Nikolas stood shirtless in the basent gym, in nothing but the low-rise pants he wore, hopping on his feet. He cracked his knuckles. His muscles rippled as he rolled his shoulders, eyeing the heavy punching bag dangling back and forth slowly, the chains above creaking.
"You have ten seconds to explain to why you’re getting married in a few hours." Francesca stood, watching him with a lifted brow.
"She was interesting," Nikolas said, fists landing heavily against the bag. "Couldn’t get her out of my head all day."
"What?"
She was confused and blinked.
"What do you an?"
"I can’t explain it."
"So, I set you up on a blind date, and you co back now, telling you’re getting married to soone you’ve just t. ONCE!" she said, wiggling her finger at him. "Once, Nikolas."
"Mhm." Nikolas pivoted, throwing a right hook that sent the bag swinging. "When you say it like that, it does sound crazy–"
"It doesn’t sound crazy!" Francesca snapped, expressing herself with her fingers. "It is crazy, Niko. You don’t even know her personally. Did all that finding-your-mate thing fly out the window?"
He caught the swinging bag with both hands and slowly turned to look at her. "Aren’t you the one who called it bullshit and set up for this? Why are you complaining now?"
She scratched her dark brown curls, unable to put her head through the entire thing. "Even though. I just didn’t expect you to co back after a single night of eting soone, ready to marry them. You’re my friend and it’s worriso. She even got you a suit. And a ring."
"There’s sothing about her, Francesca," Nikolas muttered, wiping his knuckles on the towel slung around his neck. "I want to keep her close."
"Why? You don’t even know this woman."
"It doesn’t matter." He resud striking the bag harder this ti, each blow a little faster and a little louder. "It feels like I’ve t her sowhere. Even the warmth of her hands felt familiar. I’ve thought of her all day, her eyes, but for the life of ... I can’t figure it out. I can’t recall a damn thing, and it’s driving insane."
Francesca stared at him. Lost for words.
"I don’t understand what’s going on with you, Nikolas, but... she’s human. I’d have said she may be your mate, but your mate who died was never human. At least that’s what you were told. Also, if things go wrong, I’m going to be blad, because I persuaded you into this blind date."
"And marrying her is my choice." Nikolas paused long enough to look over his shoulder, eyes glistening a bright green beneath dark lashes. "So, what are you trying to say?"
"I’m saying that marrying a human... is not a good idea. I an–"
"Weren’t you once human, Francesca?"
"Yes, but I loved your brother. I knew what he was, and I chose him willingly. This woman doesn’t know what you are. Do you know how a human would react to the idea of a vampire, to the fact that you exist?"
"It doesn’t matter." He turned fully now, bare feet flat against the cold cent. "I don’t intend to tell her what I am."
Francesca folded her arms. "And if she finds out? What are you going to do?"
Nikolas walked slowly towards her. He extended a sweaty hand out. "Did you get the ring?"
She frowned at his diversion. But nodded regardless. "Yes."
"You can’t lose this ring," she added, taking out a box from the pocket of her coat. "This is the last one of it. He said it’ll allow you to move in the sun, so if you lose it, say bye-bye to ever walking in the sun again. You will burn."
"Thank you, Francesca." Nikolas collected it, walking off in large strides. "Now, I have a bride to get to."
"Nikolas."
She spun on her heel.
"While the ring will keep you from burning, it won’t stop the sun from weakening you. So, as long as you’re in the sun, you’re as weak as a human. Maybe even weaker. That’s why you’re going to need to stay out of any kind of danger while the sun is up. Otherwise, you might die. Weakness ans you won’t heal even from a knife cut."
That made Nikolas rub his chin in slight thought. His voice dropped as he slipped the ring on. "Don’t worry about . I’m not that easy to kill."
———
The sound of the soft violin, Viviana was listening to it as she stood behind the double door that led into the backyard of the hotel where the function was being held and broadcasted for the entire world to see.
She felt nervous, gripping the bouquet she held. Any second from now, this door would be opened, but Nikolas was nowhere to be seen.
He didn’t quit, did he?
"Viviana." Her na slid from his mouth smoothly as if he’d said it a million tis before to himself.
And she turned imdiately.
She scrutinized him from his perfect, not too long but not too short hair to the broad fra of him, clad in a three-piece white suit.
The suit she’d gotten him.
Nikolas’s charming smile appeared.
He walked up to her, took her hand, and bowed like a gentleman to kiss the back of it.
She blinked those hazel eyes at him.
"A tattered dress," he mused. "And barefoot?"
"I like it better this way," she said, elevating her head. "Don’t you think I look pretty?"
Her words made a strange nervous wave of excitent travel through his body. "Exquiste, actually."
He gestured out his arm. "Shall we?"
Viviana wrapped her arm around his, drawing a deep breath. "The world is watching."
The double door creaked open slowly.
The violin stopped mid-note.
Every head turned.
Caras flashed once, then again, catching the two standing in the doorway. She was barefoot, in a tattered dress, her arm linked with a man no one recognized.
The entire venue went dead silent.
"Please welco... w-with a big round of applause..." the priest stamred, voice cracking into the mic. "The..."
He swallowed.
"...The bride."
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