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Bewitched Vampire

Laying in his bed was pure agony with his bride being so close. Vladimir's lips curved a little when he heard her turning sides in her bed while making cute little noises of annoyance, from the past weeks he had noticed that she did that a lot.

At least he wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep. Sighing heavily he rubbed his hands roughly down his face.

All he wanted to do was to rip that damn door open, pull his bride in his arms and kiss her until one of them passed out. But Vladimir couldn't.

There was too much history standing between them. And Esmeray was too young to understand his reasonings. She was too young to understand how shamelessly selfish Vladimir could be where she was concerned.

His bride was an angel she wouldn't understand why Vladimir betrayed his allies for joy, why he tested his subjects with the temptation of power, why he was called a cunning bastard by everyone. She won't understand why he was known for loving himself and his throne above everything.

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