The Vampire Bride and Her Lycan Prince Groom

“Where are you going with that?”

My voice sliced through the stillness of the council hall like a blade.

Aldric froze mid-step, his back to me, shoulders jerking as if I had struck him. He clutched a small leather pouch to his chest so tightly that his knuckles blanched white. The flickering light of the wall sconces caught the sweat beading at his temples, making his usually neat hair stick damply to his forehead.

Slowly—too slowly—he turned to face me.

Moonlight streamed through the tall arched windows behind him, casting his shadow long and thin across the cold marble floor.

“Lady Celadra,” he stammered, bowing so quickly and awkwardly that it barely passed for proper etiquette. His voice trembled in a way I had never heard before. “I was… ah, attending to some last-minute preparations for tomorrow’s ceremony.”

I descended the dais steps one by one, my gown trailing behind me like spilled ink.

“Using the garden passage?” My tone was smooth, almost amused, but my gaze was sharp enough to cut. “And carrying something as if it were your own beating heart?”

His throat worked as he swallowed. “It’s nothing of importance, my lady.”

Nothing of importance.

The words stank of lies.

Aldric had served Luceris’s family faithfully for decades, a model of composure and discretion. I’d watched him countless times during gatherings, silent and precise, anticipating his master’s needs with uncanny efficiency.

Never had I seen him like this—pale as bone, hands trembling, eyes darting like a cornered animal.

He must have been trying to hide something. Typically from me.

-

Behind me, faint sounds floated from the distant great hall: servants hanging crimson banners, polishing ceremonial chalices, arranging the bloodline seating charts under my father’s relentless supervision.

Tomorrow, all of Veytharis Castle would gather to witness the binding of my life to Luceris’s.

A union carefully arranged, negotiated like a treaty.

My future had been signed and sealed months before I was even asked for my thoughts.

And yet here stood Aldric, threatening to unravel it all with his secrecy.

I stopped only a few paces from him, close enough to see the tremor in his jaw. “Show me,” I said softly. “Open the pouch.”

His gaze snapped up, wide with alarm. “My lady, please. I cannot.”

The nerve of him—refusing me, a daughter of House Veytharis, in my own hall. Anger flared hot beneath my ribs, but I kept my voice low, dangerously calm. “Can’t… or won’t?”

For a heartbeat, he looked as though he might yield. His fingers twitched on the leather ties.

Then, with a sudden burst of motion, he turned and bolted toward the narrow garden passage.

“Aldric!” My shout cracked through the air like a whip.

I surged after him, my feet silent on the stone. Years of training under Father’s spymasters had taught me to move like a shadow, and now that skill served me well. But Aldric ran with a desperation that lent him speed I had not anticipated. His