Lord Motte's Vampire Bride - Version 1

Insatiable Curiousity

Lord Motte grins from ear to ear, pride undeniably showing through. He couldn't be more pleased with himself, nor my reaction.

"Winning you over, am I darling?" His voice is smooth, and oddly deeply attractive. It almost makes me want to give in...just take my inner feelings and desires and run with him...but another part of me has an undying uncertainty that his late wife may actually be me...and for whatever reason, she was compelled to escape him by any means possible.

Why would she do that?

What could he have done that would cause her love to turn sour?

I keep my mouth clamped shut and look him up and down, withholding a verbal answer.

He cocks his head. "Come, let's have a real dinner and talk."

"Is blood not a real dinner?" I lightly snap.

"No, I often enjoy the pleasure of human consumption as well, and I suggest you do too." He replies without thought. "I like to think that it maintains my human side."

"I wouldn't say that you have a human side." I snicker. "Not anymore, at least. You kill way too much."

"I still have the right to enjoy things...and watch your words carefully, little one. You will be no better, no worse than me before you have a chance to bat an eye." He approaches me menacingly, finally affected by my accusing tone. "That is just how fast time passes...and you won't even get a chance to watch yourself change." He snaps his fingers close to my face, causing me to flinch without hesitation."You won't even have a moment to change the course of your dismantling humanity."

I lean back away from him and attempt to swallow my dread.

He leans forward and closes the distance I created. He even places his forehead against mine. You could even consider the touch intimate and comforting. "We are the same. Isa..." He trails off. "I don't think I could even bear to call you that anymore. It isn't your name anymore regardless." He turns away, hiding his face in the darkened corners of the red room.

The sunlight was gone, but I could still manage to see. I hadn't even noticed until now, but when he turned his face so, I can't quite distinguish the defined lines of his face...his jaw...his sharp, chiseled nose....

I shake my head and clear my mind as he thinks in silence, concealing his face from my sight.

Does he want me to comfort him for driving his wife away? Driving her away into death?

No, that is ridiculous.

"She is gone." I murmur, unmoving.

"I know." His voice softly cracks.

I open my mouth and take a small step closer. I reach out a shaking hand only to see him abruptly snap his neck back and meet my eyes unflinchingly.

I shrink away, both fearful, and embarrassed I had reached out so soon. Especially when becoming his and willingly playing the part of his bride was the last thing I wanted to do.

My actions seem to be speaking otherwise on their own.

I was beginning to enjoy our banter a little too much, perhaps, and that may be clouding my judgement.

Or...perhaps, I should be giving in. So called destiny was never something I ever wished for or believed in. Life had always felt so random...with this one exception, of course.

Lord Motte has been the only certain thing in my life. Hasn't he?

A shiver chills me to my core and I clear my throat awkwardly. "Alright, let's have dinner."

We walk together to the dinner table we were just seated with Daphne at. I walk slowly behind him, steadily, but slowly. I watch his stride from behind, my eyes hooded and fully focused on his black coat and his neatly pressed pants. His shoes are even shined, and I can't help but notice everything else he has done to make himself appear presentable.

He really did dress this way everyday, waiting anxiously for his bride to walk through the door...hoping that he would look his best for her, the woman he had lost all those years ago.

A woman he was willing to remain trapped in here for centuries for.

A woman he was willing to survive off of blood for all eternity for.

A woman he was willing to continuously kill for.

And that woman is me, isn't it?

And I am practically rejecting his every effort.

I want to loath him so desperately, run out of this place and never return, steal a car and drive for miles and miles every day so that I never have to lay eyes on him again...but I still haven't run out those doors.

I can convince myself it is simply in fear of being caught, tracked down by the authorities that will throw me in jail with my food source dangling dangerously in front of me, having my mother hear of me slaughtering dozens and dozens of my fellow prisoners before even being sentenced...

That will always be a valid reason for not running.

But so will my insatiable curiousity of the man who ruined himself in anticipation of my return, threw his humanity and freedom out the window for me and waited at the dinner table for me so that he could take me back into his life, re-meet me as the reincarnation of his true love and serve me my favourite meal. 

I cannot think of one person I have loved nearly half as much as how much he must have loved Isabella.

I inhale nervously and sit down at the dinner table. A silver platter was magically already presented in front of me.

"And when did you have the time-" I laugh out before he shushes me gently with a soft smile.

"Just enjoy, and then we'll talk till the sun comes up and down again." He whispers, his eyes trained on me.

I quiet down, my eyes tracking him as he smirked and removed the lid in front of both myself and himself, revealing a ceaser salad.

I gasp and let out a surprised giggle.

"Ceaser salads are good too, right?" He winks.

"Yes, yes they are."