Page 11 of Midnight Crown (Marked by Blood 2)

When the heat from the sunlight hit me, I smiled. There was something beautiful about the room, with its ancient pews currently filled with a host of vampires and one aniccipere. I breathed in the musky scent, peering behind the witnesses to whoever’s wedding was taking place. Neither of the participants had arrived yet. Old books of worship were stacked dustily against an old bookshelf at the back of the room. At the front, an arch had been erected, entwined with roses in full bloom.

So many weddings would happen, but none were being celebrated like Sebastian’s and my nuptials. Seeing the bride emerge from the double doors at the back of the chapel in a dress of black only reminded me of my fate.

Our wedding would be followed by the shadow kissed ceremony, where I would become a vampire. There were weddings every day leading up to the holiday. Which surprised me, considering how lawless and uncommitted they could be. Marriage, I’d learned, was important to them. According to the vampires, divorce wasn’t a thing here as it went against everything the goddess Vaneria believed.

An aniccipere stared at me from the crowd, his beady eyes hungry with desire. I saw very few of them in the castle. I tilted my head, and the creature glowered back, his lipless mouth curling into an unnerving smile. His nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath, licking his mouth as if he could somehow taste my soul. I shuddered, moving away from the doorway, and pressed my back against the stones of the wall. Jagged edges dug into my hips and lower back.

Out of all the vampires, the aniccipere were the worst. The half-demon, half-mortal creatures didn’t drink the blood of their victims. Instead, they sucked out their souls, destroying the body in a painful, merciless feeding.

I turned to face the long corridor, feeling the uneven ground under my shoes. Then I saw him. Hamza’s soulless eyes found mine. The emptiness and lack of light behind them sent a shiver down my spine. He licked his lips, grooming his dark beard with two fingers. He was conventionally handsome, especially when in his suits. It only made him more dangerous. People were drawn to him like moths to a flame. We had a word for people like him in Baldoria: psychopaths.

I felt nothing from his emotions when he approached me. The same as I’d felt when he’d brought me to the auction before Sebastian got me out. I pulled back my empath gifts, heightened by my being a sorceress.

“Beautiful Seraphina.” He stopped before me, undressing me with his green eyes. “You are delicious in that dress.” He traced a finger over my clavicle, and I shoved him away.

“I could have you killed,” I threatened, attempting to stand tall despite him being a foot and a half taller than me.

His lip curved at one side. “Youdohave all the power now,” he said, his voice charging with realization, and challenge flashed in his gaze. “As I’m sure you recall, I enjoy the fight.”

“Then I’ll be sure not to give you one.” I pushed past him, but he grabbed me by the wrist, his icy fingers tearing me back. A spark of desire pierced through my barrier.

He needed to feel something. I could feel the want emanating from him in thick waves, enough to emotionally drown a person, and I was that something. I felt how he did when he saw me. Forbidden and powerful. He knew he couldn’t have me, and the danger he’d be in if he tried. I was the one who’d gotten away, and since the auction, I was all he thought of. His feelings took a form of their own, and for a second, I was sure he would snap and force me to be his right here.

My heart palpitated, my mouth drying as I looked at him, ready to use my powers if he tried. I was not immortal yet, but there was a reason the vampires feared and coveted us. Our magic could disarm them. I only wished mine was stronger.

“I’m late for a meeting with my father,” I said, annoyed at the tremble threading through my words. “He won’t appreciate my being late.”

He shoved me back against the wall, scraping my shoulder against a painting. He pressed his hard dick against my hip as he shoved his mouth against my earlobe. “I could take you still. I doubt the king would kill me, even if I fuck his daughter.”

“You’re not that important.”

He grinned against my skin, his eyelashes whispering over my temple. “You’d be surprised.” He paused. “I want you, and I will have you.”

I was tired of being made to feel helpless against them. Like these creatures could take whatever they wanted with no repercussions. “I’ll have you killed for this.”

A laugh tinkered from his mouth, spreading goosebumps over the back of my neck. “Unlikely, but just in case, maybe I should kill you after. This castle is full of people who would do anything for a taste of your blood,” he hissed against my ear. “The list of suspects would be too long.”

Darkness uncoiled from my center, filling me up as if it had been there all along, dormant and waiting. His free hand reached my throat, his touch so soft I could mistake it for that of a lover. I shouldn’t have walked down here alone, but I’d heard Erianna was somewhere around here.

His grip tightened, his nails digging into my skin, blocking the air from reaching my lips. A low growl sounded as he pressed against me, his dick pulsing. His hot breath tickled against my temple, and my stomach churned, my chest tightening. Instinct begged to grapple with his fingers against my throat, but logic swayed me the other way. Brute strength would do nothing against a vampire, but I could hurt him. If I could get enough power.

Closing my eyes, finding solace in the blackness, panic pressed against the walls I’d built up as he unzipped his pants. Magic pricked my fingers, purring with darkness and licking through my veins like flames. His grip loosened as he struggled to pull up the skirt of the dress, tearing it instead. I sucked in a deep breath, filling my lungs with oxygen, looking down at his dick through blurry eyes. He pushed forward, shredding the fabric of my clothes until they were tattered at my feet.

“Don’t stop,” I begged, hoping the distraction would stall him for a few seconds. Instead, my voice came out croaky, but genuine.

Surprise flashed over his expression, lines forming on his forehead. His hand trembled on my thigh, the corner of his eye twitching as he moved back an inch to look at me.

My power begged to be released. “You wanted this, so don’t stop now,” I said, my tone breaking in places. Then, glaring down at his cock, I grabbed it in my fist, and he jolted under my touch. “Now burn, you sick fuck.”

Every ounce of magic in my body released into my bloodstream, traveling from my fingers and into his genitals, erupting a throaty scream from Hamza. He tried to push me off, but the magic kept my hand rooted, sending scorching heat into his dick.

The stench of burning flesh hit my nostrils, and I breathed it in, delighting in all the senses; the blazing heat of the touch, watching him sizzle and melt as shock waves moved through him with nowhere to go, hearing his screams bring people pouring into the corridor. I could almost taste his fear as his emotions muddied, slowing as his skin melted from his muscles, liquifying, bubbling down to his bones. Finally, the skin under my touch melted away, and I finally let go.

His body thumped back, hitting the stone, sending a loud crack echoing against the wall as his head split open and blood poured out. I didn’t take my eyes from him until his final breath. I enjoyed seeing him suffer, relishing in his torture. He was gonevermin wiped from this world, because I willed it so.

I’d been led to believe they were the powerful ones, to be feared, but I realized now it was me. Heat crept through my body, setting my nerves on fire when icy hands touched my shoulders, making me jump back. Then, shaking my head, I suddenly noticed everyone staring.

Shock rippled through me as muscle and skin regrew around his bones, his eyes regenerated, and his body returned to life. I let out a sharp breath, pain screeching through the adrenaline numbing me. Lifting my hands, I saw the large welts and blisters. I’d not only burned him, but my hands, too.

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