The Final Bride of Dracula

Chapter Seven

A month later.

Alandra frowned, her lips pressed in a tight line. Marshca was dressing her for dinner with Dracula. She wished to rip off this ridiculous dress, run away and hide.

She was furious, all she did was eat, wandered the halls

(accompanied by Edmund and Marshca of course.) And be ridiculously dressed.

She was a damn doll here.

Alandra wanted to go home, light this place on fire, and rejoin her people. Her crew probably sailed off with out her.

She was once a pirate, a well known one too.

Each year she would dock and visit home, keeping the supernatural under control before returning to the sea.

A sigh blew past her lips.

"I know you hate it here." The blonde vampire whispered.

"Dracula, is a kind man if you make the effort to know him."

"I don't want to know him."

Marshca stopped fixing her hair, her ivory hands rested on her shoulders. "Please, just try. Lady Alandra, don't give up."

With that she said no more. Give up on what? Her frivolous task to escape?

Learn to love this Dracula?

Alandra had no idea.

_________

Time for dinner had rolled around, with the chime of the great grandfather clock Edmund and Marshca led her to the dining hall.

She took her seat, she waited for Dracula to arrive.

She heard him round the corner and saw him lean in the doorway.

"Why the long face?" He asked.

She didn't respond, but frowned deeper and took a drink of her wine.

She heard him walk behind her, he stopped right behind her chair.

"Do tell me? Won't you?"

She folded her hands in her lap.

"I want to leave."

He groaned. "Of course you do." Vladimir Dracula walked to his seat directly across from hers. He took his seat and studied her face.

"Why?"

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe because I'm trapped here. I have nothing to do, the days blur together in a long sense of boredom. I don't want to be here. You stole me away only to keep me locked away." She said fire behind each word.

She saw him set his jaw, and he took in a deep breath through his nose.

"You are mine-"

"THE HELL I AM!" She yelled slaming her fist on the table.

"Watch your tone!"

"I will not!" Alandra said furious. "Go ahead! Get rid of me God damn it!"

Her breathing was heavy and she glared him down.

His blue eyes were as cold and emotionless as ice. He stood, she could see him ready to bubble over the surface. He was angry, but wasn't about to let her see that.

Alandra wanted to get it over already, she wanted to get in a fist fight. She wanted there to be pain and blood. She couldn't care less if she lost her life. This game of words infuriated her to no end.

Realising she wasn't going to get anymore of a reaction from him she stormed off.