Dracula Retold

The Wedding Night

Passion.

And something darker.

The taste of her skin beneath his lips, the warmth of her breath, the steady pulse of life coursing through her veins—it stirred an overwhelming hunger. A hunger not for love but for blood.

Catarina was whisked away by her maids, her cheeks flushed, her excitement palpable as they led her to the bridal chambers. Vlad stood frozen for a moment, the storm inside him threatening to burst forth. His mind clouded with the scent of her, the pulse of her life. He knew what came next—intimacy, the sacred consummation of their union—but he couldn't go to her like this.

Not with the bloodlust burning him alive.

Without a word, he turned and slipped out of the hall, unnoticed by his guests. He moved swiftly through the castle grounds, his body trembling with need. The night air was cool, but it did nothing to soothe the fire within him. He could still taste her. He could still hear her heartbeat.

His feet carried him far, into the dense forest, where the towering trees blocked the moonlight and silence wrapped around him like a shroud. His hands clenched at his sides, fangs lengthening against his will. He let out a growl, feral and broken, before lunging into the shadows.

He hunted mercilessly. Wolves, deer, anything that crossed his path. His fangs tore into their flesh, the blood hot and metallic, flooding his senses. One by one, he drained them, savoring the taste, hoping it would satisfy the primal hunger gnawing at his insides.

But it wasn't enough.

No matter how much he consumed, the fire wouldn't die. He drank until his stomach churned with the weight of it, until the corpses littered the forest floor. But it only dulled the edge of his need for her.

Panting, he stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving, the night eerily silent now. Blood dripped from his mouth, his hands. He stared at them, at the monster he was, knowing that this was the only way. If he wanted to be near her—touch her—without the fear of losing control, he had to do this.

A tremor ran through him as he remembered the feel of her lips, the way her body had leaned into his during the kiss. His heart, long thought dead, stirred in his chest with a strange warmth. It wasn't only hunger for her blood that drove him. It was something else. For a man without a heart, this was something terrifying.

He wanted her in every way. Wanted her touch, her love, her body. But he had never known how to love without pain, without darkness.

At last, when his hunger had been sated enough to face her without fear of tearing her apart, Vlad turned back toward the castle. He moved slowly now, the weight of what he had done pressing on him like chains. The blood on his hands was a reminder of who he truly was. A beast. A creature of the night.

But for her—for Catarina—he would try to be something more. He cleansed himself in the nearby creek, making sure no bloodstain was left on him.

As he approached the castle, the soft glow of candlelight from her chambers spilled into the night. His footsteps were silent as he climbed the stairs, each one bringing him closer to the woman who had, unknowingly, tethered him to the remnants of his humanity. He reached her door and hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle.

Inside, he could hear her soft breathing, the rustle of her gown as she moved. She was waiting for him.

He pushed the door open.

Catarina looked up, her eyes wide and expectant. She sat on the edge of the bed, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, her lips slightly parted in anticipation.