1 Blood Wedding

Blood and death had always been the center of a Vulkarin's celebration.

The skulls of the fallen becoming more adornments to the throne, their blood used as ink to pen down the historic event.

The more blood that was shed, the more paintings that would be drawn, the more stories that would be written, the more memorable the celebration.

Blood and death had always been the center of a Vulkarin's celebration, and today's wedding would be of no exemption.

Every Tribe knew this, and despite how prepared they were to fight against whatever came at them, they hoped not to be the source of today's writing materials or worse, become history themselves.

No one wanted to end up like the witches. Existed once, now forever gone by a single order, all because they had angered the Dragon King. What they did exactly to warrant such punishment, till date, no one knew.

The music boomed against the thick, high, golden walls of the Throne Hall.

Harps, trumpets, flutes, violins and drums. All in a wonderful harmony.

Yet as melodious as the music was, it couldn't dissolve the tension that grew thick in the air with every passing moment, instead it seemed to set a pace for it, becoming higher and higher, calling more unto the looming slaughter.

The instrumentalists trembled slightly, as they plastered a smile on their faces, while they planned out an escape route in their heads, for when things would finally go south. An escape route they knew would eventually be of no use.

It was no news that the Tribes had no love lost in between them, each as powerful, as possessive and as greedy for power as the other. The only reason why the dragon ruled them all was because whatever they were, the dragons were everything and worse.

Brutal. Merciless. And quick to violence.

The sight of blood gave them a maddening rush that even the Vampires couldn't understand, and the aura of death, always pleased that feral beast that lived within them.

The mere sight of the throne that the King sat gallantly upon and the crown he had on his head, were painful reminders of what would literally become of them if they were ever to rise up against the Dragon Tribe again.

It was an eerie promise, a silent threat.

The dragons had not gone unscratched from the battle that had put them right on top. They had lost a handful of warriors and the King had lost an eye.

That was all!

Not a finger more.

The music increased, raising to the top of the roof, the chandeliers vibrating slightly above from the tempo that grew higher and higher, till it all finally came to an abrupt end, at the same time the tall doors were thrown open, revealing to everyone, the Princess they had all been waiting for.

At the sight of the apple of his eye, the King stood up with a smile, walking down the stairs and all the way across the aisle, to his daughter, his son following behind.

The music started again, slower this time and more quiet.

They all stood up, bowing their heads slightly in respect as the King passed by them, before looking to the door with envious eyes, at the Princess that was adorned in pure gold. One piece of her jewelry could each feed a good part of the Tribes' population for more time than they would like to admit.

"My darling Kitzel." His voice was the warmest. Holding his daughter's face in his hands, his eye filled with love and adoration that he had ever showed to only her. She was his everything, the last thing his mate had left behind. A breathing reminder of her. "It is time. Are you ready?"

She looked past her father, to her mate that was waiting at the end of the aisle, then back at her Father with a smile.

"More than I'll ever be." She slipped her hand into her father's, interlocking it by the elbow.

Then they started walking up the aisle together. They had only gotten halfway, when a scream suddenly rang out from outside the hall, blending with the loud music inside that had, moments ago, switched to a fast dramatic pace.

Kitzel's green eyes widened slightly at that, her free hand curling into fist by her side as she tried to quicken her pace in an unnoticeable way, but the screams got louder and the person shouting bursted through the opened doors.

"The Princess! Someone help me, the Princess is dying! The Prince--" her voice trailed off, as her eyes that shone with horror, fell on the Princess who stood tall and straight, her hand interlocked with her Father's. "Princess Kitzel?"

"Alora." The Prince walked down to the woman, questioning her as to why she had interrupted the wedding ceremony, reminding her that the consequences of this was death, but he spoke in the dragon's language and the rest of the Tribes only became more agitated by the conversation they had little or no understanding of.

*"I saw her, fallen in the bathroom, I swear on my dragon!"

The Prince turned his gaze to his sister and she straightened up under his narrowed gaze, looking at him with equal confusion and a subtle smile that always had a place on her face, no matter the situation.

"What sought of nonsense is this, Alora? I didn't expect this from you." The King said in the language they all could understand and visible signs of relief passed over the Tribe's faces. "Seize her!"

The guards hands fell on her, as they wasted no time in dragging her out.

"Your Majesty, please!"

Rage lit in the Princess's eyes. "I always knew you wanted Halec for yourself, Alora, but this is too much."

"No!" Alora breath, desperately looking around for support. "No, I don't understand what is going on but I'm telling the truth!"

The King held up his hand, no longer wanting to hear her excuses. She had angered his daughter, she no longer had a right to mercy.

"You will be executed for your crime once the ceremony is over." To the guards, he motioned. "Take her away."

"I'm telling the truth, your Majesty! Please, spare me! I saw the Princess, she was bleeding. Kitzel, tell them. You were dy---" she was finally dragged out of the hall, her voice becoming nothing but a distant echo that kept fading away.

The King wanted to continue with the ceremony but his gaze fell upon the Tribe leaders who bowed quickly in fear, and his fists curled by his sides and he threw out an order.

"Search the Castle for intruders, kill them on sight!"

Some guards rushed out of the hall, with the Prince leading them. Soon enough a bell was rung from a distance away. In no time the gates would be shut, no one would be able to leave or come in, until the King said otherwise.

"I want to get married now." The Princess gritted out, eyeing the door the Prince and the guards had just gone out through.

"Kitzel, but we must first--"

"I don't care, I want to get married to my mate now."

The King was taken aback by the interruption. This was new. Before he had time to question her impatience, she took a step forward, but her movement had been unsteady and she had crumbled into his arms that he had quickly thrown open to catch her.

"Are you alrig--" his voice cut off at the pain that jammed into him, from the sharp blade that cut through his skin and sank deep within the left side of his stomach.

His arms tightened around his daughter, looking down at the face that had only ever looked at him with adoration and love, but now held hate, disgust and pent up rage that he couldn't understand, as they glimmered with tears.

"For. The. Coven." Her voice was a hiss, a way he had never heard it before, turning into blades and slashing through his skin. Cutting deep.

He glared upon the understanding of her words, pushing her out of his arms, immediately stumbling to his feet from the weakness that took over him as he pulled the dagger out, blood spilling down his white robe.

"Seize her!"

Kitzel's hand fumbled through her gown, reaching quickly for a tiny bottle within it and draining the last of it's content, as firm hands gripped her, painfully yanking her hands apart, making the bottle crash and break against that spotless ground.

Just at that moment, the Prince rushed in, casting a glance to his injured father, before his hands curled around the Princess throat and he lifted her up so that her legs dangled in the air, her hands clawing against his hold.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" His claws dug slightly into her throat, his eyes flashing red, his dragon coming to surface for vengeance, as conflicting feelings raced through his veins.

More murmurs filled the hall, the music had stopped a lot time ago, the instrumentalists fruitlessly trying to make a run for it in a way that they wouldn't be noticed.

"I am Ingriz, daughter of the High Priestess, and this is only the beginning." Her voice was choked and forced, air leaving her lungs as his grip around her tightened. Her gaze lifted to the Tribe leaders who were now on their guards than ever before.

"We are coming for you. All of you!" She ended with a crackle, a mad laugher, bubbling from deep within her throat as black blood oozed out from her mouth, dripped down her nose, and ran down her cheeks like tears, while she changed her form into who she really was.

The Prince went still, his grip loosening around her as she slipped to the floor. Groaning in pain and laughing in satisfaction of the chaos, as people rushed to the King who had now fallen to the floor, his wound not healing like it was supposed to.

The Prince stilled with shock, everything blurred into the background in his mind, except the witch, that had just sparked the matebond in him, when she had changed bodies.

He was torn. Absolutely conflicted.

In the next moment though, everything changed, two people breath their last and rest was absolute chaos.

This Vulkarin's celebration became the most memorable so far, proving that it didn't need so much bloodshed for a celebration to be historic, all it needed was the right bloodshed.

Like that of a dragon King and a crazy witch that just might be the Prince's mate.