He felt her presence as she approached, before she even appeared.

His canines unashamedly extended, becoming sharp little daggers that grazed his bottom lip, as the life pumping through her veins called out to them. The scent of her blood was strong and intoxicating, laced with a rare flavour he could not place, not when it was so distracting and nearly driving him crazy.

Hunger and bloodlust flooded his system and he had to clench his fists, his pallid nails digging into his palms, to stop himself from leaping at her and ripping into the juicy flesh of her throat.

A soft knock sounded at the heavy African mahogany door of his study. He flicked his hand, telekinetically opening the door from his stuffed high back chair, behind the imported desk that adorned his primitively styled study.

He hurriedly and forcefully retracted his canines; he didn't want to scare his bride.

The Count stopped all action and zeroed in on his bride when she finally came into view. Awe rocked him off balance and the urge to fall at her feet to beg to worship at her alter for the rest of his eternal life was strong.

The dress moulded her provocative, generously curvy body to perfection, accentuating every breathtaking feature. Her hair was in a complicated updo that left her long fair neck exposed to his eager and itching canines. He bit his tongue to keep the rebellious things under control.

Moving at vampire speed, he appeared at her side in a millisecond. She blinked, a bit startled, he guessed.

"You look beautiful," he told her honestly.

"Is that why I am here? To be a trinket for you?"

He frowned, not pleased by her sarcasm. He understood kidnapping her might have been a bit extreme, but he was trying to make amends.

"You are here to be my queen, I already said that. If you wish to degrade yourself to a mere ornament, that is up to you."

She closed her eyes, as if asking for patience. When she opened them, she looked calmer, the storm that had been brewing in them temporarily banked.

"Does my choice in this matter at all? I don't want to be your bride." Her voice was soft, deliberately imploring as if being level-headed would make it possible to reason with him.

He stepped closer, his lip brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke and his hand on the small of her back. He felt her violent shudder but she did not move back. So strong.

"You have only seen my unpleasant side, love. Sometimes I have to be cruel to get things done but I assure you, I can be a very generous vampire," he murmured in her ear, then let his lips move down to brush against her jaw.

He felt her breath quickening and her blood pulsing faster through her body as her panic rose. It reached a breaking point and she pushed him away from her. He allowed it.

"Does being generous include letting me go? Ever?"

His jaw hardened.

"No."

She nodded, as if she had known this all along.

"Did you like your dress?" He changed the subject. There was no use on lingering on unpleasant topics. Erinna would come to accept her new reality as his bride, sooner or later.

"I do not think anything associated with you is on my 'like' list, Count Dracula."

He roughly grabbed her upper arm, pulling her to his side with very little finesse.

She was trying his patience and he would not tolerate it any longer.

"I love your courage but you will learn to speak to me with respect."

"Respect is for those who deserve it. You are a coward. You knew you could not win me on equal ground so you stole me." She glared at him, her green eyes spitting fire.

"You have the wrong vampire if you think fancy words will stir some guilt." He told her softly.

She opened her mouth, obviously to throw more sharp words at him but Vlad silenced her with a hand.

"Enough. I do not want to hear it anymore. When I give you a compliment you accept it and move on, not insult me for it."

His voice was deep and low, ladden with dark intent. It vibrated in the empty hallway and throughout Erinna's body.

The truth was he terrified her but she was too angry to realize that antagonizing an archaic vampire renown for his penchant for killing was not the best of ideas.

"I do not take my orders from you," she spat out, glaring at him stubbornly.

"That's where you're wrong, darling. As Countess, everyone in my kingdom will bow down to you, but it is I who is the master."

His words possessed a finality that urged her to bend her will to his but she would not be Erinna Ellington of the Ellingsdale Elves if she did that.

"I will never marry you," she vehemently stated, glaring daggers at him though he didn't even flinch.

"I admire the fire in your spirit but I do not tolerate disrespect, even from you. Get a hold on yourself."

His voice was now icy cold, making Erinna feel as if she had been dropped in the middle of the Pacific on a lonely winter night.

Dracula loved Erinna, for heaven's sake it was as natural as breathing.

But his bride needed to learn to curb her vituperative tongue. She could extend her claws to any of his subjects as long as she knew who the ultimate king and master was.

Of course he was only a Count but not for long. Everyone knew he would be king; he just needed his bride first, as was tradition. Dracula was a very traditional vampire.

Technically, he was lord of all vampires, but before he got his bride he could not get the title king. It was only a matter of time now though.

"What are you going to do to me? Impale me like everyone who rubs you the wrong way?"

So the books had told her of his standard way of execution? At least they had that part right.

"Don't give me ideas."

His patience was wearing out. Erinna was a very exhausting individual, both physically and mentally. Of course he was not going to impale his bride but 4000 years was a long enough time to enable one to come up with the best methods of torture and execution. Especially if it was one's favourite pastime activity. She needed to stop testing him. It was treading on dangerous territory. Thin ice.

"If you're going to do it why don't we just get it over and done with? Because I. Am. Not. Marrying. You."

Erinna had just finished the sentence when a hand connected with her cheek; the pain making her flesh sizzle. The force of the slap knocked her off her feet to the ground and brought burning tears to her unsuspecting eyes.

Her green feline eyes shined like emeralds with unshed tears; but she refused to let them fall.

"Go and have dinner, I will have mine elsewhere. We will talk tomorrow when you're ready to be mature. Don't try anything funny."

Before she could react, the Count vanished into thin air like before. She was still on the ground when two leather-boot clad feet appeared in her line of vision.

"It doesn't look like he likes you very much."

Erinna raised her head to meet the owner of the mocking voice.

She came face to face with a beautiful and slender woman. She wore black leather pants and a matching jacket that showed off her exquisite beauty. Erinna could tell she was a vampire and somehow her presence made Erinna wary.

"Who are you?" She decided to ask.

"Oh, forgive my manners, Countess. Ingrid Lamaar at your service," the woman said with a mocking bow. Erinna did not like the woman's attitude. It oddly reminded her of the Count too much.

"I'm Princess Erinna, don't call me Countess."

"Don't tell me what to do you little whore," Ingrid sneered.

"Excuse me?"

"I know all about your little game. Playing all hard to get when we all know the Count just has to look at you for you to open your scrawny little legs," Ingrid ventured on, undeterred.

Erinna was left dumbfounded by the other woman's vulgarity. How could any self-respecting woman bring herself to say such crude words? She did not even know just what she had done to warrant such degrading insults.

"I do not know what you're talking about," she said as calmly as she could, struggling to remain collected.

"Cut the princess crap already, we both know what a conniving manipulative little liar you are. How else would you have convinced the Count to risk his own life and every vampire's by entering in a doomed union with you?"

To say she was shocked by the vampire's words would have been an understatement. Did Ingrid even know how much Erinna would give to escape the Count' evil clutches?

"I will die before I marry your Count. I am not stupid; I know the consequences of a vampire-elf union. Not that he is husband material."

Her voice was firm, strong and stern. She had taken enough from the rude vampire. She would never consider tying herself to a creature like Dracula for the rest of her life. What sort of a man hit the woman they were proposing to?

"You would never capture his attention for long anyway; the Count likes his women experienced, not naïve little princesses waiting for a Prince Charming."

Erinna wanted to tell Ingrid that she had no desire whatsoever to capture their Count's attention and would do better safe and sound in her tower back in Ellingsdale but an idea popped into her mind. More like delayed realisation.

"Are you jealous?" She asked, fighting the urge not to laugh because if it was about the Count, Ingrid had definitely nothing to worry about there. She had not been joking when she said she would rather die first.

"Why would I be? The Count is mine anytime I want," boasted Ingrid.

"Then why don't you put a leash on your dog and tell him no means no?" Erinna glared daggers at Ingrid, taking out her on her.

"He is a vampire and welcomes any challenge. Just know as soon as he gets what he wants from you he will lose interest and you will end up in Death Town with every other foolish girl who thought she was the one, counting the hours to your death."

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