The Vampires #1: Alaric and Faina

Chapter 12 (Alaric): Chaos

Copyright © 2024 by GroveltoHEA

I looked at myself in the mirror as I tightened my tie then smoothed down my lapels. Normally, Faina would be right in front of me, fussing over my appearance. She loved me in suits and the last-minute, final adjustments were her right and domain, she claimed.

There. Now you're perfect. How in the world did you ever manage before me, Alaric?

She meant it as a joke, but the truth was, I had no idea how I'd lived my life before Faina. I wanted to pull my wife into me until I was overflowing with her, every last atom of my being saturated with this woman I would love into eternity.

My Faina. The only woman who could make me burn, turn my eyes red, make me lose control. Vampires were known for their control, their calm, their ability to remain unfazed. It's why we excelled in business, in medicine, in law. We kept our heads when others lost themselves in emotions.

I smiled briefly at that bit of irony, faced with the very distinct possibility of losing my head.Last night, before I'd lowered my mouth to Faina's neck, she'd looked at me, those golden eyes of hers so pained, so troubled I could barely look at them.

"Alaric," she whispered so our audience of thugs couldn't hear, "I won't be asking for your head tomorrow."

It probably won't make a difference. I may lose it anyway, my love.

Not for anything would I have spoken that aloud to my bride. Instead, I'd thanked her, not wanting to worry her, not wanting to tell her that what I had done could very well result in a death sentence for me, regardless of her wishes. I knew what our community was whispering about me, knew what her own father believed since we'd had a few more discussions while I was still in chains over the last month. I hoped the rumors circulating hadn't reached Faina, but I had no doubt some concerned gossip may have told her. In the immediate aftermath of my confession about the four times with Daylin, Faina hadn't been thinking clearly and then the babies had superseded everything else. I wasn't sure if she'd yet done the math and worked it out. Her father certainly had. He was convinced I was lying and hiding much more than I'd confessed to, and it was one of the reasons he was coming at me hard.

My phone buzzed, telling me the limo was here to take me to court. Looking at myself one last time in the mirror, I walked out and got into the backseat, my lawyer already inside the limo so we could go over some last minute notes before we had to present ourselves for court. All too quickly, we were pulling up to the courthouse and I hoped Faina was holding up well. I had insisted her doctors monitor her closely during the proceedings.

Her protein levels were still what doctors considered unstable -- one day they would be twice as high as the previous day, the next days three times as high, the next four times lower. But she and the babies were doing well, and I couldn't help keeping my hand over the slight swell of her belly when I fed from her, craving that connection with our babies almost as much as I craved my connection with Faina. I treasured those brief moments with her and the twins every day -- they were all that kept me sane.

We walked into the courtroom, an imposing place of heavy, dark woods, intricate carvings and ancient art. There were three tables at the front of the courtroom. Beyond those tables, on a raised podium, was the long bench for the Twelve Families.

My table was in the middle, Faina's to the right of mine and Daylin's to the left, each of us sitting with our legal counsel.

The courtroom gallery behind us was packed since divorces were not that common in our society, and given the names involved in the case, it was a guaranteed draw for curiosity seekers. We remained seated as eleven of the Twelve families filed in, my father-in-law and Daylin's father among them.