Honeymoon

Ophelia jolted at the ferocity of the soldiers' voices. She felt her stomach lurch when she heard it. The forest was unnaturally quiet. Not even the flinch of twigs snapping or snow falling from large branches. It was calm before the storm. 

Ophelia's blood thinned. She felt like cold water had been poured over her. Every inch of her body stilled. Who was here…? The second Prince of their empire? Her head spun at the very thought of someone discovering her in this auction dress. Not to mention, Ophelia could barely remember how to address the royal family—of vampires.

"Ophelia," Killorn coldly called.

Killorn captured her eyes, his expression morphing from irritation to sheer danger. Her mouth ran dry. His grip tightened on her waist, bringing her even closer to him.

"Stay put in this carriage, or so help me god."

Ophelia rapidly nodded.