Hard to Say I Do, When I Don't

Mason sat in the throne room of the palace, waiting desperately for the sun to go down. He hated how he was trapped by its rays; it made him feel weak. Even stronger than his want to escape the palace walls was his desire to avoid his bride, who would be arriving any day.

He sighed, he didn’t believe something as trivial as a marriage could fix centuries of animosity. Besides, from what he understood lycans didn’t even believe in marriage. He shuttered at the thought of such savagery. They were all inbred freaks to him. The thought of marrying one … he shuttered again.

His father, Draegan, was pacing back and forth across the width of the room, his hands clenched tight behind his back. Mason studied his father as he made his passes. They both shared sleek, long black hair that his father pulled into a small pony tail, while Mason let it flow freely around his face. They shared a strong jaw and a square face. And of course, their eyes were the same, a glowing, vibrant red.

“She should be here by now.” His father mumbled as he paced.

Mason just rolled his eyes; he could care less if she showed up. Ever since the Fallen had intervened, his life had changed completely, and not all for the worst. His father was placed on the throne instead of his brother, making Mason a prince. But along with that title came this marriage for Mason.

Draegan’s pacing was irrupted by a vampire throwing open the doors and rushing toward the king.

“They’re here!” The messenger announced.

Draegan smiled at Mason and gestured for the messenger to leave. The king joined his son sitting on their respective thrones, beaming with delight, while Mason had a sour look.

“Why did he say ‘they’re’ here?” Mason asked, “Shouldn’t it just be that girl? Emily or Elizabeth or something...”

“Ember,” His father corrected, “And it doesn’t matter if she has a maid or someone along, she’s here, Mason! This means peace.” Draegan smiled at the very thought.

Mason scoffed, “I don’t understand why we’re even making peace with those inbred dogs, they’re completely useless and probably flee infested–”

“That is enough,” Draegan cut in, “Peace between our two races means no more deaths, on both sides. Besides, the Fallen decided this; no one would dare go against their orders.”

Mason groaned, but he understood his father’s reasons. He didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if someone went against the Fallen’s commands and he knew that vampires were still being killed by lycans, despite the Pack being in hiding.

“You will be respectful.” Draegan told his son as the doors opened and two lycans stepped into the throne room.