A Bridal March or a Requiem?

Luc’s words might have been shocking to anyone not used to his antics. I've had three years dealing with this Casanova though, and just like I was completely unsurprised to see him let himself into my dressing room in the hour of my wedding ceremony, I was likewise nonplussed by his desire to strip me down and drill me right before I take my vows to love and cherish another man. “Of course you would make that attempt,” I sigh, peeling off his hands. “It would make such a scandalous story for you to spread around the coven.”

“Nonsense. It would be our little secret,” he breathes into my ear. “And don’t pretend it’s not what you most desperately want to be doing just now.” His eyes hold me captive, and it’s not his compulsion. I am wracked with nerves and stress, and I could use a long and loving release with him, right up against the wall, or over on that couch...

But not tonight. Tonight is for Gracen and Gracen alone--

Fuck. Luc already has his fingers up beneath my skirt, sliding off my panties--

So I elbow him in the stomach.

He grunts, staggering back. “A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, my most abusive, unfaithful wife.”

“There can be no unfaithfulness in an open marriage, you hypocrite! You are only calling me your wife today as a pressuring insult,” I snap, angrily readjusting my skirt. “And you only want to fuck with me right here and now to hurt him and assert some claim--”

“It is no posturing claim,” he scoffs, tilting up my chin. “I love you, Leah.” Why do those words undo me, every time, as they’re dripping down from those sensual, soft lips... “You belong to Jules and I, forever and for always. That was the vow you made.”

“And I belong to Gracen too, from this day forward,” I insist, batting away his hand and putting some much needed distance in between us. “And look, I don’t get all possessive and overbearing when you’re off fucking with your dozen praels--”

“I have only two dedicated praels,” he corrects. “And I’m going to be exiling them any day now for their constant tantrums over not being allowed in the bedroom every week while you’re visiting--”

“Oh my god, your life is just so unbearably difficult,” I mock, fussing with my hair and reexamining my makeup to make sure he didn’t smudge anything.

“Protecting you and your son? It has been frustratingly difficult,” he snaps, and I stiffen, locking eyes with his reflection and finally catching sight of what he’s trying to keep buried – fear.

“What happened?”

“Forget I said anything,” he mutters, turning toward the door. “Forget I ever offered to fuck you. I know you’ve stolen Julian as your babysitter this day, but I’ll be stopping by that apartment now, and I’ll be sure to keep it nice and quiet as I drill him on your bed. Little Ben will never know. We’ll keep him distracted watching the blaring TV or something. But I’m sure Gracen will still smell us in his sheets--”

“What fucking happened, Luc?” I ignore all his petty taunts.

“I fucking hate emotions,” he breathes. “I hate drinking your blood. It is constantly ruining my game face. Suffice to say… There is an ancient vampire clan leader who has found out about Ben, the forbidden, half-breed abomination.” I feel my heart clench, stomach churning with dread far more serious than the wedding day jitters. “With Julian on watch, no one can lay hands on him without getting their heads blown off, be assured. And for my part, I did my best to appease the old demon. Managed to forge an agreement, settled on terms to protect him, and to protect you.” He sighs, pushing a hand through my hair. “When I came here tonight, I wasn’t just going to make love to you, Leah. I wasn’t just going to take one last, long draw of your blood, right here in this church and cause you to miss your own wedding…” He smiles, but it fades in an instant.

I search his eyes with brow steadily furrowing. “Why would it be our last time? Are you in danger from the Dulce?”

“You even guessed the right clan?” he beams. “God, I love that shrewd and detail-oriented head of yours. You pick apart my every smoke screen, my perfect partner for such deadly games.” His eyes grow solemn and serious. “But such games always end in death and loss, and Julian will be so very upset about this one...”

“What is Resa making you do?” I demand. “I know you would never hurt Ben…” I need to believe that.

“Don’t worry, love. No one makes me do anything,” he deflects, and I know from the look in his eyes that he isn’t going to confess anything more to me just now.

A knock comes at the door before I can press him any further. “Leah? We’re ready. Everyone is just waiting on you now, so… Didn’t you hear your cue?”

‘Not now, Kate!’ is what I almost snap in response, but Luc gently covers my mouth. “Gracen left me waiting for an entire fucking hour,” I whisper, peeling off his hand. “He can wait another few minutes while you finish telling me… whatever that look is.” I swallow, clutching at his hands. “You’re no martyr...”

“I most certainly am not,” he scoffs. Then he kisses my hand, crossing over to the window. “I will see you later this evening, dearest. I will come pay visit to your wedding bed--”

“You most certainly will not!”

“I will need to. I will tell you all you need to know in that hour. Then we will have all the time in the world to scheme together and make things right.”

He vanishes out into the churchyard without another word, just as Kate pulls open my door. “Leah?”

“I heard you. I’m ready. Just... start the music.” It is a joyous tune, I tell myself, not a requiem.