Bound by Night

“Katiya!”



“It is quite all right, Stefanya,” Liliana said. “I think we all know that Drake is also opposed to this match.”



“Then why must we go through with it?” Katiya exclaimed. “Why must I do this? It is so unfair! I will not even be his first wife!”



“Life is often unfair,” Stefanya said calmly. “This will not be the last time you are required to do something you find unpleasant.”



“I hate you!” Katiya cried. “I hate all of you!”



The sound of Stefanya’s hand striking her daughter’s cheek echoed like thunder in the room. “Enough!”



Tears welled in Katiya’s eyes and trailed down her cheeks like drops of scarlet rain.



“It is time,” Stefanya said. Turning, she opened the door and left the room.



“None of us marry for love,” Liliana said quietly. “We do what we must do. You may not love my son, but you will love your children for as long as they let you.”



Drake paced the drawing room floor, his strides long and impatient. His future bride was late, adding to his irritation. The sooner she arrived, the sooner they could get on with this farce.



Rodin turned away from the window. “I would remind you that Elena’s well-being depends on your behavior this evening.”



“You have made that abundantly clear.”



Rodin nodded. “See that you do not forget it.” He lifted his head, sniffing the air, then strode toward the door. “Your bride is on her way.”



Rodin had no sooner left the room than the door opened again and Katiya glided into the room, a pout on her pretty face. She closed the door behind her, then stood there, her hands clasped in front of her.



“Good evening,” Drake murmured.



She inclined her head, acknowledging his greeting.



Mindful that his father could overhear everything that was said if he so desired, Drake forced a smile into his voice. “Would you care for a glass of wine?”



“Yes, thank you,” she replied, her voice carefully polite.



“Please, sit down,” Drake invited, gesturing at one of the green-and-beige striped silk settees.



He scowled as he moved toward a table that held a variety of crystal decanters and goblets of varying sizes. How long was he supposed to entertain this stranger and what the hell were they going to talk about until he could escort her back to her apartment?



He filled two glasses. Then, schooling his features into a more pleasant expression, he carried them across the room and offered her one.



She took it with a murmured thank you.



Blowing out a sigh, Drake sat beside her. She was beautiful, of that there was no doubt. He supposed he should be grateful for her comeliness, if nothing else.



“So,” he said, “how soon are we to wed?”



“Never, if I could have my way,” she replied candidly.



Drake stared at her. “You do not want this?”



“No!”



He sat back, his legs comfortably stretched out in front of him as he mulled her response.



“I have no wish to marry a stranger,” she said, and he heard the tears in her voice. “I know it is our way, for men and women to mate when the man is of age and the woman is fertile. I know such matches are arranged between families”—she sniffed loudly—“but I have read of other ways to choose one’s mate.”



“Indeed?” Drake asked, intrigued by her comment.



“Yes! There are places where people are allowed to marry for love.”



“I fear that thought is akin to treason,” he muttered. Vampire marriages were arranged much like those of royalty in ancient times, mainly to unite families or ensure continued peace between rivals.



Katiya met his gaze for the first time. “You were married before, to that mortal woman. Did you love her?”



“I will always love her,” Drake replied quietly, and then he grunted softly. “You are also in love with someone else, are you not?”



“Yes.” Her chin lifted defiantly. “Your brother, Andrei.”



Andrei! Drake shook his head. He’d had no idea.



“You did not know?” Katiya asked.



“I had no idea. How long has this been going on?”



“Since last November.”



Drake grunted softly. Andrei and Drake were half brothers, born to different mothers only a few months apart. “Perhaps this will work to our advantage,” he said, thinking out loud. “Perhaps your sire would accept Andrei as your mate. He is far more suitable than I.”



Katiya shook her head. “My sire thinks only of power. As the eldest son, you are next in line to rule the Carpathian Coven. My sire thinks to ensure the continuance of our treaty.”



Exhaling a sharp breath, Drake took Katiya’s hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Maybe if we try very hard, we can figure out a way for both of us to get what we want,” he said, though he didn’t really have much hope for either of them.



Drake thought about what he had told Katiya long after he had bid her good night.



Vampires lived a very long time. Once a male had fathered children, his obligation to the Coven was fulfilled. And since vampires married out of a sense of duty and not for love, it wasn’t uncommon for couples to go their separate ways once their children were grown.



He raked a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to sire a child with a woman he didn’t love. Nor could he expect Elena to wait for him until his child was grown. He might not age, but she grew older with every passing day. Dammit! There had to be a way out of this!



He paced the floor in long angry strides. He didn’t want Katiya. She didn’t want him. What if she simply refused to accept him as her husband? He grinned inwardly. In front of the Council, Rodin had decreed that the marriage would be performed at a time of the bride’s choosing. And if she chose not to marry, what then? Would Rodin hold to his word? Could the answer be so ridiculously simple?



Elena sat in the library, a book open in her lap, her gaze on the flames in the hearth. It had been nearly two weeks since she had seen Drake. Their encounter in the dungeon was never far from her mind. What would have happened if she hadn’t forced him to stop? If she hadn’t had that candle, she would have been helpless to fight him off. Would he have drained her dry?



Driven by the need to see him, to assure herself that he was still alive, she had gone back to the dungeon two nights later, but Drake hadn’t been there and she had lacked the nerve to try to find his room for fear of knocking on Rodin’s door. Or Vardin’s, she thought with a shudder.



Lost in thought, she leaned back and closed her eyes. In two weeks, she hadn’t seen anyone save for the drone who stood guard at her door. Eager for company, she would have asked to be quartered with the sheep if there had been anyone to ask.



How much longer would Rodin keep her here?



Elena was almost asleep when the library door opened and Liliana stepped into the room. Stepped wasn’t really the right word, Elena thought, watching the vampire move toward her. Vampires didn’t walk like normal people. They sort of glided effortlessly across the floor.



“I hope I am not disturbing you,” Liliana said, her voice as smooth and cool as her ice green gown.



“No, of course not.” Elena closed the book in her lap. “I’m glad for the company.”



Liliana lifted one brow. “You are lonely?”



“Yes, very.”



“ Hmm.”



“Haven’t you ever been lonely?”



“No.” The vampire glanced around the room, as if gathering her thoughts. “We are having a reception tonight to celebrate Drake’s forthcoming marriage,” she said at last. “You are welcome to attend, if you wish.”



Elena started to decline, and then she hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to see Drake dancing with his bride-to-be, but if she refused, she might never see him again. Forcing a smile, she murmured, “Thank you, I’d like that.”



“You are a most complicated creature,” Liliana remarked. “You will find something suitable to wear in the wardrobe. Be ready in an hour. Your drone will escort you to the ballroom.”



Elena nodded. She watched Drake’s mother glide out of the room, then frowned. She had wandered all over the Fortress but she hadn’t seen anything resembling a ballroom. Had she missed something?



Laying the book aside, she went to her room to get ready.



The formal gown Liliana had left for her was exquisite. Pale blue in color, the full skirt was scalloped around the hem, revealing a dark blue underskirt trimmed in yards of white lace. Matching blue ribbons were woven through the neckline of the bodice; a wide sash of the same dark blue as the underskirt circled her waist.



Elena brushed her hair until it shone like ebony, brushed her teeth, sprayed herself with perfume, and told herself she wasn’t the least bit nervous.



Nevertheless, her stomach fluttered with anxiety as she followed her drone down the corridor. He paused halfway between the art gallery and the library. Elena looked at him, askance, wondering what they were waiting for, when he placed his hand on the wall. Much to her surprise, a door opened.



She paused before following the drone up a long flight of stairs, wondering, as she did so, if there were other doors hidden in other corridors. Were there bolt-holes here, as well? No time to think about that now.



Chiding herself for foolishly agreeing to attend a gathering where she would be the only sheep among a pack of wolves, she followed the drone down a narrow hallway that opened onto a large, rectangular room. Three of the walls and a good portion of the ceiling were made of glass, affording the guests a splendid view of the valley below and the star-studded sky above.



A trio of long tables covered in gold damask held dozens of crystal decanters and wineglasses. No other refreshments were in evidence.



The room, the view, the vampires—it was the most amazing sight Elena had ever seen. If she hadn’t known the truth, she would never have guessed these beautifully coiffed and gowned women and handsome men were vampires. They looked more like movie stars from a bygone era, when an air of mystery still surrounded actors and actresses.