Stella
I can’t believe the torture Boz has put me through over the last three weeks. He insisted we wait for our wedding night to be together. I assured him it was perfectly acceptable in this day and age, but true to his ancient, gentlemanly ways, he politely declined. “A vampire only marries his mate once, and it must be done right.”
And then he bit my neck and gave me another one of those mind-blowing orgasms.
Seriously, I can’t even imagine how he’ll be in bed if just nibbling on my neck brings me to the point of insane ecstasy. I’m pretty sure my head will explode tonight.
It’s finally our wedding day. I’m dressed, my makeup is done, and Mom is putting the finishing touches on my hair. Mabel and Eliza have been cooking up a storm for over a week. It was Boz’s idea to have them cater “the nuptial feast for the human guests.” Neli provided a list of traditional Transylvanian wedding dishes to inspire their creations.
Speaking of Neli, I’m not going to lie, seeing her transformation has given me a new perspective on becoming a vampire. Someday. Maybe? I know it wasn’t what she wanted, and it did break my heart that I was partially to blame (had I just stayed in France, she wouldn’t have died), but Neli assured me that she felt surprisingly happy. “I love being able to levitate. It’s so much fun!” she’d said.
I then asked her if Boz could bond with me, since she was now free of him. I wondered if that might be a way for me to have my cake and eat it too. I could stay human, walk in the daylight, have children, and eat normal food. I would stop aging and be with Boz forever. It turns out it’s a possibility.
The only downside of me accepting the bond is that, at some point, we will have to tell my family the truth. They’ll notice that Boz, Neli, and I aren’t aging. Whether they accept us or not, I’ll still have to face the heartbreak of watching them grow old and die. After giving it a lot of thought, I know my parents would never want to become vampires. They’d see it as unnatural, cheating the cycle of life—something they’ve always felt passionate about. Watching things grow, serve their purpose and die, like the grapevines, is a sort of natural poetry to them. As for the twins, I don’t think they’d want to trade their love of culinary arts for anything, and from what I understand, in speaking to Boz and Neli, vampires think human food smells like a giant outhouse. So, yeah. I think I can safely say that vampire land is out for my family.
Someday, I will have to face the inevitable. But not today. Today, I am marrying the love of my life. A man who has waited over eight hundred years for me.
Dad steps into my room. “Sweetie? Everything okay?”
I beam at him, noting how handsome he looks in his red and black tux. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
I stand from the vanity stool and take one last look in the mirror. My makeup is understated and natural looking with the exception of my bright red lipstick, which matches my red lace dress. It’s not the white I imagined for my wedding day, but according to some ancient Transylvanian tradition, everything must be red. And poofy.
“The red symbolizes life. Passion. Blood of our ancestors,” Neli said, insisting we all had to wear red. The poofy stuff, like my huge dress with a hoop skirt, is just some royalty thing from long ago.
“You look gorgeous, honey.” My mom whisks a tear from beneath her eye. “And I’m really warming up to the Romanian theme.” She glances down at her red pantsuit. Her dark hair is up in a bun.
“You look fantastic, but…I think you should wear your hair down. It will go better with your outfit.”
I understand there are over three hundred vampires attending the ceremony and dinner. No reason to expose tempting necks. On our side of the family, it’s only sixty guests—cousins, aunts, friends of the family, and my friends from school and college. Neli assured me the vampires won’t dishonor Boz by touching his guests, but better safe than sorry.
Hide that neck. I pull the pin from my mom’s hair and straighten out the locks. “There. That looks way better.”
She gives me an odd look. “I see your nerves are finally kicking in.” She laughs. “Ready?”
“Ready.” We follow my dad downstairs.
The twins join us in matching poofy red dresses with black shawls. They do a couple of spins to make the dresses swirl. “Take it for a spin,” Eliza says to me.
I do a twirl for them, and they clap. I smile. “You both look beautiful.”
“You too,” they say in unison.
The moment I step outside and feel the cool night air on my cheeks, my heart starts beating uncontrollably. I’m beyond nervous.
“Wow. Would you look at that,” Mom exclaims.
I follow her gaze to the enormous horse-drawn carriage a few yards away. “Wow is right.” It’s like something out of a dream, straight from some old Victorian movie, made for a princess, complete with candles inside lanterns to light the way. Every inch of the outside of the carriage is covered in red roses like a float in a parade.
“Wait. Are those horses dyed red?” Mom asks.
I look. It’s dark outside, but I definitely see red. “Yes. Those are in fact red horses.”
“Wow. Neli really left no detail undone.”
“Did someone say my name?” Neli appears out of thin air with a camera in hand, causing us to yelp. I might’ve screamed.
“Neli,” I growl under my breath, “how about not scaring the crap out of my family with your superhuman speed?”
“Oops! Sorry. I’m just so excited,” she whispers before returning her voice to a normal volume for the benefit of my family. “Wait until you see the banquet hall and ballroom. You’re going to love it! Now time for pictures.” She makes us pose for what seems like an hour. “Okay. I think a hundred pics of this moment should do it for the wedding album. Don’t want to be late.”
A hundred photos of just that? How big will this album be?
My dad helps me into the carriage, followed by the rest of my family, and then joins us. Neli closes the door.
“Aren’t you coming with us?” I ask her.
“I want to get some photos of you driving away. I’ll see you in a minute.”
I hope she doesn’t beat us there and open the carriage door. My family will definitely get suspicious. Or freak out.
The driver, who’s sitting outside at the front of the carriage, starts pulling away. “Neli”—I lean my head out the little window—“I forgot to ask, who is officiating the wedding?”
“An old friend, Nicephorus.”
What a strange name. I sit back in the carriage, trying to keep my hoop from smacking my chin and showing off my red silk lingerie to my family. Neli insisted I wear some very skimpy teddy outfit made of lace from Boz’s hometown. It’s supposed to be good luck.
Good luck. Does such a thing exist for a vampire? Luck? Goodness? “Oh, God. I don’t feel so well.” I’m marrying a vampire. I’m marrying a vampire! An unnatural creature of the night. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Stella, honey, just breathe,” says Mom.
“It’s normal to have wedding-day jitters,” Dad adds. “And just remember, your mom and I would never allow you to marry some creep. Boz is a good man, and I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. You’re making the right choice—and if I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t have sold the winery to him.”
“Boz is awesome!” Eliza says.
“Truly,” Mabel says.
I suddenly just don’t know. It’s all happening so fast.
The carriage arrives, and there’s a photographer waiting to greet us. “Oh, thank God.” I’m not up to explaining Neli’s supernatural speed. I’ve got enough to worry about.
I step out first, followed by my family. According to Neli, it’s tradition for both parents to give the bride away to her new “vampire lord.” Boz assured me that wording was simply the ancient nomenclature and did not mean he would own me: “We will be equals in every way, Stella. Except in bed. I will be your slave and dedicate myself to your every whim, your pleasure.” I liked that answer. A lot.
We pass through the open front door, and there is music playing that reminds me of something I heard in a movie once. Flutes and drums. It has a Renaissance vibe. I wonder if jugglers and fire-breathers are waiting in the ballroom. I hate that I had no say in planning this wedding. I love planning! What was I thinking? This is all wrong!
I stop. “I can’t do this.” But just as I speak those words, Neli appears just outside the closed doors of the ballroom. I didn’t notice before, but she’s wearing a strange-looking red and black milkmaid outfit with a little apron. Her red hair is now braided in two pigtails.
“Let me guess,” I snap, “your outfit is tradition.” I don’t want to say anything to insult her because I know how hard she’s worked to put this wedding together, but I can’t contain my feelings. “I’m sorry. None of this is how I imagined.”
She gives me a smile, one that I know is genuine because it lights up her green eyes. “Stella, that’s the point.”
“Sorry?”
“The tradition isn’t red and black or anyone having to wear a particular outfit. The custom dictates that the colors, the theme, the music, and even the food must all be something unique. It is a symbol of the couple. There has never been a love like yours, because there has never been another Boz and Stella. There never will be. Therefore, your wedding can’t look like anyone else’s.”
Oh my God. That’s kind of beautiful.
“Awww…how romantic,” Mom says.
“Strange,” says my dad. “I was researching Romanian weddings and never read anything about that.”
“It’s a very, very old custom from Boz’s ancestral village,” Neli chimes in.
Yeah. I bet it’s old. “I think it’s a wonderful tradition.” The nontraditional wedding as a symbol of the couple’s one-of-a-kind love. “Why didn’t you mention it before?”
“And ruin the surprise?” She shrugs. “That’s also part of the fun of a Gillmoreanu wedding. It’s a symbol for life. The bride and groom don’t know what lies ahead, but whatever happens, they’re in it together. I mean, obviously, I couldn’t keep all of the details a secret since dresses and suits are involved. But the rest, I assure you, will blow your mind. You like clowns, right?”
Oh God. I hate clowns.
“Just kidding.” Neli laughs. “You’re going to have the time of your life tonight. I promise. So, are you ready? Because I hear a flute playing the wedding march,” she singsongs and opens the door to the ballroom. She gestures for the twins to go in to their seats.
I can see straight down the aisle. At the end, Boz waits in his black tux with a red bowtie. My parents are beside me, and there are hundreds of people in there, most of whom I can’t see, but it just doesn’t matter. All I see is him and those dark, seductive, loving eyes. Everything else fades away—my doubt, my fears, my nervousness. I suddenly hear his heart beating alongside mine. How? I don’t know, but I hear it. And I know. He is my fanged love. We are a once-in-an-existence kind of love.
I smile at Neli. “Thank you. It’s the most perfect wedding ever.” With my parents by my side, I begin my march down the aisle, never wanting to look back.