The Vampire King's Hybrid Mate

Chapter 8 - Union

I could not get a wink of sleep all night. My heart was racing, and my head was pounding with nervousness and anxiety. I was completely restless, and finally, getting tired of lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, I climbed out. There were a thousand questions in my head. What was I going to wear? What kind of rituals did revenants follow in their weddings? Would I have to kiss him in front of everyone?

My stomach flipped, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks. That would be so awkward. But I'd be lying if I said I did not feel a slight excitement at the thought of it. After all, I had spent years dreaming about kissing him. Would it finally come true, at an altar? Would his lips feel as good as they felt in my dreams? Or would they be a disappointment? No, who was I kidding? I knew they would most probably taste bet--

There was a gentle knock on my door, that pulled me out of my shameful trail of thoughts. My eyes widened slightly when I realized what I had been thinking about. What is wrong with me?

I didn't have to ask to know who was outside. I knew it was Irene. I could feel her nervousness all the way inside the room. Wow, I really did leave an impression on her.

I opened the door, offering her a small smile.

"Miss King, I--"

"Please call me Imara," I said, my tone gentle. "I am so sorry for the way I behaved with you earlier. I was annoyed, and pissed off, and I just wanted to get out of here."

"Please don't apologize, my Queen," she replied, shaking her head.

"I prefer Imara," I said again, smiling at her. "Come on in." I moved aside to give her space, and she walked in. I noticed she was carrying an outfit bag, and another smaller one. "What are these?" I asked as I closed the door.

"Your dress," she lay the bigger bag on the bed, "and your jewellery and make-up for today." She placed down the other one as well.

"Oh." I raised my eyebrows, placing my hands on my waist. "I hope it fits."

"Trust me it will," she remarked, a cheeky smile on her face. She undid the zipper, and pulled the dress out of the bag, before tossing the bag away.

"Woah," I whispered, staring at the dress in awe as she held it up for me to see. I stepped closer to it, tracing my fingers over the glittering black fabric. It was soft and silky, with a sweetheart neckline and short, off-shoulder sleeves. It instantly reminded me of Belle's dress, from Beauty and the Beast, except it was dark, and much sexier. It looked heavy, as well as simple and elegant, and I wondered who chose it. "Why black?" I asked, unable to take my eyes off of it.

"It's a tradition," Irene replied. "But Lord Draco said that if you'd want, we could arrange a white one too."

"No," I said instantly. "This is perfect. Who chose this?" I finally glanced at her, to catch the smile on her face, and the happiness in her eyes.

"Lord Draco did. He personally went to select it for you."

I felt my heart give a thump. Now that I looked at it, I noticed the slit in the skirt, that would reveal my leg as I'd walk, as well as how deep the back was. The dress would expose just the right amount of skin, that would make me look extremely appealing, but not cheap. The man did know his dresses, which made me wonder how many women he had seen in them. The thought sparked a certain jealousy, one I had to wave off before it would ruin my mood and make me question my senses.

"Great," I muttered, clearing my throat as I ran a hand through my hair. "Is there anyone who could help me get dressed? I can never do my hair myself. My... My mother used to do them for me."

My heart clenched slightly.

When, and how, did it come to this? I was getting married, and my Mom and Papa were not going to be there to bless me. My best friend, Elisha, and Rayon, the guy I loved like a brother; neither of them were present to reassure me, or to cheer me up. Uncle Vik wasn't there to tell me how I'd be okay at the end, and Aunt Chloe wasn't going to tell me that she'd miss me. A part of me was still wondering if all this was even real, or just a prolonged nightmare that my brain wasn't letting me wake up from.

"Imara?" I felt Irene touch my hand, and I snapped out of my thoughts. She was looking at me with concern, her brown eyes holding a hint of worry. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, taking a deep breath. "I just miss my family."

She placed the dress on the bed, and stepped closer to me, taking both my hands. "You know you can talk to him about it. He would postpone it if you'd ask him to. You don't have to get married until your family gets here."

Gets here? What lie have they been told?

"No," I said, forcing a smile. "Getting married now is my decision. There's no need to delay it." The sooner I become Queen, the sooner we can start searching for my pack. It had to be done as soon as possible.

"Alright," she nodded in understanding, smiling back at me. "But don't worry about your hair, or your make-up. I'll take care of everything. All you need to do, is sit there and watch me work my magic."

I chuckled, nodding. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, my Queen," she gave a little bow, before laughing.

- - - -

Irene was not joking when she said she'd work her magic. Because the woman that was staring back at me through the mirror, was someone far prettier than me. My hair was braided and curled into a beautiful updo, with loose strands framing my face delicately. My eyes were covered in black, smokey eye shadow, glittering and classic. My lips were a gentle nude shade, my cheekbones enhanced with contouring, blush, and highlight. And the dress, it looked far better than what I had imagined.

It fit me like a glove, hugging my every curve before flowing freely to the ground. The dress tailed far behind me, and according to Irene, it was so that my bridesmaids could hold it up as I walked down the aisle. I had six bridesmaids, none of whom I knew, which was quite a bummer. Irene was the maid-of-honor, and I was slightly worried about how Elisha would react when I'd tell her about it.

Yeah, I was going to get murdered. They weren't even going to find my body.

"And lastly, jewellery," Irene muttered, picking up the boxes from the bed. She placed them down on the dressing table, before opening the one with the earrings. They were long, yet subtle, with single hanging stones that dazzled under the light. She helped me put them on, before opening the box of the necklace.

My heart skipped a beat as she picked the delicate necklace up, and gently placed it around my neck. It was absolutely exquisite, even more so than the dress. Completely studded with diamonds, it had a small, black dove hanging at its base. Warmth spread in my chest, and I carefully traced my fingers over it, a small smile stretching across my lips.

There was a knock on the door, and I quickly glanced at it, hoping it would be him. But it wasn't, and when the odd disappointment kicked in, I found myself frowning. Why was I waiting for him?

Irene spoke to Eros without opening the door, a conversation that I completely missed due to my louder thoughts, and then turned to me.

"It's time," she said, and as if on cue, I heard the violins playing downstairs.

My stomach filled with butterflies, and I took a deep breath, before standing up from my seat. I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror, before letting out a heavy sigh.

- - - -

"So what do I have to do?" I whispered to Irene, as we stood outside the double doors of the hall.

"Choose a bouquet," she replied, chuckling. "Black, red or white?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. All three signify different things."

"And what are those?"

"If you choose black, it means a union that will last forever, beyond time, into oblivion. It will last as long as darkness exists, and it will be unbreakable and all-consuming."

My heart skipped a beat.

"What... What about the others?"

"The red one signifies love. Beauty and happiness, as well as s****l yearning. It's a promise that your heart will always belong to your groom, never to think of another, longing only for him alone."

"Hmm. What about white?"

"White is trust. The promise to care about your partner, whether or not the two of you are together. In times of happiness, sadness, peace or distress. It's a vow to always be there for him, and prioritize him over everyone else. To care about his feelings, his thoughts and his sentiments."

"Which one would you choose?" I asked softly.

"I chose all three," she replied, smiling. "Carried the three together."

I bit my lip, my heart oddly drawn to black. An all consuming, and eternal union. But would our marriage last forever? No, it wouldn't. That was the condition I married him on.

What about red? I did feel attracted to him, and I was certain I'd never feel this way towards anyone else. I wasn't sure of my heart, but my body wanted only him. But would that give him a wrong hint? He'd think I was ready, when I wasn't.

White. White seemed too pure for us. Two lost, dark souls, marrying for their own selfish reasons. And did I care about him? Did his feelings or sentiments matter to me? I wasn't sure. Did my feelings matter to him? Clearly, not so much.

I took a deep breath, before taking a bouquet from her hands, making her grin at me.

DRACO

I waited for her at the altar, my nerves kicking in for the first time in years. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to hold myself back when I'd see her in that dress. She would look so perfect, just like my Queen should be. And then she'd finally become mine, just like she was supposed to be. Her condition was worrying, but I knew I would be able to win her heart in this time. Unless of course, we'd find her pack too soon. But from the way things were looking, it would take time, and a selfish part of me was glad for it. She would get to know me, she would be able to recognize and accept the attraction she felt towards me. She would be able to admit, at least to herself, that she wanted me just as much as I wanted her.

After all, we were mates. We were destined to be together.

The door to the hall opened, and my head turned too fast in its direction. When she entered, my breath caught in my throat.

She was my Nyx, and I was her Erebus. Because clad in that black dress that flaunted her curves, she looked like the Goddess of Night, a personification of beauty and power. She was my Persephone, and I her Hades, who had stolen her away from the rest of the world, to make her his Queen.

As she slowly walked closer, I glanced down at the flowers in her hands. My eyes widened, and I felt a tingling in my stomach.

She was holding a bouquet of vibrant, blood-red roses; the shade reminding me of her cheeks every time I touched her. All I wanted in that moment, was to rush to her, and rip that black material off of her with my bare hands. I wanted to feel every inch of her skin, until she'd be breathless, and the loud racing of her heart would echo in my ears. I wanted to grab a fistful of her silky blonde hair, and press my lips against hers, never to let go again.

She cleared her throat, and I realized that she had already reached the altar. She was staring up at me, her gaze filled with embarrassment, as if she knew what I had been thinking.

IMARA

The second I entered the hall, all heads turned to me, and I felt scrutinized under the hundred, heated stares. But the one I could feel burning my skin, the one that made me want to cower away and hide in a corner, was his. I could sense the desire he had for me without even meeting his gaze. It was rippling off of him in waves, and I took a deep breath to calm my pounding heart. My skin was thoroughly laced in goosebumps, and all of a sudden, he appeared in front of me, and pulled me to himself.

A small gasp left my lips as he ripped my dress off. Sparks of electricity coursed through me at his touch, as he grabbed a fistful of my hair, and pressed his lips against mine. It was full of want and passion, the kind that made my knees weak, the kind that made me want to collapse in his arms.

And then all of a sudden, he was back at the altar, and my dress was intact on my body.

I blinked, taken aback as I looked around at the revenants, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I realized I was at the altar already, and when I looked up at him, his eyes were dark with lust, slowly turning purple, and then red. My cheeks flushed, and I cleared my throat, that brought him out of his trance. He looked slightly confused, as if he had been jolted awake from a consuming, vivid dream. Did both of us have the same vision? I lowered my gaze in shame and embarrassment.

He extended his hand for me, and I glanced at it, contemplating whether to pretend I had not seen it. But among so many witnesses, any wrong move would prove risky. My trembling hand touched his, and he gently helped me up the two steps, not letting go even after I stood in front of him. There was an odd warmth spreading in my body, one I had never felt before.

"In the centuries I have spent in this world, never before have I lain my eyes on something so beautiful. You look divine, my Little Dove." His voice was a soft, gentle whisper, the kind that makes you curl your toes, and smile from ear to ear.

I met his gaze, the look on his face making my heart skip a beat.

"Thank... Thank you," I said softly, offering him a small smile.

"I see you chose the red ones," he added in a lower, teasing tone, as his eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Don't get any ideas," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "The other two were far too sentimental. It was disgusting."

He chuckled, his thumb gently caressing my hand. "So you don't believe in emotions, then? Or it's just that when it comes to me, your physical desires take over your mind and shut down your ability to think?"

My cheeks heated up. "Weddings are supposed to be holy, so shut up and pay attention to what the... Priestess? Do we call her a Priestess?"

"Yes." He laughed.

"Listen to the Priestess."

"I'm afraid I can't," he clicked his tongue, leaning in to my ear. "Your heart beat won't let me listen to anything else, Love. I'm afraid it's rather... distracting."

I leaned away, withholding the urge to push him off by the face, and gave him a hard glare. He seemed amused by my anger, but it did make him stand straight again, where he was not invading my personal space. After a few moments of continuing to speak in a foreign language, the Priestess turned to him.

"Do you, King Draco Kalev, leader and Lord of the Midnight Clan, take Imara Ryder, we--"

"Imara King-Ryder," Draco corrected before I could.

"My apologies. Do you, King Draco Kalev, take Miss Imara King-Ryder, as your Queen, and your wife, for now, and until eternity?"

He gazed at me, a small smile on his lips. "I do."

"Do you, Miss Imara King-Ryder, member of the Sawtooth Wolves pack, and a Fallen of King Draco Kalev, take him, as your King and your husband, for now and until eternity?"

Until eternity? Absolutely not.

"I do."

The Priestess took the bouquet from my hands, plucked out a few petals, and sprinkled them onto our heads, before handing it back to me. "You may now mark your Bride, my King."

My eyes widened and I glanced at Draco, just as the hall broke into cheers and claps. Loud, romantic tunes started to play in the background, as the choir began to sing, while everyone stared at us with hope and admiration.

Draco stepped closer to me, his arm wrapping firmly around my waist, to hold me in place. My heart hammered in my chest, as I felt the urge to scream, but my voice seemed to vanish within me. He leaned in, and I squeezed my eyes shut, burying my nails into the bouquet.

- - - - - -