by Ciara Graves
“I’m sorry.”
She laughed, surprising me. “For what? Chopping off my hand instead of killing me?”
I started to say yes, then stopped and laughed with her. “Good point. Besides, Macron said he’s going to fashion a new one for you.”
“No rush. I’m good with not having any magic in my life for a while.”
I grimaced. “Seneca, because of what I did… I don’t… I mean you won’t be able to…” I rested my head against the headboard then finally said, “You can’t use magic ever again. I’m so sorry.”
She tilted my face toward her with her left hand and smiled. “I’m okay with that.”
“You are?’
“After all the shit I’ve been through? Yeah, I am. I have my life. I have you. I don’t need anything else in my life.”
I wrapped my arms around her, never wanting to let go again. “No more scaring me like that, alright? My old vampire heart can’t take it,” I teased.
She chuckled quietly and snuggled closer.
“Seneca?”
“Hmm?”
“I have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow, or the next month or year, but I know I don’t want to live without you.” I debated on what to say next, trying to find the perfect words, then gave up and simply asked, “Marry me?”
She sat up and looked intently into my eyes. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah, I am.”
For a horrible second, I thought she was going to say no. Then she leaned in and kissed me, sliding onto my lap so she could hug me close as she did so. “What do you think?” she muttered against my lips, and I kissed her again, passionately.
The door opened, and we broke apart as Macron walked in, head down. When he glanced up, he sighed, though a smile played at his lips. “Honestly, you two. Can you not wait for your wounds to heal first?”
Seneca shrugged. “We’re getting married.”
Macron blinked then broke into a huge grin. “Shall I go share the good news? Perhaps give you two a bit more time alone?” He wiped at his eyes and mumbled something I couldn’t hear.
Seneca carefully climbed off the bed with my help and walked to Macron. She touched his shoulder and then he was hugging her, crying on her shoulder.
“Thank the gods you’re awake again,” he whispered as I sat on the edge of the bed, watching and grinning. It appeared in the short time she’d woken earlier, they had a chance to talk and were right with each other once more.
“I am.” Seneca leaned back and carefully dried Macron’s cheeks. “I’m alive, and I’m getting married. Never saw that coming, did you?”
“Can’t say I did. Now, how about you take a walk, stretch your legs. You’ve been in that bed for two weeks. Time to get back to the land of the living.”
I walked to Seneca’s side and offered her my arm. “My lady?”
She rolled her eyes but wrapped her left arm around my right. “Guess I should let everyone else know I’m alive, right?”
“Probably be a good idea.”
We exited the room, talking quietly about plans as we roamed the halls. Macron and the mages cleansing of the fortress had indeed cleared out any hint of the monster who used to reside here. There was no lingering hint of his magic or his cruelty. I hesitated each time we entered a new hall or room, but no memories crashed into me. I was at peace.
“So this wedding of ours,” Seneca mused as we came to a stop at the balcony overlooking the main entrance, “when were you hoping it would take place?”
“As soon as we can.”
“Uh, huh,” she mused, trailing her fingers along my shoulder. “So tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“Why not? No point in waiting, right? And I just… I uh…” Her cheeks burned bright red as she tilted her head and gave me a funny look. “You being old-fashioned is driving me nuts, alright? And yeah, I’d like to marry the guy I love before another war breaks out or one of us almost dies again.”
I grinned and leaned in, her breath catching as I barely brushed my lips against hers. “Then tonight, it is.”
“Great, that’s great.” She kissed me then backed away with a teasing smile. “I’m going to see about getting that new hand, or a temporary hand. Some sort of hand,” she rambled.
“I’ll take care of everything else. See you at midnight? The garden?”
She brightened, bobbing her head excitedly. “Gardens will be perfect.” Then she spun on her heel and hurried away.
I laughed to myself as steps approached from behind me.
“She’s awake,” Shane commented.
I turned to find him standing with Marlie and Owen. “She is. I need your help.”
Owen’s eyes narrowed, and I wondered if it was a good idea having him around. But he said he was happy for Seneca and me, accepted that I was, in fact, the good guy. And the right guy for her.
“And what might that be?” he growled.
“I need to plan a wedding by midnight.”
Shane shouted as he hugged me. Marlie nodded in approval.
Owen took a second longer than them to react, but he bowed his head, a small smile playing across his face. “It’s about time she was happy,” he told me. “What do you need?”
For the next several hours, those who could be in the sunlight rushed around Madwich while the rest of us kept busy at the fortress, gathering decorations, calling in everyone who might be able to help with the food and preparations.
Helena and Minnie tucked Seneca away so there wasn’t a chance of my seeing her before the ceremony. Around eleven, Marlie found me and dragged me away to my room to get ready. On the bed was a formal set of black breeches, black shirt, black overcoat, boots, and dark blue vest. He told me not to leave the room until they came to get me. I wanted to argue, but he gave me a stern look and disappeared.
I took my time changing, smiling all the while. I was getting married. It was strange but damned was I happy. We survived the war, we killed Rudarius, and though there might be rough roads ahead, Seneca and I would face it all together.
Once I was ready, I smoothed my hands through my hair and paced around the room, waiting.
The minutes ticked by too damned slowly. Eventually, Marlie and Shane fetched me, both in formal wear matching mine, except all black.
“The gardens await,” Shane said with a wink.
“What did you two do?”
“Don’t worry. She’s going to love it,” Marlie promised.
We wound our way through the fortress, empty except for a few people, here and there. As we exited and marched across what had been a bloody battlefield just two weeks ago, music drifted along the night breeze. Soft strings played a sweet melody. Tables were scattered all around the garden and Seneca’s cottage. A newly constructed dancefloor was just outside the garden gate. More tables of food and wine stretched off to the right and left of the gate. All the guests were already seated in chairs filling the garden. Heaters were scattered about to chase back the chill of the night.
Macron waited for me under the branches of the oak tree as the orbs of light floated around us, greens and blues, even a few vibrant violets.
“We are ready to begin,” he announced.
I took my place, Shane and Marlie behind me. The music changed to a softer tune, and the back door to the cottage opened.
I straightened, clenching my jaw as everyone turned.
Minnie and Helena exited first, both wearing dark blue dresses that trailed behind them. They found their seats in the front row, the blind seer giving me two thumbs up. Helena offered an encouraging smile.
Then another figure appeared in the doorway.
I stilled.
Seneca was beyond beautiful in the pale moonlight and flickering candlelight of the garden. Her long red hair lay loose over her shoulders. A simple silver chain adorned her neck, and a circlet rested atop her head, twisting and twining like a tree branch. The gown of emerald brought out her eyes and trailed behind her. It hu
gged her curves, the corset top intricately detailed with dark threads and beads. The bouquet in her hands was a simple gathering of white hydrangeas. Long green gloves reached to her elbows, but there was definitely a hand in the right one.
I glanced to Macron, hoping he read the gratitude in my eyes, then Seneca had my full attention again.
She walked toward me, and I grinned wider to see her barefoot beneath the gown.
When she reached me, Helena took the bouquet. I held Seneca’s hands as she nibbled her bottom lip, eyes shining.
“You clean up well, old man,” she teased.
“Not so bad yourself.”
Macron cleared his throat loudly, and we laughed as we turned to him. “If we can begin?”
Seneca and I nodded and let him conduct the ceremony.
Sometime in the later hours of the morning, I awoke, glancing at the closed curtain in Seneca’s bedroom. She slept quietly at my side, shifting closer, but stayed asleep. I kissed her shoulder then tugged the blankets up higher to keep her warm. Last night was fresh in my mind, and I grinned as I took in the mess of the bedroom. My clothes were scattered on the floor. Her dress was haphazardly thrown over the dresser mirror. One of the gloves ended up on the fan blade.
Her new, golden hand curled against my chest, and I sank back to the bed, drawing her in.
“You okay?” she murmured, not even opening her eyes.
“Just about perfect, love. Go back to sleep.”
She mumbled something else, but then was out once again.
I contented myself with watching her, feeling her heartbeat, hearing her steady breathing.
She was alive.
None of this was a dream.
Seneca and I were alive. And married.
I smiled, wishing my father had been there to see it.
It was time to start a new legacy of my own now.
A vampire and a dark fae.
Never would’ve seen this one coming.
Chapter 13
Seneca
Six Months Later
I opened the door to our bedroom and closed it quietly behind me, grinning. Draven leaned on the dresser, head hanging, muttering to himself.
“Hey,” I finally said, and he jumped. “Wow, you really are freaking about this.”
“Not freaking out,” he argued as I reached him. He kissed me sweetly. “Nervous.”
“Why?”
“It’s a big deal, and frankly I had no idea this was going to happen.”
I pulled him over to the large mirror and sighed. “Not sure how you didn’t see this coming. Who else would they choose?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Nathaniel? Someone else. Anyone else.”
“But they chose you, and hey, at least they like me now.”
He shook his head as he spun around to face me. “That’s it. I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.” I marched into the massive closet we’d added to our bedroom and searched for the crimson cloak needed for the ceremony about to take place.
After our wedding, while I continued to heal from my internal wounds and the tears to my soul, Draven went to work reshaping Rudarius’s fortress. It had remained here in the human realm after the rift closed. As such, we claimed it as our new home and the new central location for the Bleeding Crown Coven. It had taken time to get it the way we wanted, but now it was finished. There was no more dungeon, or torture chamber. The throne room had been turned into a massive garden, and our room was as big as my whole cottage.
And Draven even kept his promise about the fields surrounding our new home. The orchard had been planted, as had a massive garden. Plans for a greenhouse were underway. A few years from now, this whole place would look exactly as I hoped.
With the addition of a giant fortress as my house, of course.
I’d been worried it wouldn’t feel like home, but after being here so long, I couldn’t imagine going anywhere else. Draven being here made it our home. And being near him had helped the healing process along.
Macron had voiced his concern a few times, but then saw for himself how our being together, truly together, was patching the bits of me the magic had torn away.
They’d been replaced by the true love between me and Draven. If I’d had any lingering doubts about my happiness, they disappeared months ago.
With the cloak in hand, I went back to find Draven pacing. “Come here, you’re expected in a few minutes.”
He growled, annoyed.
I raised my brow, and he gave in. I turned him so he faced the mirror and draped the cloak across his shoulders, moving around to tie it in the front.
“What if I mess up?”
“Draven, you managed to unite the covens and stop a war. Have some faith in yourself.”
He captured my hands, his gaze falling to my shimmering right one crafted from an alloy of gold and pure mage magic. It felt like a real hand, moved like a real hand. Most days, I forgot it wasn’t my hand. Guilt appeared in Draven’s eyes, and I stood on my toes to kiss it away.
“Stop it. You did what you had to do. It’s just a hand.”
“You’re the one who stopped Rudarius,” he whispered.
“And you think I could’ve done anything I did without you? You know better.”
He hung his head, but I kissed him again, wrapping my arms around his neck. He crushed me to his chest and backed me into the nearest wall with a growl. If we didn’t need to be on our way to the ceremony, I would’ve been more than happy to give in, but if we weren’t down there soon, they’d come looking.
I pulled back with a laugh as he sighed. “You’ll be fine. And I’ll be right there the whole time.”
“Yes, you are because you are also being named as leader.”
“Wait. What?”
“It’s tradition. You’re my bride, and therefore you’re also to be named as leader of this coven.”
I ground my teeth as he walked to the mirror and adjusted the heavy cloak.
“When were you planning on telling me this?”
“Once we were downstairs. What? You’re already dressed. Why do you think I asked for a lavish gown for tonight? It’s your ceremony, too.”
“What am I going to do with you?”
“Be with me for eternity.”
I tilted my head back and forth then yanked him around so I could kiss him again. “Deal. Now come on, or we’ll be late. Ceremony,” I reminded him and took hold of his arm.
“So demanding,” he whispered as we left our room. “I like it.”
I growled right back at him as he laughed. We walked through the fortress and down the main stairs leading to the double doors of the new throne room. He nodded to me and together, we stepped inside.
The entire Bleeding Crown Coven, along with other guests, filled the hall. We took our time walking down the long aisle leading to the platform and the two chairs placed upon it. Nathaniel and Macron were both there waiting for us.
Nathaniel grinned at us both then shifted his gaze to Draven. “You have come before the Bleeding Crown Coven to claim the rightful title of our ruler. Do you swear to do all in your power to keep them safe?”
“I do,” Draven declared firmly.
“Do you swear to uphold our laws?”
“I do so swear.”
“And do you, Draven, swear from this day forward to never falter in your duties as our ruler? To be there when we need you most? To guide us through our darkest days?”
Draven hesitated for a split second then bowed his head. “I swear to do all that is asked of me.”
Nathaniel beamed at him then stepped aside as Macron came forward. He placed his hand on Draven’s chest and closed his eyes.
Draven barely flinched as Macron’s hand glowed then faded almost as quickly. He stepped back, and Draven turned as he opened his shirt to reveal the brand on his chest. The vampires behind us clapped and cheered to see the Bleeding Crown finally replacing the burned-on sigil Rudarius placed there so long ago.<
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Draven closed his shirt and turned to me, taking my hands in his. “As ruler of the Bleeding Crown Coven, it is my duty to find a suitable wife, which I have done,” he said with a smile. “And to make her a part of this family. Seneca, dark fae of the Sa’ren, do you swear to always be loyal to the Bleeding Crown Coven?”
“I do so swear.”
“And will you do whatever is in your power to keep them safe? To uphold our laws, and guide them through their darkest days? To be at my side forever and always?”
I squeezed his hands as I replied, “I will do all that is asked of me.”
His lips twitched, and he glanced to Macron, who bowed his head and came toward me this time. He held his hand toward my chest, and a feeling of completeness filled me as his palm glowed. Macron held out a small mirror to me so I could see it fully. When I looked, a small sigil was there matching the one on Draven’s chest. Or mostly matching it. Draven’s brow furrowed as he glanced to me then Macron.
“What, what’s wrong?” I asked, wondering why there were different lines where the blood dripped from the crown. They twisted and turned like vines, curling up through the crown, too. And there at its center was a crescent moon.
“New legacy indeed,” Draven whispered and smiled. He flinched, then hurried to undo his shirt.
The Bleeding Crown that had been there before shifted and changed right before our eyes so it matched mine.
“What is this?” I asked Macron, worried I messed everything up. “Is this bad?”
“No,” Macron replied. “This is the future, your future, together. The start of a new era for the coven you two will form.”
“To our rulers,” Nathaniel called loudly. “Long may they reign!”
Rulers? Draven’s eyes widened, too, but the hall exploded in more applause and shouting of Nathaniel’s words. Covens never had kings. Draven leaned in and whispered to Nathaniel, but he merely nodded to the rear of the room.
One by one, the leaders of the vampire covens entered and approached.
Wendall led the way, and when he sank to one knee, bowing his head, Draven froze. “My lord,” he uttered with a wink.