Married To The Mad Vampire Lord novel Chapter 4

Chapter 4: End Of The Dreadful Wedding

This was the first time in history that vampires and humans were in the same space without being at each other's throats. However, the lack of activities and music heightened her nervousness to an excessive degree. A shiver ran down her spine as she walked down between the two groups, her knees feeling weak, barely holding her up.

She kept her head down as she walked and folded her arms over her stomach as if to shield herself from the eyes that followed her down the long aisle that seemed to stretch on forever. The air felt too thick, pressing down on her like a weight, and a thousand unseen eyes seemed to be watching, judging her. She couldn't breathe. She had to get out. Now. She couldn't do this. She didn't want to shoulder the weight of everyone and her family. She would have to disappoint them again.

The veil over her face blurred everything, but she knew where she was headed.

To him. And she did not want to.

The mad vampire was standing motionless at the end of the aisle, waiting.

Belle wanted to turn and run far away from the hall, but it was too late. She was standing right before her groom, and the moment she made the attempt to turn and run, she tripped over the front hem of her skirt and went falling. Her stomach lurched as she thought she would fall and embarrass herself, but her body never met the unforgiving ground as his arm snaked around her waist, firm and strong, stopping her fall.

The press of his palm against her waist sent heat bleeding through the layers of her dress, searing through the cold of the hall. She sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn't supposed to be warm. Vampires were never warm; they were cold creatures inside and out.

The veil over her face shifted, slipping just enough for her to see half of his face that loomed over hers, and her breath caught in her throat. The hall seemed to dim for a moment as her eyes met the darkest eyes she'd ever seen. They were so dark it was like staring into an abyss of darkness with no end. His eyes didn't even reflect the light. Vampires' eyes were known to be blood red—his weren't. And not only were his eyes black, but his hair was also deep blue and was swept smoothly on his head as he frowned down at her.

But he wasn't looking at her. Not really. His gaze was locked above her brow, staring where the veil had moved. Staring hard without letting go, even though he had stopped her from embarrassing herself by falling. From his face, he was nothing like the rumors had said. He was handsome. Though the rumors had not called his appearance hideous, she had expected him to be just that and had dreaded looking into his red eyes.

She was terrified of vampires, as they had traumatized her in her childhood, and their red eyes had become her worst nightmare. They were the reason she became so timid and shy about her appearance. She had a scar above her brow that was caused by a vampire, and many considered it ugly.

She had been happy to have a veil over her face for two reasons: to hide the scar and to prevent herself from having to see her groom's red eyes. But now that she saw that he didn't have red eyes nor cold hands, she felt a momentary relief wash over her. He also smelled quite nice.

She tried to straighten herself, but his grip remained firm around her waist, and his body was slightly bent forward while hers was bent backward, his fingers spanning her waist as though measuring something unseen. He didn't blink. Didn't make any attempt to let go. What was wrong with him?

A shiver coiled down her spine. They said he was mad. Though he didn't seem like a madman, no normal man would hold her like this while everyone was watching and waiting impatiently for the dreadful wedding to be over with. It was obvious the humans couldn't wait for the vampires to leave their lands and the vampires could also not wait to get the hell out of there.

From the side of her eye, she saw movement. It was a man from the vampire side. He walked up to them and tapped her groom's shoulder, then whispered sternly into his ear before he let her go. Not quite really—he didn't let her go because he did something that surprised her.

He released her waist and swiftly reached out to fix her veil that had shifted, wordlessly and attentively. Then his large, unusually warm hand found her gloved one and gripped it in a hold she could only think was possessive for a man who did not know her. She felt an unwanted warmth in her stomach.

Through her veiled face, she saw his shoulders were wide, his chest broad, and the dim light of the hall touched his deep blue hair with gold. His face was as hard as his body, but his eyes were what set him apart from his kind and even the humans, because she'd never seen a human with such eyes before. He had just a small amount of white in them, and the dark orb was large.

When they sat on a sofa set for the ceremony, she realized her groom was still holding her hand, and his thumb traced the pattern of stitching on the back of her glove. Over and over, his thumb moved—hot, quick patterns, the pressure pulsing heat through her limbs. She wondered if the man marrying them or her father, who sat next to them, noticed her hand was on her groom's lap, because they both seemed to be staring at them strangely. She knew if this veil wasn't covering her face, she would have been embarrassed.

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