Promised to a Gargoyle King but the Werewolf King wants us.

Prologue - The Grand Engagement

The event was magnificent.

Great stone pillars arched across the long soft red carpet, crisscrossed with little lanterns no wider than a pen width, all of them dancing and swaying in the light summer breeze. They cast the a warm glow across the path as the glittering and elite of the paranormal world arrived at the Church. No ancient medieval dresses for this elite group of men and women, no, they were in diamonds, in Armani, in Versace, Prada, in designer clothing that wouldn't look out of place on the red carpet of Hollywood's award ceremonies. They were the elite and beautiful of all worlds. And like Hollywood's award ceremonies, crowds stood around the edges, respectfully keeping their distance while at the same time trying to get the attention of the elite Paranormal. They all ignored the onlookers, the Commoners, sticking to their own Elite company while sipping various fluids of their taste.

The great wooden doors to the Church remained closed. 

They were waiting for two very special guests. Guests that the Gargoyle King himself was now waiting for. He had been waiting for them for a very long time.

It was when a specific car drew up though, lined with gold, that the crowd went quiet. This was it. This was the moment they'd waited for. The door opened.

A little foot popped out. Then another. A little girl jumped out, five years old, in a perfectly white dress that set off her sapphire blue eyes, her face framed by perfect golden ringlets, and diamonds sparkling around her neck and in her ears. She curtsyed, and as if rehersed, a great burst of applauce rang around the open air from both the Elite and the Common.

Then she was joined by another little girl, identical. Sort of. The other little girl did not curtsy. She clung to her sister, petrified as another round of applause started, and then turned and got back in the car. 

There was laughter, and a man got out, holding onto the little girl. The two of them, one skipping ahead happily, the other hiding her head in her father's shoulder, were carried towards the great wooden doors as the crowds parted respectfully. 

Some bowed. Some curtsied. Some didn't. It didn't matter.

The great Church doors swung open, fireworks exploded above the Church, and the guests were welcomed in. 

The inside of the Church was equally magnificent. Well over a thousand years old, it was tall, arched, with great marble floors and candles from floor to ceiling setting off the crystal work that sent thousands of rainbows upon the exquisite marble work. 

The great Gargoyle King opened his arms, as the skipping girl ran to him, and then the other girl was pushed gently towards him. When she shook her head and held on tighter, her father led her up, trying to detach her and make her stand beside her sister.

"You promiced, Constance, don't be a spoiled little brat." He hissed. "Stay put, stay quiet, till I tell you you can move."

"I don't wanna." She whined, shoved hard at the stage, nearly stumbling on the  silk dress. She stood up as her father backed off, staring at the crowds of scary people, her heart racing as she tried to not wet herself. Her daddy would be so angry if she wet herself. Where was her nanny? She saw her, suddenly, right at the edge, hidden from the pretty people behind a screen.

A hand closed over her wrist, scaring her, and the big man with grey skin held up both her hand and her sister's hand.

"I swear, to all those before me, that from now until my death, I will remain faithful and loyal to Constance and Krystal. I pledge my faithfulness and loyalty, in exchange for theirs, and pledge to marry both upon their nineteenth birthday." His voice boomed out so loud that Constance's legs almost gave way, and she felt his hand hold onto her wrist harder, as he held up one of her hands. Maybe he was afraid she'd run, because she was, because he did it to her first. She saw this glowing mark on his thumb, he put it on his lips somehow, and then he was kissing her palm.

It was really hot. She squealed, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to not cry as it burnt her. Then it was over and she was let go of. Constance stared at her wrist, tears pricking in her eyes, as she stared at the big golden burn in her hand. Something, some kind of picture, but it faded away so fast that she couldn't see it through her tears.

Her sister squealed and she knew that he'd done it to her sister too.

"Let no one else dare touch them. My brides." A hand was clasping around her wrist again, and then an arm around her waist, her and her sister lifted up onto each of his shoulders. There was a great cheer, people clapping, cheering, and she stared over the crowd as she tried so hard to make her pee stay in. Constance couldn't help it though. She knew it'd make everyone angry, because she was sitting on the big important man, but-

He noticed pretty slow. When he noticed, he dropped her, which hurt, but not as much as what her father would do if he caught her. So Constance ran for it, the back of her dress all wet, the smell of her pee in her nostrils as she ran for the safety of her nanny. 

She didn't want to be his bride anyway. He smelt like dirt and stone.

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A/N Thanks for peeking! :) I don't know why the last two stories have a pee joke in them, but there you go. :D Let me know if you want to know more and vote away if you like!

 Dedicated to Musiq4lyf for her incredibly important and painstaking research into bad Wattpad titles.