"What am I even doing here...?" Ambrose grumbled to himself in a corner of the crowded room. Nikolai had said he was welcome, but Ambrose knew Vampires, even those of the Forebearer army, were not truly welcome around other creatures of the Lore. He sighed heavily, wondering if it would be terribly rude to trace home at this very moment.
A loud crashing sound attracted his attention and his gaze landed on a pair of women seemingly wrestling on the floor. The one on the bottom was yanked up by her shoulders by a towering Lykae. Lachlain, King of the Lykae, held the woman by her shoulders.
Ambrose's eyes were drawn to the woman as she struggled to free herself from the Lykae's grip. He watched her, fascinated. Nothing in the last few centuries of his life had interested him as much as this one struggling female. After mumbling something in her ear, Lachlain released the striking woman. She stormed off through the crowd, all eyes following her as she made her way across the room, pausing to nod at the witch, Mariketa and her mate Bowen. She stepped outside through the heavy oak doors and Ambrose felt inclined to follow.
He traced to the area right before the doors, rather than making his way through the crowded room. Slipping out quietly, he stepped outside into the cool evening air. He looked around, surveying the green gardens of the property; an apple orchard visible in the distance.
Then he saw her. She was beautiful, he noted. Her brown hair fell gently down her back in soft looking waves as she stared up at the starry sky. He approached he quietly, until he was nearly beside her. She looked back at him.
All at once the world seemed to come alive; his heart began to beat in his chest for the first time in nearly four centuries. He inhaled deeply, his lungs taking in the chilled night air. He stared at her in complete amazement. This woman was his bride. She made him live again. He was so stunned he continued to stare at her, saying nothing.
She gave him a look of disgust. "Could you find somewhere else to stare with that eerie gaze, Leech?" She said glaring at him.
He awakened from his trance-like state. "L-leech…?" He stared at her open-mouthed. His bride had just insulted him in the worst way. He and all forebearers hated being compared to the filthy Vampires of the Horde.
"Yes, do you understand English, Vampire?" She growled. "I speak a dozen other languages if you don't." She glared at him.
"You speak so coldly." He said, staring at her. "My heart has begun to beat again….for one such as you?" Of all the brides, he had been given a cold Lykae woman.
"Beat?...For me..?" She stared at him in shock. "No no no no no." She said. "I am not a god damned bride!" She shook her head fiercely. "Stop looking at me like that!"
"You are mine. I am sure of that." Ambrose said, even as his dreams of a sweet, well -tempered bride were shattered by this beautiful creature.