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“We are vampires, Drake. The only way you will ever find peace is to embrace what you are. No way of life is perfect. Do you think all mortals find happiness in their marriages?” She shook her head. “Happiness lies in family, in tradition, in shared beliefs. I stay because my sons and daughters are here, because this is my home.”


“This was never my home,” Drake said bitterly. “It never will be.”


“I would spare you this, if I could.” A sigh of regret whispered past Liliana’s lips. “Your bride awaits.”


With a nod, Drake followed his mother down the corridor to the Council chambers.


Weddings among his kind were not romantic affairs. There was no music, no flowers, no guests other than the bride and groom, their parents and siblings. As Master of the Coven, Rodin would perform the ceremony.


Drake glanced briefly at his brothers as he entered the chamber. Notable by their absence were Vardin, Andrei, and Stefan. Earlier that evening, Vardin’s body had been disposed of, the ashes buried in the small cemetery located in the forest behind the Fortress. Drake assumed Andrei and Stefan were still at Wolfram with Elena. He would have given everything he owned to be there with her.


Liliana took her place beside Katiya’s parents.


Drake took a deep breath. With Vardin’s death, he had hoped for a reprieve, but he should have known better. His people had no mourning period. They burned their dead and never spoke their names again.


His last hope was that Katiya would find the courage to defy her father’s wishes. If she refused to go through with the ceremony, Rodin would have to accept her decision.


Taking his place beside Katiya, Drake reached for her hand. Her skin was cooler than usual. He could feel her trembling. She didn’t look at him; instead, she stared at the floor.


Rodin’s gaze moved over those assembled in the room. “You have been called here to witness the union of Drake Sherrad and Katiya Belova, here present. Drake, will you have this woman to be your life mate, to care for her and protect her so long as you shall live?”


Drake thought fleetingly of the nights and days he had spent with Elena, of the love they had shared, the light she had brought to his life, her willing acceptance of what he was.


It was his undying love for her, the very real fear that Rodin would make good on his threat to do Elena harm, that made Drake say, “I will.”


“Katiya Belova,” Rodin said solemnly, “will you have this man to be your life mate, to care for him and bear his children?”


Drake held his breath as he waited for her answer.


Katiya stared at Rodin and then at her sire, her eyes wide and scared, like a doe caught in a trap. She swallowed hard, then lowered her gaze and murmured, “I will.”


Drake blew out a sigh of resignation. There would be no reprieve.


Rodin pulled a small golden goblet from inside his jacket and placed it on the table in front of him. Taking Drake’s hand in his, he used his thumbnail to make a shallow cut in Drake’s palm, then held Drake’s bleeding hand over the goblet. He made a similar cut in Katiya’s hand, adding her blood to the cup.


Lifting the goblet, Rodin offered it first to Drake, who took a swallow, and then handed the cup to Katiya. She closed her eyes, drank quickly, and returned the goblet to Rodin.


“By the exchange of blood,” Rodin intoned, “and by my authority as Master of the Carpathian Coven, I hereby decree that from this night forward, Drake Sherrad and Katiya Belova are life-mated.” Rodin embraced the bride and then the groom. “May you be blessed with many healthy sons and daughters.”


Drake endured his sire’s embrace in taut silence; then, holding Katiya’s hand, he walked out of the chamber, his back rigid.


One of the drones had moved Katiya’s belongings into Drake’s quarters earlier that evening. His rooms, once spare and uncluttered, were now littered with female paraphernalia. Colorful pillows were scattered across the sofa. Half the wardrobe held her dresses and shoes. Bottles of perfume, sweet-smelling shampoo, brushes and combs occupied half the countertop in the bathroom. Flowered towels hung on the rack beside his own navy blue ones. He had seen a sheer black nightgown, most likely bought by the bride’s mother, spread across the foot of his bed. He grimaced at the memory.


Closing the door, Drake shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over a chair, then turned to face his bride, his hands clenched at his sides. “Why did you not just say no?” He bit off each word.


“I was going to—I wanted to, but I lost my nerve when I saw my father watching me.”


Drake blew out an angry breath. Why was life never easy? If she had just refused to accept him, he could be on his way back to Wolfram Castle and the woman he loved.


Dropping down into the chair in the corner, he stretched his legs out in front of him and regarded his new wife over his steepled fingers.


She stood in the middle of the living room, looking lost, obviously as unhappy about their union as was he.


So. He had kept his word. He had wed Katiya. Elena was safely away from the Fortress. As far as he was concerned, she was still his wife and always would be. Rodin might have the power to perform weddings and proclaim annulments here, in the Fortress, but that authority carried no legal weight in the outside world. According to the laws of Transylvania, Elena was still his wife. And would remain so, if he had anything to say about it.


“What are we going to do now?” Katiya asked.


A slow smile spread over Drake’s face. “I have a plan. We are going to spend as much time as needed pretending to fall in love. Once we have convinced Rodin that we are happily married and have accepted things as they are, we are going to leave the Fortress for a belated honeymoon.”


“Leave?” She shook her head. “I was told you were going to take a seat on the Council.”


“One of the terms of my agreeing to this marriage was that Rodin find another to take my seat in the chamber.”


She considered that a moment before asking, “How long must we pretend to be happily wed?”


“That, my dear unwanted bride, remains to be seen.”


Elena had expected to be unhappy without Drake, but she hadn’t expected to feel so empty inside, as if someone had ripped out her heart and left a bleeding, gaping wound behind. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, but she had expected that, had known she would miss him, that she would grieve for him almost as if he had died. She had expected that, too. It was the depths of her misery that surprised her. She told herself she hadn’t known him very long, that it wasn’t as if they had been in love for years and years. And yet it felt as if she had lost a vital part of her being.


Stefan and Andrei did their best to cheer her up. And they were good company, but it was hard to be around Drake’s brothers night after night. How was she supposed to forget Drake when Andrei and Stefan looked so much like him, when she was living in Drake’s house, sleeping in his bed? Maybe she should move, but where would she go? And even as she considered it, she knew she would never leave Wolfram Castle. She had no way to get in touch with Drake. Her only hope of ever seeing him again was to stay here in case he should one day decide to return.


For once, Elena would have welcomed the presence of the cat, but he was nowhere to be found.


One afternoon, needing a change of scene, Elena decided to take the car and drive to the city. She found the keys to the Porsche, grabbed her handbag and a sweater, and left the castle.


What had seemed like a good idea faded somewhat once she was behind the wheel. She knew how to drive a stick shift. She had learned in school. But she had never driven more than a few miles from home. So, she thought, switching on the engine, this would be an adventure.


It was inevitable that thoughts of Drake would fill her mind as she drove, ever so carefully, toward the city. It was there she had learned the truth of what he was. Funny, how unimportant that had seemed once she realized she was in love with him. She wondered now what they would have done when she grew old and he did not. Would he have stayed with her, taken care of her until she passed away? Or would he have left her for someone else when she became a burden?


Well, she would never know now.


Arriving in town, she parked the car and strolled along the sidewalk. Now that she was here, she had no idea why she had come. When they first arrived at Wolfram, Andrei had given her an envelope that contained more money than she had ever seen.


“From Drake,” Andrei had told her.


Drake. Just the mention of his name made her heart ache with loneliness. He had once told her to make any changes she wanted in the castle, but she liked it just the way it was, although electricity would be a nice addition.


With a sigh, Elena continued down the street. When she came to a store that sold housewares, she stepped inside. An hour later, she had purchased a set of flowered china, sets of silverware and glasses, and several new pots and pans. She also bought a pretty blue cloth for the table in the kitchen, and a pale green one for the trestle table in the main hall. It seemed strange to be able to buy whatever she wanted without having to ask permission or worry about the cost. After a clerk helped her carry everything out to the car, she strolled on down the street.


Passing by a bookstore, she stepped inside and bought every vampire book she could find.


Elena was making her way back to the Porsche when she saw her uncle step out of the hotel across the street. With a gasp of alarm, she quickly turned to look in the window behind her. Had he seen her? Heart pounding, she stared at his reflection, breathed a sigh of relief when he moved on down the street.


Hurrying to the car, Elena stowed everything on the floor and the passenger seat, slid behind the wheel, and drove for home as fast as she dared.


It wasn’t until the city was far behind that she breathed a sigh of relief. She had been so lost in her own misery, she had forgotten all about Dinescu. What was even worse, she had forgotten about Jenica.


Drake knew it wouldn’t be easy to convince his father that he had decided to make the best of things where Katiya was concerned, so he took it slow, knowing that, if he went too fast, Rodin would be suspicious. For the first few weeks, he remained cool and aloof with his bride. He was polite when they were in the presence of others. He treated her with respect, but not affection. Only gradually, did he become more relaxed. He began to smile at her. He held her hand. Once, he let Rodin catch him kissing Katiya in one of the corridors.