The Vampire's Court

Chapter 5- Somerset Estate

A fortnight had passed quickly. Morgan struggled internally with himself and rarely came out of his study, claiming he has business to attend. Truth be told, he was trying to track down any potential suitor that could thwart the Dukes plan. Surely he wouldn't compete for her hand if another also wanted it, or if he had enough competition.

The night of the ball at Somerset Estate was a spectacle to behold. Seraphine, resplendent in her exquisite blood red gown, felt a sense of freedom and confidence she had never known before. The dress, made of rich silk and velvet, hugged her curves in all the right places, its deep red hue complementing her porcelain skin and ginger hair perfectly. The gown was adorned with intricate black lace and delicate silver embroidery, shimmering in the candlelight like stars in the night sky.

Around her neck, she wore a delicate silver necklace with a small, gleaming ruby pendant, a gift from her father. Her ears were adorned with elegant silver earrings, shaped like tiny flowers, and her wrists were encircled with delicate silver bracelets, adorned with tiny gemstones.

Her fiery ginger hair was styled in an elegant updo, with loose curls framing her face and a few strategically placed strands framing her neck. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds in the candlelight, and her lips were painted a deep red, matching the color of her dress.

The Somerset Estate was a grand, sprawling mansion, its facade lit up like a fairy tale castle in the night. The ballroom was a marvel of Victorian architecture, with high ceilings, intricate moldings, and towering windows that seemed to stretch up to the heavens. The room was filled with the cream of society, all dressed in their finest attire, sipping champagne and dancing to the music of a live orchestra.

As Seraphine descended the staircase, all eyes turned to her, and she almost felt like a princess. She was unaware of the fate that awaited her, and her father's desperate attempts to change the course of events. For now, she was free to enjoy the night, to dance and laugh and admire whomever she pleased. And so, with a confident smile, she entered the ballroom, ready to take on the night.

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Across the ballroom, Dimitri's eyes narrowed, his gaze scanning the crowd with an air of impatience. "I expect you to point her out to me when you see her," he growled, his voice low and husky, "and if she's hideous, I'm setting this entire estate on fire." Withers nodded, privy to His Grace's temperamental outbursts by now, his eyes already scanning the room for the familiar flash of red hair.

And then, she appeared. Seraphine descended the staircase like a goddess, her blood red dress shimmering in the lighting. A hush fell over the crowd, and Dimitri's eyes locked onto her, his gaze burning with a glacial intensity.

Withers pointed discreetly, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, Your Grace," he whispered as he pointed at Seraphine at the top of the staircase.

Dimitri's eyes devoured Seraphine, his gaze roving over her body like a starving man. He was struck by the porcelain perfection of her skin, the fiery burn of her hair, and the lush curves of her figure. Her neck was long and slender, inviting his lips to trace its length. His fangs tinged under his lips as slightly salivated. Her shoulders were delicate, yet strong, and her waist was tiny— begging to be spanned by his hands.

But it was her eyes that truly captured him - emerald green, sparkling like gemstones in the candlelight. They shone with an inner light, a radiance that seemed to pierce what was left of his very soul.

Dimitri's attraction was instant, primal, and overwhelming. He felt a growl rise in his throat, a possessive urge to claim her as his own. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, to hold her close and ravage her in the nearby broom closet, imagining his hand on her throat to stifle her moans. He wanted to taste her lips, to feel her skin beneath his fingers, to claim her.