Vampire Brides

“Tell me, what are you doing in this castle?”

His voice was deep, cold, and commanding. The man stepped forward, and instinctively, Amelia took a step back. The fear that had once lingered at the edge of her thoughts now wrapped tightly around her chest, stealing the air from her lungs.

The warnings… the whispers, the tales she once dismissed as folklore, now stormed her mind like an unrelenting tempest.

Could they all be true?

“W-who are you?” she asked, her voice trembling, barely audible.

“That’s my question,” he replied, his gaze sharp and unwavering. “Who are you, and why have you entered my home?”

For centuries, no living soul had dared to cross the threshold of this cursed castle. And yet, tonight, this woman had walked in—either unaware or unconcerned by the price of curiosity.

Or perhaps… she truly didn’t know.

Griffon Xander narrowed his eyes. He knew every face in the nearby village, and hers was unfamiliar. A stranger. Maybe no one had warned her. Or maybe… fate had led her here.

Amelia clutched her small flashlight tightly, her fingers trembling. This wasn’t what she had imagined. She only wanted to see if the legends were true. But now, standing before this strange and mesmerizing man, she realized just how unprepared she truly was.

His eyes were a striking, unnatural blue. His cheekbones were sharp, his face like a statue carved from another time. He looked like an actor from an ancient opera, rehearsing alone beneath the moonlight.

His clothing belonged to no modern era. Woven with the nobility of the past, every thread spoke of a long-forgotten reign.

Could he truly be the noble from those old stories?

Or… merely a servant bound to the shadows of a curse?

His name was Griffon Xander—an immortal vampire who had resided in this castle for hundreds of years. A pure-blood aristocrat, the last heir of the once-mighty House of Xander.

Born of a Dracula father and a noble vampire mother in the 14th century, Griffon had no desire to pass down his legacy. Even with a fiancée waiting somewhere in the shadows of his past, he had sworn never to bring anyone else into his eternal night.

He had lived in solitude, imprisoned within these cold, stone walls. The world outside had changed—become cruel. He had seen how humans betrayed even their own kind—despite vampires once ruling New Orleans’ underground economy. Now, some vampires had begun killing humans, rebelling against their greed and thirst for domination.

“Th-this is your home?” Amelia stammered.

So, the rumors were true. A noble did live here. But why did he look like a ghost from a forgotten age?

Was he the master of this place, or just a servant cursed to remain?

“Answer me, human,” Griffon commanded, raising a hand.

A chill wind swept through the room, wrapping around Amelia’s body. She lifted into the air, her feet leaving the ground. She felt nothing—no pain, no fear. Only silence, and a fog clouding her mind, like slipping into a dream.

She floated toward him, suspended between reality and enchantment.

“Why did you enter this castle? Who sent you?” he asked again. A small motion of his hand tilted her head gently.

With another gesture, her hair fell back, her collar loosened. Her slender neck lay bare before him.

Griffon swallowed hard. The sight tormented him.

“M-me…?” Amelia whispered, her voice barely a breath. She couldn’t think. The man before her was too mesmerizing. She couldn’t look away.

Her eyes closed as Griffon leaned in. His sharp nails ghosted across her skin.

His thirst clawed at him. He hadn’t tasted human blood in centuries. And now… her neck looked so fragile. So tempting. A delicacy long lost to him.

His fangs descended, glinting beneath the moonlight. One hand cradled the back of her neck gently.

Amelia gave in. She didn’t understand what was happening. All she felt was the warmth of his breath… and the cold of death drawing near.

His fangs grazed her skin—

But he stopped.

Damn it.

Griffon recoiled, releasing her. Amelia collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

He couldn’t do it. Not after all these years. He couldn’t cross that line again.

“What are you waiting for, Griffon?”

A woman’s voice pierced the silence. From the wall behind him, a beautiful woman emerged—her long black hair flowing, her gaze sharp with regal fury. Her ancient gown shimmered faintly in the candlelight.

“Why didn’t you drink her blood?” she demanded. It was his mother.

“I… I can’t,” Griffon whispered.

“Fool. You are a vampire. How dare you deny your nature?”

A second figure stepped out from the wall—his father. Regal, imposing, his stare burned like fire.

“I haven’t done it in so long… I just… I can’t anymore.”

“We are vampires! You disgrace our bloodline by refusing to feed!”

“I’m not disgracing anyone. I’m choosing not to.”

“Then give her to me!” his mother snapped. “If you won’t do it, I will!”

She reached for Amelia. Her body rose once more, like a puppet pulled by invisible strings.

“No!”

Griffon snatched Amelia into his arms, holding her protectively. “No one will touch her!”

“Don’t be a fool, Griffon! You know what they are. They will betray you. Destroy you. Give her to me—before it’s too late!”

“I said no!” he roared. The castle trembled under the weight of his fury.

“She’s different. She’s not from the village. She’s just a traveler—someone who didn’t know the rules. If we kill her, humans will grow suspicious. They’ve already found the bodies left behind by the others. If they grow angry enough, they’ll burn this place to the ground!”

His father’s expression darkened. “Then get rid of her. And find whoever is responsible for those deaths, before the name of Xander is forever stained.”

With that, he vanished into the wall.

His mother lingered for a moment longer, eyes locked on her son. Then, without a word, she too disappeared.

Griffon looked down at Amelia. She remained unconscious, unaware of how close she had come to death.

Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

This was the first time he had ever held a human this close.

And he could only hope she would never return—because if she did, the others might not be so merciful.