Page 27 of A Vow of Blood and Tears

“The other brides did not go willingly to the altar, knowing what their lives would become, so I chose the easiest path—keeping you blind to what was to come. Is it not better to bring a lamb to slaughter happy and blindfolded?”

My lips twisted as I took a step back from her.I hope that’s simply a poorly-chosen metaphor.

A faint wince crossed her face. “Perhaps that was not quite how I meant to put it… what Idomean to say is, your fate was sealed from the moment we entered Argent. There is nowhere to run now. You cannot escape the keep. I didn’t want you attempting to flee while in Thornvale, but now that we’re here… well, this wedding will involve blood. It will cause you some pain, because we believe that the bond is all the sweeter later for enduring that slight sting. You will emerge unharmed, and you will be expected to allow Lord Bane to feed from you once the bond is made. You seem to be a bright girl, Cirrien; I’m sure you’ve put much of this together yourself.”

Wyn reached out and touched one of my limp hands.

“All you must do is follow our cues,” she told me. “I’ve organized this wedding down to the last ancestors’-blessed petal; everything is in place. But remember that you must go through with it, and you may as well do so with dignity. My kind will not allow any other outcome than success.”

I nodded, a strange sort of numbness that I’d never felt before welling up inside me. Even during the worst disappointments of my life—being rejected from becoming a Silver Sister, being rejected as a candidate for the Library—I had never felt anything quite like this.

I understand, I signed, my fingers seeming to work independently of my brain.

Wyn gave me a bracing smile.

“Well, come now!” she chirped. “The ceremony will be held in the Bloodgarden, of course. Fortunately we’ve earned a little extra time, as we didn’t need to paint a more presentable face on you, but these vows must be made before midnight.”

She took the bandage from my hands before I could pull away, and I looked down, seeing that the puncture mark had vanished, leaving smooth pink skin behind.

Is this the work of a bloodwitch?I signed, but expected no answer, and got none, only a slightly bewildered look from Lissa.

Wyn held the door open. “After you, dear. The vampires of the legion would surely like a good ogle at their new Lady before the wedding.”

It occurred to me that she had deliberately shunted me through to the castle in the quickest route to my chambers, where there were only human maids, specifically so I wouldn’t see that I was surrounded by vampires on all sides.

For the first time in my life, I was in a place where humans were the minority. Not only that, but I had very little clear idea of vampire customs. Fraternization with the enemy was forbidden in the Cathedral.

Wyn had been very cavalier in harvesting my blood whenever she pleased. Despite the new laws about vampires requiring direct consent in order to drink from humans, I no longer lived in a world where those human laws could be counted on. Would I be expected to bleed for any vampire who asked?

Or would being Bane’s wife, under his aegis, protect me from such a thing?

I kept my questions to myself, to be put to paper another time, and followed Wyn back into the candlelit halls of the keep.

This time she led me in another direction, down a set of stairs, and the hall abruptly opened onto a wide hall, lit with crystalline chandeliers overhead and gold sconces on the walls.The grandeur was astonishing, when the outside of the castle appeared so defensive and utilitarian, especially after a lifetime of thinking the inside of the Silver Cathedral qualified as grand.

The Cathedral did not hold a candle to this keep, with its black marble floors polished so smooth it appeared we walked on a pool of dark water, or the delicate stonework buttressing the high ceiling. A faint, sweet scent hung in the air, enticing my nose.

And thepeople… or the vampires, as they really were.

Besides the maids, I picked out only one or two humans. The rest were clearly vampires, with their flawless skin, the slit pupils in faintly-glowing eyes, the incisors hidden behind plush lips.

Every vampire but Wyn was wearing armor, each armed to the teeth, and most of them maintained their posts as we passed. I felt their eyes moving over me, and once or twice saw nostrils flare as they caught my scent.

My skin prickled, especially when one particularly burly vampire, his blond hair pulled back in a horsetail to show off cut cheekbones and a chiseled mouth, licked his lips, his blue eyes glued to my exposed throat.

He was the kind of vampire the books were written about. The handsome knight in armor, eternally perfect. His mouth was formed in undeath to draw the eye, to make one want to melt into his arms and tip the head back just so…

And I wanted nothing to do with it. I couldn’t fathom such a thing.

My husband was something else, something far beyond this.

Something so different that even the vampires themselves considered his existence to be a sacrifice.

Not a vampire… but a monster.

I ran through the wyrd-runes in my head again, my favorite method of maintaining my composure, and followed Wyn up apair of wide, scrolling stairs, my white dress trailing behind me like a veil.

She brought me to an unassuming door, as thick and well-defended as the rest, and opened it into a loggia surrounding a courtyard. I knew the moment I stepped foot into the Bloodgarden, the scent that had been haunting me all throughout the keep finally blooming.

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