His Captive Bride, His Fated Mate

⟐﴾SUNSPIRE, CAPITAL CITY OF ASTRAGARDE﴿⟐

••{RHIANNON'S POV}••

The flowers in my hands shake as I walk down the aisle.

Sunlight streams through the stained-glass windows, painting the cathedral in hues of ruby, sapphire, emerald, and gold. The ængelic voices of the choir rise, accompanied by the beautiful melody of violins. The silk banners of Astragarde and Goldhaven drift in the gentle breeze, and from a distance, I can hear the echo of wedding bells.

I fight to steady my breathing, but my nerves won't let me. Every step down the aisle feels endless and too short at the same time. And though the crowd is hushed, I can feel the weight of hundreds of eyes following me.

My gaze settles on my family in the front row.

My father, King Eros Aurelian, stands tall in his ceremonial cloak. He has never been the kind of man to cry in front of others, but today his green eyes glimmer with tears. Beside him, my younger brother, Rayn, smiles from ear to ear. My sister, Jesenya, silently mouths, "you look beautiful". And little Darren, standing on a cushion to see over the railing, stubbornly clings to the wooden sword he wasn't supposed to bring.

Across the aisle, Cyrus's family occupies the seats of highest honor. King Bastian of House Highcrest watches with pride, his hand resting over his heart. At his side, Queen Marianna dabs at her eyes with a silk handkerchief. Cyrus's older brother, Alexei, meets my gaze and gives me a small nod, a soft smile curving his lips. And Arielle, his younger sister, can barely contain the happiness lighting up her face.

They aren't just his family anymore. They are about to become mine too.

And then I set my eyes on him.

My love.

My soulmate.

My whole world.

Cyrus.

My betrothed since we were children. My dream since the moment I first understood what love was.

He stands at the altar, dressed in white and gold, and the moment he smiles at me my heart skips a beat.

As soon as I reach him, he takes my gloved hand and lifts it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against my knuckles.

"You're trembling," he whispers.

"Only because I can't believe this is happening," I whisper back. "I keep waiting to wake up and find out this is all a dream."

The smile on his face only widens. "If it is, then I'd never want to wake up. Ever."

It's such a Cyrus thing to say that it makes me laugh, but the sound leaves my lips as nothing more than a quiet breath.

He leans closer, resting his forehead against mine, and for a few heartbeats, we do nothing but stare into each other's eyes.

Everything else around us falls away in that moment, and for a while, it feels as if the world belongs to only us.

"Rhiannon of House Aurelian," he says, teasing to hide his own nerves. "You are by far the most beautiful terror I've ever faced."

I snort, rolling my eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"And yet you're smiling," he replies.

Our eyes linger for a moment longer before we finally turn to face the priest together.

As soon as High Priest Ormund lifts his staff, the music fades and the murmurs hush.

"Before Astoria, Goddess of the Heavens," his voice echoes, "we stand as witnesses to the union of these two souls. May honesty dwell between them, and compassion guide their hearts. Let no darkness undo what has been blessed beneath the light."

"So shall it be," the congregation says in unison.

Cyrus's thumb gently strokes the back of my hand in slow circles, easing the frantic rhythm of my heart.

"Prince Cyrus of House Highcrest," Ormund begins. "Do you swear by Astoria's light to guard her life as your own, to love her in times of joy and grief, to stay by her side in sickness and in health, and to hold her hand until your very last breath?"

Cyrus meets my eyes with a look so full of love that my heart aches.

"I do," he says softly, a smile curving his lips.

I find myself smiling back before I even realize it.

The priest faces me.

"Princess Rhiannon of House Aurelian, do you swear by Astoria's light to guard his life as your own, to love him in times of joy and grief, to stay by his side in sickness and in health, and to hold his hand until your last day?"

My lips part. "I-"

A sudden clap of thunder splits the heavens, rattling the cathedral to its foundations. As startled gasps ripple through the crowd, the bright sky outside begins to darken, and the rays of sunlight fade away until the cathedral is consumed entirely by darkness.

My skin prickles all over with goosebumps as a shiver crawls up my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand erect.

"What was that?" someone gasps.

"Is it a storm?"

"The sky, it–it was clear just moments ago..."

"Your Majesty," a noble whispers urgently to my father. "Something is terribly wrong."

Uneasy murmurs ripple throughout the congregation. Nobles rise halfway from their seats, craning their necks toward the stained-glass windows. Even the guards rest their hands on the hilts of their swords.

When I look at Cyrus, I find the same troubled expression etched across his face, but neither of us says a word.

The High Priest lifts his hand to quiet the crowd.

"Remain calm," he says, raising his voice. "Let us all remain-"

The cathedral doors burst open, slamming against the stone walls with a thunderous boom. All the windows explode at once, and thousands of shards rain down on all of us.

Armored soldiers flood into the cathedral with terrifying speed, and in that moment, the congregation descends into chaos.

Nobles scream and scramble over one another, while the guards draw their swords, racing to form a defensive line.

The moment it dawns on me, my heart pounds violently against my ribs.

I open my mouth... but the word leaves my lips as nothing more than a whisper.

"Vampires."

Without hesitation, Cyrus steps in front of me, shielding me with his body while refusing to let go of my hand.

The invaders fall back, forming a clear path before bowing in flawless unison.

From the darkness beyond the doors, a man steps into the cathedral.

His skin is pale as moonlight, his face framed by hair the color of roses, falling over his shoulders in waves. A golden crown sits on top of his head, and he moves with the confidence of a man who owns both the ground beneath his feet and the heavens above.

The cathedral falls dead silent.

The man doesn't look left or right.

He doesn't look at the guards pointing their swords at him with shaky hands, or the nobles stumbling backward, or the priest who has forgotten how to speak.

His golden eyes instantly lock with mine, and as he stares, I feel it deep within me, as if he's looking directly into my soul.

"This union ends now," he commands, his deep voice echoing throughout the cathedral.

Then his lips curve into a cold, devilish smile.

"The princess belongs to me."

••{RHIANNON'S POV}••

The flowers fall from my trembling hands, scattering across the floor at my feet.

Cyrus turns to me and cradles my face between his hands, making sure I'm only looking at him instead of the red-haired vampire closing the distance between us.

"Rhia, look at me," he says calmly, but the fear in his voice is impossible to miss. "Nothing's going to happen to you. I swear it."

I manage a shaky nod, but I can't stop the violent trembling that racks my body or the frantic pounding of my heart.

"Princess," a familiar voice calls.

I turn to find Garrick making his way toward me. The moment he reaches me, he gently takes my hand in his.

"I swore an oath to protect you since the day you were born, Rhiannon," he says firmly. "And today..." He turns to face the red-haired vampire making his way down the aisle. "...I'll honor that oath with my life if I must."

"Garrick..." I whisper, fighting back the tears gathering in my eyes.

He presses a lingering kiss to the back of my hand before resting a hand on Cyrus's shoulder. A small smile curves Garrick's lips, and the sadness in his expression carries the weight of a final farewell.

"Your Highness," Garrick says quietly, "If I die today... promise me you will keep her safe."

Cyrus gives him a firm nod. "You have my word," he says without hesitation.

Garrick gives me one final glance that lasts for several heartbeats, then he lets go of my hand and turns to face the vampire. With every step he takes, I feel as if I'm watching him walk toward his own grave.

For the first time, the vampire's golden eyes leave mine and settle on Garrick as he draws his sword. An amused smirk curves his lips as Garrick lets out a shout and charges at him.

Garrick swings his blade for the vampire's head, but he moves faster than my eyes can follow, dodging the attack. He strikes again and again, but the vampire keeps sidestepping his attacks effortlessly, all with his hands folded behind his back.

Garrick growls like an animal, swinging his sword wildly until the blade finally nicks the vampire's neck, drawing a thin line of blood.

The smirk vanishes from the vampire's face and his golden eyes turn cold.

"I've had enough of this," he says.

He rams his fist into Garrick's shoulder, and a sickening crack echoes as Garrick cries out in agony.

The vampire flicks two fingers and Garrick's sword is suddenly ripped from his grasp by an invisible force, clattering several feet away from him. Then he slowly raises his hands.

A few uneasy gasps ripple through the cathedral.

I don't understand why... until I notice several guests staring in horror with their eyes wide and their mouths hanging open as if they're screaming, yet not a single sound escapes them. Then suddenly, blood starts pouring from them, rising into the air from their eyes, ears, noses, and mouths.

They choke and convulse, collapsing to their knees as they claw desperately at their faces, trying to stop the blood from leaving their bodies.

But it doesn't stop.

It keeps flowing... and flowing... until their skin withers before my eyes, turning dry and grey. Then one by one, they fall to the floor, their bodies twitching violently before going completely still.

I clap both my hands over my mouth but it does nothing to muffle the piercing scream that leaves my lips.

My knees give out, but Cyrus catches me before I hit the floor, wrapping both his arms around me. I clutch at his clothes as sobs rack my body.

"Don't look, Rhia," he whispers, his voice trembling with each word. "Please... don't look."

But I can't bring myself to look away.

The blood surges through the air, twisting together into one massive stream before hurtling straight toward Garrick.

"Garrick!" I scream.

It slams into him with terrifying force, hurling him against one of the cathedral's pillars. The blood coils around his arms, his legs, and his chest, freezing around him until he's pinned helplessly against the stone.

He strains against it with everything he has, but it doesn't budge.

His eyes find mine.

"Your Highness!" he shouts, his voice ragged and desperate. "Run!"

But I can't.

My body refuses to move.

The vampire's golden eyes lock with mine once again, and he begins walking toward me like he has all the time in the world.

My father steps in front of Cyrus and me with his hand on his sword. His green eyes burn with rage as he faces the vampire.

"Go back to the darkness you crawled out of, dæmon!" he roars. "My daughter belongs to no one!"

Father draws his sword and points it at the invaders.

"Guards!" his voice booms throughout the cathedral. "Kill them all!"

The guards immediately charge at the intruders.

The red-haired vampire only smirks.

He lifts his hand almost lazily, and the moment he flicks two of his fingers forward, all hell breaks loose.

••{RHIANNON'S POV}••

In the blink of an eye, the cathedral turns into a slaughterhouse.

I watch in horror as the vampires butcher the royal guards like wolves descending on a flock of sheep.

One of them grabs a guard by the head and wrenches it clean from his shoulders. Another drives his hand into a soldier's stomach, dragging out ribs and entrails in a shower of blood.

Everywhere I look, people are screaming, praying, and begging desperately for their lives. And through the chaos, the red-haired vampire keeps walking toward me, his golden eyes never once leaving mine.

My heart stops when I see my father running toward him.

"Father, no!" I scream.

My father's sword slices through the air as he attacks, but the vampire dodges every strike effortlessly. On the fifth swing, he raises one hand and my father is ripped off the ground, kicking uselessly as he's suspended in mid-air. Then with a flick of his wrist, the vampire sends him crashing into the far wall of the cathedral.

"Father!" I cry out, rushing toward him.

I fall to my knees beside his still body, my hands trembling as I reach for him. Rayn, Jesenya, and Darren quickly follow, their faces utterly terrified.

"Father!" my sister cries, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up! Please, wake up!"

Cyrus drops down beside us, pressing two fingers to my father's neck.

For a few, agonizing seconds, he doesn't say a word. I watch his expression desperately, searching for any sign of hope.

Then finally he exhales. "He's alive."

A shaky breath escapes me as relief floods my heart. "Thank the Goddess," I whisper.

"Is Papa hurt?" Darren asks, his small voice trembling as he clutches onto Rayn's hand. "Is he... going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine," Cyrus answers, giving him a little smile.

Rayn pulls our little brother closer.

"Hey, don't cry, little one," he says softly, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "You heard Cyrus. Papa's going to be fine."

My fingers shake as I reach for Cyrus's hand, locking them together and holding on tight.

"Cyrus..." I whisper as tears run down my face. "What are we going to do?"

Cyrus kisses me so desperately that he steals the breath from my lungs. Each time our lips lock, it feels as if he's trying to give me every promise, every dream, and every piece of the future we were meant to have in a single moment.

When he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine, my heart already knows what my mind refuses to accept.

This is goodbye.

Tears gather in Cyrus's blue eyes as he looks into mine, and for a few heartbeats, neither of us says a word.

"I have to go," he whispers.

I slowly shake my head, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks.

"No," I say firmly. "No, you don't."

I tighten my fingers around his as if holding on hard enough can keep him here with me.

A broken laugh escapes him but there's no humor in it.

"Someone has to protect you, Rhia," he says softly. "Who else is it going to be if not me?"

"You don't have to do this," I cry desperately, my words tumbling out fast. "Please, Cyrus. Let someone else fight them. Let the guards-let anyone else-"

My voice breaks as I clutch his hand tighter. "You can't leave me."

Cyrus lifts his free hand and cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that won't stop falling.

The tenderness in his touch almost breaks me more than the fear.

"Rhia..." he whispers.

I lean into his palm and close my eyes, pretending like this is all a nightmare and we're still standing at the altar.

Pretending I actually got the chance to say, I do.

"Please," he says softly. "Let me go."

"Let me come with you," Rayn says, grabbing Cyrus's arm.

"No!" I snap, turning toward him. "We stay here with Father, Jesenya, and Darren."

I turn back to Cyrus.

For a moment, I can only look at him.

I trace every familiar line of his face-the curve of his jaw, the softness in his blue eyes, the way his blonde curls fall across his forehead. My trembling fingers lift to brush through it, committing every part of him to memory.

Because a part of me is terrified that this will be the last time I ever touch him.

"Cyrus..."

His hand covers mine, holding it against his cheek.

And with every piece of my heart screaming at me to stop him, I force myself to say the words I never wanted to speak.

"Go."

A faint smirk pulls at his lips but it doesn't reach his eyes. Then a single tear slips down his cheek.

"I love you, Rhia," he says, his fingers slowly slipping from mine.

My lips part.

"I lo-"

But before I can say it back, he's already gone, marching toward the red-haired vampire.

"Cyrus!" Alexei shouts, tossing his brother a sheathed sword.

My love catches it instantly, drawing the blade as he joins Alexei.

Standing side by side, they turn to face the vampire. And as they charge at him, my heart beats so violently I can barely breathe.

The brothers move in perfect rhythm, Cyrus striking high while Alexei attacks low, forcing the vampire to defend from both sides. But the vampire doesn't even seem to be trying.

He moves between their attacks with terrifying ease, slipping past their blades like he already knows where each strike will land.

I gasp when the vampire punches Cyrus in the ribs, sending him skidding across the floor. Alexei quickly swings for his neck, but the vampire kicks him in the chest, knocking him several feet away.

Cyrus forces himself back to his feet and raises his sword again.

His eyes find mine and the determination on his face nearly breaks me.

He charges again, and this time his blade finally connects, slicing across the vampire's face.

For the first time, the vampire looks startled. He touches the wound, but when he looks at the blood on his fingers...

He smiles.

The skin slowly knits itself back together before my eyes.

Cyrus lunges again but the vampire catches his wrist and twists until bone bursts through his skin.

"Cyrus!" I scream with everything I have.

His agonizing cry fills the cathedral as his sword falls from his hand and clatters against the floor.

The vampire wraps one hand around Cyrus's throat and lifts him off the ground.

Cyrus claws at his grip with his good hand, his face twisting with pain as he struggles to breathe.

No..." I whisper.

Before my mind can even grasp what's happening, the vampire drives his free hand straight through Cyrus's chest.

My entire body goes numb.

I watch through my tears as Cyrus's body jerks violently, his mouth opening in a silent scream.

Blood gushes down the vampire's arm, soaking Cyrus's clothes before dripping all over the floor.

"CYRUS!"

His mother's cry echoes through the cathedral, followed by his sister's screams.

But I can't tear my eyes away from the vampire.

Slowly, he pulls his hand free. Resting in his blood-soaked palm, still twitching with a faint, dying beat, is Cyrus's heart.

"No..." I whisper again, shaking my head slowly.

The vampire glances down at the heart in his hand with nothing but contempt.

"Pathetic," he says coldly, letting it slip from his fingers.

It hits the marble floor with a sickening thud, then without hesitation, he crushes it beneath his boot.

Freed from the vampire's grip, the man I love collapses to the floor, landing in a pool of his own blood.