The hall shimmered with candlelight, every corner draped in silks and flowers. Anticipation filled the air as guests gathered for the ceremony. Iman stood radiant, her gown flowing like moonlight, her heart racing as she waited for Lucien.
Layla adjusted her dress nervously, her eyes flicking toward Dorian. He caught her gaze, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. As the crowd moved toward the altar, he stepped closer, his voice low and teasing.
"You look breathtaking tonight," he whispered.
Layla's cheeks flushed, but her smile faltered. "Funny… you said something like that to Iman. You told her you'd burn the world for her."
Dorian tilted his head, smirking. "Ah, so you were listening. Jealous, Layla?"
Her eyes narrowed, voice trembling with both hurt and desire. "How could I not be? You spoke like she was the only one who mattered. And now you stand here, complimenting me as if those words meant nothing."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice until it was a husky whisper. "I said what she needed to hear. But you… you're the one who makes me lose control."
Before she could reply, he suddenly pulled her into a quiet corridor, away from the laughter and music. The shadows wrapped around them, isolating them from the world. He pressed her back against the wall, his hand sliding to her waist, fingers lingering with deliberate teasing.
Layla gasped, her jealousy flaring again. "You can't just play with words, Dorian. You can't make me feel like I'm second to her."
His eyes gleamed with mischief, but his tone softened. "Second? No, Layla. You're the fire I can't put out."
Her breath caught, her heart pounding against her chest. The jealousy that had burned inside her twisted into something hotter, sharper. And before she could resist, his lips claimed hers in a heated kiss — fierce, consuming, and secret.
When he finally pulled away, his smirk lingered, his thumb brushing her waist one last time. "Later," he promised, his voice dripping with temptation, before leading her back toward the ceremony.
The guests hushed as Dorian stepped forward, now standing as the officiant. His voice carried through the hall, solemn yet edged with his usual charm.
"Lucien," he began, his gaze flicking briefly toward Layla before settling on the groom, "do you vow to protect, cherish, and bind yourself to Iman — through mortal breath and eternal night?"
Lucien's crimson eyes never left hers. "I do."
Dorian turned to Iman, his tone softer but no less powerful. "Iman, do you vow to walk beside Lucien — through every storm, every dawn, and every shadow of eternity?"
Iman's lips curved into a tender smile. "I do."
Dorian's smirk returned, though his voice rang with authority. "Then by vow of night and bond of blood, I declare you united. You may kiss your bride."
Lucien wasted no time. He pulled Iman close, his kiss fierce and unyielding, claiming her before all. The hall erupted in joy, but his embrace lingered, possessive, as though the vows were not enough until he made her truly his.
When night fell, Lucien led Iman away from the celebration. In their bedroom, the world grew quiet, leaving only the two of them. He held her close, his voice a whisper against her skin. "If you truly want forever, I must give you eternity."
Iman's heart raced, but her answer was certain. "I'm ready, Lucien. Make me yours completely."
Lucien cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. For a moment, his possessiveness softened into awe. "Do you know what this means? Once I do this, you will never be the same. You will walk in eternal night, with me."
Her smile was certain. "I'm not afraid. Because I'll walk it with you."
His lips brushed her neck, lingering, tasting the pulse beneath her skin. She shivered, torn between fear and desire, but her trust in him was absolute.
The bite came sharp, a flash of pain that made her gasp. Fire rushed through her veins, burning, consuming, transforming. Her vision blurred, her body trembling as the mortal world slipped away.
Iman's thoughts spiraled — fear, surrender, then a sudden clarity. She felt the shadows embrace her, the night itself whispering secrets only immortals could hear. And through it all, Lucien's arms never let go.
When her eyes opened again, they gleamed crimson, alive with power. The world was sharper, darker, filled with colors and sounds she had never known.
Lucien gazed at her, awe and possessiveness mingling in his voice. "You are mine, and I am yours. Forever. No one will ever touch you, no one will ever take you from me."
Iman smiled, her voice steady and powerful. "Through eternity, we will walk as one. My heart, my soul… they belong to you."
Lucien kissed her then, fierce and unyielding, sealing the bond of blood and love. And in that moment, the wedding night became the birth of eternity.