Inside the hall red and white tulle draped from the arches in the ceiling, and the tables were covered in heavy cream linens with red and white tulips on top. It was beautiful; it was perfect. It was how she wanted her mating ceremony to look. This didn’t feel like a ceremony meant for another woman. This had her flair, her and Dom’s color everywhere. It was theirs.
Felicity took a moment to nod at each side of the room acknowledging their acceptance of the mating. Then her eyes shot forward as if drawn to him, Dominic Blackmore, her Dom, her man.
He stood tall on a platform at the end of the hall. He wore a black suit. She could see the quality of the material. His eyes caressed her body as he took in her outfit, then he was shaking his head, a smile covering his lips. She started forward, her steps quick, and a flutter in her heart.
The drum tempo picked up. The entire room thrummed with the sound as it beat against the ears. Shirtless timpani drummers stood painted in ancient symbols of mating and love on either side of the room. She couldn’t get there fast enough. A brilliant smile lifted her face.
He didn’t wait either. Quite unceremoniously, he strode down to meet her partway then lifted her into his arms as his lips claimed hers in front of all. The audience gasped, chuckled, someone hooted—probably Beth.
Dom pulled back, the look gleaming in his eyes. She shivered. “Baby,” she said, helplessly.
He wore a cocky smile as he set her back down to her feet. Then he grabbed her hand and led her to the alter. The drumming came to a climax, ringing louder than ever, the tempo increasing. A woman wearing all white stepped forward. She had hair down past her waist; it was champagne colored with silver streaks from age. She still had a beauty to her though time had finally started to show in her face. She opened her arms and heavy, billowing sleeves billowed.
“Arise.”
At once the drums slammed down then stopped. The echo reverberated in the hall then faded in waves. The audience rose and took their seats.
Felicity soaked up every single moment of the ceremony. She recited her vows then Dominic did his, staring deep into her eyes as if trying to convince her soul the words were true. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t necessary. She already loved him more than anything. Then came the part she’d been waiting for like a lingering thought in the pack of her head.
The great priestess lowered her arms and addressed the hall. “Any who dare to challenge the male, Dominic Blackmoore, doth step forward now or forever abstain with cowardice.”
A long minute passed.
Dominic glanced around the crowd, eyes hard and challenging, daring someone to try something. He looked like he was ready to tear open his shirt, jump down from the altar, and beat someone to a bloody pulp if they interfered with this ceremony. Felicity hid a smile behind her hand.
“No challenges for the male have been made,” the priestess said. “Any who dare challenge the bruid, Felicity Shaw, doth step forward now or forever abstain with cowardice.”
Felicity turned and scanned the audience, her stomach tightening as she sought one face accompanied by fire-red hair. She didn’t have to search long. The hair shone first as the woman stood and then her face came into sight.
Helena Blackmoore, the former bruid of Dominic Blackmoore, strode forward in a gown worthy of a queen. The bottom half formed a goblet shape. Her waist looked several sizes too small due to the corset she wore under the fine gown. It gave her a curvy hourglass figure. The material shifted and swayed as she made her way towards the dais. Lace draped off the bottom hem, scratching the floor as she walked. Her hair was held atop her head in an intricate bundle of curls. A diamond-covered tiara held it all together; it sparkled under the lights.
Felicity had known this would happen, but she hadn’t been prepared for this. It was almost too much. Her lips twitched. Dom shot her a questioning look then started to grin. His stupid grin made her smile even bigger. Then the laughter came. There was nothing she could do about it. Here she was wearing clothes ready to fight to keep her man, and Helena came dressed as if she was attending a Renaissance fair.
Helena’s eyes snapped cold fire. “I challenge her.”
The crowd gasped with excitement, but Felicity only smiled. This time she’d been prepared.
“I accept.”
She started to make her way down the platform but Dominic grabbed her arm, pulled her in close. “You got this.”
It wasn’t a question. He believed in her. She told him she loved him and pulled him down for another kiss. She didn’t hurry it either, but kissed him to her heart’s content. When she pulled away she sent him a wink then strode toward her fiery haired nemesis.
Helena’s gaze tracked down Felicity’s body taking in her clothes. When she finished she didn’t smirk so much as glower. She looked positively wicked.
“You look ridiculous,” Helena said.
“Funny, I thought the same thing about you.”
Pretty blue eyes narrowed on her. Felicity shook her head. Just what had Dom seen in this woman aside from a pretty face on a pretty body? There had to have been some redeeming qualities. Felicity and Helena circled each other; one dressed for a fight, the other ready to waltz at a ball.
As Felicity circled Helena she realized she had no idea how to begin a fight. Did she reach in and go for the hair or maybe start with a punch? It didn’t matter though because Helena moved first. Felicity caught the glint of silver on her fingers as Helena lurched at her with the kind of speed that came from a long vampire life; a life much longer than Felicity had lived.
The slap came across Felicity’s face, hard enough to jerk her head to the side. People cried out and gasped but no one could do anything. Felicity’s cheek burned as blood surfaced to the angry area.
The burn felt too intense to come from just a slap though. Felicity cupped her cheek then sought Helena’s ring hand again. Her eyes narrowed at what she saw—silver rings. One on each finger. Helena had made her own vampire form of brass knuckles. She came here to win.
That cheating bitch.
Something hot and very angry came over Felicity as she straightened. Helena’s gaze flicked to the mark she’d left and she grinned like a hyena. Felicity took all that anger boiling inside her and leaped.
She slammed into Helena taking them both to the floor. Helena’s back made a nasty crunching sound as it hit first. Felicity pulled back her arm, made a fist, and let it fly. The complete and utter satisfaction that came with the sound of her fist connecting to the bitch’s face could only be described as elation. Never had anything felt as good as watching Helena’s lip bust open and blood dribble out.
They fought hard. Helena squirmed and pushed, but Felicity locked her legs around the woman’s waist and held on. Helena hissed sending the blood from her lip down her chin as she reached up and grabbed hold of Felicity’s hair. She pulled hard and strands tore. Felicity screamed as she smashed her hand on top of Helena’s to stop it.
Helena brought her other hand forward, the ring hand, and jabbed Felicity in the head. Helena didn’t really have the leverage to put power into the punch, but the rings sure burned like a son of a bitch.
Felicity jerked back and Helena took the opportunity to shove her backward sending her reeling. Felicity landed on her back and Helena leaped on top of her. Her face took a blow, then another as she scrambled to get her arms up between them to block her.
“He’s going to be mine! He’s always been mine.”
Felicity jerked her head left and right, dodging blows. The words did it. They snapped something raw and violent loose inside of her. “You wish.”
Felicity rocked her hips forward then thrust up and slammed her knees into Helena’s back. She went rolling forward, landing awkwardly on her belly, unable to really move or roll with that ridiculous dress she wore. Felicity stood, crossed to her, brought her leg back, and let it slam forward. The kick caught Helena’s stomach and spun her back around. The hoarse cry she let out made her feel a whole lot better.