips trembling against mine. "Why?"
I brush her hair aside, letting my fingers graze her neck. Her pulse beats wildly against my palm.
"Because of what's inside you."
Her brows draw together.
I wrap my hand around her throat, not enough to choke but to remind her who she now belongs to. Staring into those mesmerizing blue eyes, I whisper;
"Because of your blood… and what it will make of me."