Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Maybe that ancient scroll he gave me really did come from the Library of Alexandria,” Victor said, reaching for Pandora’s hand. “What a place for a honeymoon,” he added, lifting her hand to his face and kissing her on the finger, just in front of her engagement and wedding rings.
This time, they’d actually gone through with the ceremony. Though, it had been touch-and-go there for a while.
For example, they had all almost burned to death because one of her aunts had decided to set up a bunch of candles around the library. The library full of old books loaded with ancient, dry paper.
If it hadn’t been for a quick-thinking and moving Lucy, the knocked-over candelabra would have ignited a whole shelf of encyclopedias and trapped them all in a burning room.
Sure, the encyclopedias had been full of old, inaccurate information. But it would have been a real tragedy for everyone to have died on such a lovely day.
Then, well, there’d been the reception. Where Ravenna and Henrietta had got into an argument that had devolved into an actual, real-life food fight. While Vlad had sulked and pretended not to be jealous of Elizabeth’s new beau – a lovely Camelot macaw who hadn’t seemed to know that Vlad and Elizabeth had ever been an item. And Victor’s father almost finally figured out the whole vampire thing.
She and Victor had decided as a couple not to share that information, both believing his parents were a bit too … practical to be able to wrap their heads around the idea of supernatural creatures not only existing, but marrying into their family. Most humans wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of truth without hysterics or even an outright breakdown as the world they thought they knew fell apart around them.
It wasn’t worth the risk. Especially considering how infrequently the families got together. It would be even less often when his parents finally moved to Portugal like they’d been dreaming of after retirement.
As crazy as it had all been, Pandora knew she would look back on it with nothing but fondness for the rest of her life.
Even just thinking back on some of Victor’s vows made her feel like she was flying.
Being with you has taught me that real love lies in embracing every part of who we are. Today, I vow to celebrate all that makes you unique, to cherish your heart, and to love you for all the time we’re blessed to share …
“I’m afraid to see what’s behind this door,” Victor said as they followed a trail of dried red rose petals up the grand staircase and toward one of the doors on the second floor. “What are the chances we won’t be sleeping in coffins?”
She’d mentioned the need for human beds to Uncle Reginald. But, well, as much as the man had the memory of a steel trap when it came to ancient Greece or every war mankind had struggled through, he had a remarkable ability not to remember things told to him just moments before.
“Worst case, we build a fort,” Pandora said, not caring where they slept so long as they were together.
“That sounds quite romantic,” Victor said. “Ready?” He reached for the brass doorknob in the shape of a human hand.
She’d thought she was prepared for anything when it came to a vampire home, having spent so much time in different ones throughout her life.
This one, though, was straight out of gothic fiction.
The room was colour-washed – walls, moldings, ceiling – in black. The old windows were hung with thick black velvet drapes that blocked the sun and kept out cold drafts.
The stone floor was covered in various rugs. Likely just for the aesthetic. But it worked to keep the chill from creeping in through the floor as well.
There were massive canvases on the walls with gilded frames, half a dozen gorgeous women looking down at Pandora and Victor as they stepped inside.
“The brides, I presume?” Victor said, looking around at them.
“Kind of creepy, if you ask me,” Pandora said, feeling like their eyes watched them as they moved.
“But at least there’s a bed.”
There was.
It was bigger than any she’d ever seen before, a black four-poster bed with crimson crushed-velvet drapery and black silk and linen bedding.
“We can close the fabric if the portraits get too creepy when we try to sleep,” Victor said.
In sconces on the wall, candles flickered as if with a breeze, their wax dripping down their pillars to hang off of their holders. There were even some old drips on the stone floors and carpets.
“The petals are a sweet touch,” Pandora said, seeing the way they led to the bed, but didn’t cover the fabric.
“Guess Drachmar is a romantic,” Victor said. “Something else I feel needs to be found in fiction about him somewhere.”
“Maybe you should write it.”