Filed to story: The Vampire Prince’s Bride
It was easy to tell where the vampire town ended and the human village began, and not just because the smell of their blood became infinitely stronger with each step I took. In the village, the houses were shabbier, the cobblestones on the streets were uneven and unturned, and everything in general was much more drab.
I pulled on my hood and stopped in the path, looking around. Why had I wanted to come here at all? Being here-seeing the way the human blood slaves lived-it was depressing.
But then a song started playing in the distance-a popular song I remembered from before being brought to the Vale. People hooted and hollered-it sounded like they were having fun.
I wanted to join them.
I wanted to stop being Prince Sean, the newly turned vampire who couldn’t control his bloodlust, and become another face in the crowd.
And so, I hurried toward the music, making sure to keep a normal pace. After all, no one would believe I was a human if I burst in there running at the speed of a vampire.
As I got closer, the streets got busier. People were holding bottles of what looked like home brewed beer, and they were all headed in the same direction I was-toward the sound of music.
Then one of them bumped up against me, his neck tantalizingly close to my lips.
I imagined what it would be like to pull him into a dark corner, dig my fangs into his neck, and drink his blood dry. But he smelled like something else-alcohol-and that alone made it easier to stop my fangs from sliding out of my gums. Alcohol gave blood a bitter aftertaste-it was why when humans donated their blood once a month, they were required to refrain from drinking alcohol for twenty-four hours beforehand.
I’d once asked Laila why humans were allowed alcohol at all. Weren’t they considered slaves and forbidden from all luxuries?
She’d told me that when you ruled, it was important to not take everything away from your subjects. It was necessary to give them a bit of what they desired-alcohol, a few days off a year, books, etc. Those small allowances gave them hope.
Hope lowered the chance of rebellion.
But only a bit of it. Too much, and then there might be trouble.
Now that I’d gained control over my bloodlust, I glared at the guy who’d bumped into me and walked away.
“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath. Once he thought I was out of his hearing, he told his friend, “What’d I ever do to him?”
I didn’t pay attention to the friend’s answer. I just walked faster, toward the music, feeling more confident now that I knew the humans were drinking tonight.
The alcohol in their systems would make it much less likely that I would lose control.
Finally, I approached a square-I guessed it was the main square in the village, because it was packed with people celebrating and dancing.
In the center was the saddest Christmas tree I’d ever seen. The tree itself was average, but the decorations were pathetic. What looked like twisted bed sheets were wound around it, and instead of ornaments there was kitchenware. Actual kitchenware that people ate with-forks, spoons, knives, and the like.
I looked around in bewilderment. All of this partying for this sad little Christmas tree?
But as I took in the happy faces, I realized how condescending I was being. The humans here didn’t have access to traditional Christmas decorations. The fact that they had come together, taken their everyday objects, and made use of them where they could was… well, I daresay it was magical.
A few people looked my way, and I pulled my hood farther over my head, trying to shrink into the wall. I imagined I looked quite silly-at over six feet tall, with the physique of an Olympian swimmer, I’d never been one to hide in the shadows.
But I couldn’t afford having anyone recognize me. I doubted they would-I hadn’t yet been introduced as a prince of the Vale since I technically hadn’t proven control over my bloodlust, and they certainly would never think that a vampire would come to their Christmas Eve celebration-but it was better to be safe than sorry.
I was looking around, watching everyone chat and laugh and dance, when I saw her.
She was dancing with her friends, but the first thing I noticed was her hair. The color wasn’t anything special-brunette, like many others in the crowd-but she wore it in an intricate half braided style. When she smiled, she looked like a princess. Her cheeks were flushed and radiant-I assumed from dancing-and her eyes were warm and kind as she chatted with a small blonde girl next to her.
I wanted her to look at me like that. With such pure happiness and kindness.
I wanted to know her.
And so, I pushed through the crowd, unaware of anything but the beautiful girl before me. I wasn’t even aware of the smell of their blood.
Finally I neared her group, and I stood there watching them, unsure what to say.
Why was I so speechless? In my human life, I’d approached so many beautiful women at bars that I’d lost count. I had this down to an art.
But that was my human self.
Now I was a vampire.
That was what had made me pause. Because this girl-whoever she was-looked so kind and innocent. I wanted her, yes. But did I want to taint her with who I was? I could already smell her blood above everyone else’s-sweet, delicious, and untainted by alcohol. Why didn’t she drink when all the other humans reveled in such a luxury?
The question only made me want to know her more-to discover the answer.
But if I did… and if I was alone with her… who knew what I would do? I could already envision myself sinking my fangs into her neck-enjoying the rush as her blood poured down my throat and filled my body.
I forced the thought from my mind. I couldn’t let myself think like that. I’d gained control over my bloodlust in the past week-I’d proven it many times.
But what if I lost control again?
What if this innocent girl died because of me?
“Hello?” someone spoke to me-the short blonde standing next to the girl-jarring me from my thoughts. “Do you want something?”
The four of them in the circle stopped dancing and looked at me. My eyes went straight to the brunette’s. She, too, watched me with curiosity. But her eyes were no longer open and sweet. They were guarded and full of questions. Her posture had stiffened, and she stood strong, as if ready to defend herself.
Still, she was beautiful. Regal. Fascinating.
And in just that moment-as if the universe were acting in my favor-a slow song started to play.
“Would you like to dance?” I asked, my gaze locked on hers.