The tradition dated back to the days of the Red Epoch. Too many women were stolen from the marriage altar by vampires; it was thought that a bride wed in red would show that she had already been bitten and sampled, making her a less attractive prize to them.

The Eldest had laughed as she set the crown of rowan on my hair, knowing the scent would be harsh and unpleasant to the vampires. And then she’d brought out the bells.

I hadn’t realized just how painful that sound might be to him. Like his voice, with the removal of his hood, many things became more clear.

I climbed into the carriage, doing my best not to move my hands any more than necessary, and slid into a seat of pure luxury. The interior was rich, paneled with dark wood and the seats thick and velvety. The ride to the Rift would be made in more comfort than I’d ever experienced in my life.

I was followed by the bloodwitch, who sat next to me. She appeared to be in her late thirties, though the ages of bloodwitches, like vampires, were deceptive. Her ash blonde hair was twisted into a tidy chignon, an expensive pair of gold-framed spectacles perched on her nose. Her own nails were nearly long enough to be called claws, and capped with gilded filigree sheaths.

The Sisterhood had also provided me with a lady’s maid, as befitted someone with a lai in her name—they had not wanted to tip off Lord Bane to the fact that his new bride was an indentured servant herself, though that would become apparent soon enough.

But Ellena stood outside the carriage, taking in the small space, her mouth pinched. “May I ride with the driver?”

I knew that she did not like the idea of being trapped in here with a fiend. She had cried when the Eldest Sister ordered her to accompany me to the Rift and attend to me, but that was not her only job.

But Lord Bane merely rolled his shoulders. “Do as you please.”

Ellena exhaled an audible sigh of relief, and climbed up on the coachman’s bench.

Which left Lord Bane himself to enter the carriage, squeezing his broad shoulders through the door. The entire contraption groaned as it took the weight of the fiend, and he settled himself on the seat opposite me and the bloodwitch, pulling the door shut behind him and locking it in place with an iron bar.

With the dull sound of that bar falling into place, it finally hit me.

This was real.

The monster sitting across from me was my husband. The carriage was a cage, dragging me across the country to a place I’d never seen outside of books. I had been sold, unable to speak a word in my defense.

As the carriage lurched forward, the dark horses drawing it out of the stableyard, I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, translating Nord wyrd-runes in my head to calm myself.

The streets of Argent flashed by outside the dark, smoky windows when I opened my eyes. It was still real.

Lord Bane watched me in silence, the thin, cat-like pupils of his gaze widening against the brilliant gold of his irises. What should have been the whites of his eyes were as black as ink, his skin a deep, ashen gray.

I gazed back at him, slowly taking in… everything he was.

His size had to be part of his fiend nature. He was unnaturally large, but well-muscled from what I could see of the legs stretched before me. A perfect predator.

High, sharp cheekbones, curved upwards like horns, jutted above a thick lantern jaw distended to accommodate fangs. A row of tiny, rounded spicules protruded through his brows, growing in size as they moved up his forehead to the hairline, all the way to the sharp, angular horns sweeping back over black hair.

These things might have been overlooked, were it not for the wide, pointed ears that seemed to swivel at every tiny sound. The almost muzzle-like shape of his lower face, his nostrils slitted, lips deformed to expose a rack of gleaming fangs.

His entire face was deformed with sharp, cartilaginous ridges that traveled over the bridge of his nose and up to his forehead, giving him a bestial aspect.

Despite his appearance, fine clothes had been carefully tailored to fit his oversized, distorted body. Trousers, a crimson brocade waistcoat, a linen shirt… all of it pulled out of shape and hidden under a cloak. In these close quarters, I could smell him clearly, a pleasant scent like woodsmoke and cedar. It seemed strange that someone so hideous could smell so appealing. Shouldn’t he reek of gore and decay?

Bane gazed back at me, watching my eyes move downward, and without a word he pulled the cloak to cover shoeless feet that were more like paws, tipped with thick, curving talons.

The sum of his parts reminded me of a bat, of all things. A larger-than-life, wolf-skinning beast, wearing the clothes of a nobleman.

The Lifegiver, the bloodwitch had called him—though it seemed more like his title should be Lifetaker.

Had it hurt to lose the exceptional beauty of a vampire, in order to become… this thing?

I would ask him why he had chosen this. If I was to live as his bride, I would have to speak with him at some point.

It was an automatic gesture to reach for the slate I always kept tied to my bodice, and I realized with a shade of panic that it was gone.

I’d forgotten that they’d taken the slate when I was dressed for the wedding. They hadn’t even given me time to pack my few meager belongings, but the slate… that was the only way I had to communicate with most of the world.

Taking a few quick, anxious breaths, I signed with shaking hands. Do you have anything to write with?

The jingle of silver bells filled the interior of the carriage. Both vampire and bloodwitch flinched, jaws clenching.

I’d forgotten the damned bracelets. Moving as carefully as possible, I unclasped the silver bracelets, cupping the bells in my palm so they wouldn’t ring.

Then I slid the window open, extended my hand, and dropped them on the streets of Argent. Maybe an urchin would find them and pay for a few good meals—my wedding gift to our people.

The rowan crown followed, with a few strands of my hair still caught in the sap-oozing branches. If the bells made them flinch, the smell was probably intolerable in this enclosed space.

I was already married. I had to do what I could to uphold the peace between our kinds. Veladar’s protection and stability depended on me.

Something flickered in Lord Bane’s eyes as I shut the window again. Though the rest of him was beastly… something in his gaze seemed almost human.

I wished I knew what that flicker had been, but it was once more hidden. The gold-and-black gaze was unreadable to me.

He watched my hands, his head tilted slightly. Was that recognition in his eyes? I could only hope.

I pantomimed writing once more, and the bloodwitch gave me a sweet smile.

“I apologize, but the only paper I have is our original copy of the Blood Accords, so it’s quite untouchable. You are… mute. Yes?”

I nodded, frustration welling in me, a familiar tide I was powerless to halt.

I can speak perfectly well with my hands. Perhaps someone in the Rift could translate? My hands still trembled with the residual shock of discovering I was to be married today, as well as hunger.

Lord Bane’s gaze followed the motions of my fingers, his ridged brow furrowing even deeper. He looked like he might lean forward and bite, taking off my hands at the wrists with ease.

“You speak the priests’ tongue?” he asked, voice rumbling in my chest.

My hands froze, excitement spearing through me. He was a veteran from the front lines of the Forian War. Surely he’d met the warrior-priests of the Brotherhood, who were all vowed to silence?

I nodded. Do you? Please tell me you understand.

The vampire watched my fingers, then shifted his gaze back to my face. I wasn’t sure how, but he seemed rueful to me—his lips shifted over that rack of fangs in what might have been called a smile. “I apologize. I’ve seen the Silent Brothers speak, but I know very little of their language beyond our wartime shorthand.”