Vlad The Impaler (VAMPIRE-ELF)

3. First Meetings And Foreign Places

As he viewed the beautiful creature now lying on his king-sized custom made bed, the Count had a hard time breathing.

Disbelief, awe, gratitude, love and possessiveness were a few of the choice emotions that threatened to rock him off balance. He had never felt more unworthy as he did in that moment, looking at such untainted purity.

Dracula had always been a proud vampire, conscious of the fact that he was the oldest being on Earth, above all those that served him, both in physical and supernatural strength.

But in the face of this harmless, naïve and defenceless girl; he felt foolish and clumsy; his throat dry and his palms sweating. Definitely not his usual confident self. He didn't know how he would conduct himself around her, what she would expect of him, whether he could live up to those expectations.

He didn't know how to deal with the living except killing, torturing and defiling them. He intended to do neither of those things. Not to his bride; the only source of light in his damned existence.

In the many years he had lived, the Count had met a lot of women of different races, colouring and height, but none could be considered even half as beautiful as his bride. Erinna had a rare beauty that none other possessed. Her features were tinged with a fragility and innocence that made him immediately want to protect her, even from himself.

Her hair was black glossy waves, splayed on his pillow lushly. Her pale skin, rosy lips and symmetrical nose were aligned to give the most beautiful face that the universe had ever conjured. Suddenly the two thousand years that he had waited for her became mere numbers and ceased to matter.

The elf princess stirred in her sleep before her eyes fluttered open, startling the Count. She had the greenest, most beautiful and most expressive eyes he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. He gazed into their child-like innocence and was humbled.

She blinked, regarding him like a particularly complex puzzle she was trying to solve. It took only a second for realisation to flood her features. She had probably recognised him.

"I know you," she confirmed his thoughts. Her voice had a calming quality and brought to mind the peaceful waters of a spring.

"I've been told of your visions," he replied truthfully.

Of course the magic the Elves had webbed around her had prevented him from getting a full detailed account of his bride, but every spell had loopholes. And he had managed to exploit a few to learn about Erinna, even as her father had tried to make her nonexistent to the world.

Besides, it had been no real challenge, the young princess could not even control her own gifts and her telepathy had been all over the place that it had been so easy to pick on some of her thoughts and read them at his pleasure.

"By Melissa?" She asked innocently.

"You're not the only one with a few tricks up your sleeve, angel."

He could see that she did not appreciate his last remark. But if her nose was going to wrinkle up in that cute way every time he annoyed her, he might just do it every opportunity he got.

💀💀💀💀💀

Erinna did not really know what to make of the unnaturally beautiful creature before her.

He was the man from her visions, the face that had haunted her sleep and dreams. Yet this moment couldn't be mistaken for a dream, this was really happening. He was breathtakingly beautiful, in every sense of the word. The dreams had been pale imitations.

He had shoulder-length jet black hair that for some bizarre reason, her fingers itched to touch. His eyes were cold, dark and emotionless. There was something astute and imposing about him that even the very shadows in the darkened room seemed to crawl away from him. He had aristocratic vibes rolling off him in waves; a man used to being in command. His features were foreboding and fascinating.