*The story begins when Christine is on stage at her "last performance". Raoul has planned to take her away from Paris, from Erik forever. However, our phantom has different plans.

The gas lights seemed to be doused quite quickly by some unseen force. And then became lit again in an instant. Christine was gone! The monster pulled her to the depths of the opera by use of a trap door on stage.

"Let me go!" She cried, his hand painfully grasping her wrist pulling her along his side. She tried desperately to free herself, his grip only becoming stronger, tighter.

"You have betrayed me for the last time!" He ignored her pleas, pulling her down faster, the lantern in his other hand.

"Please, Erik…please…don't do this!" She screamed, her sobs threatening to choke her.

"You are mine! Don't you understand?! You were going to leave without a word with your precious boy, were you not? Not even a goodbye or a note? That boy has poisoned your mind against me!" He stopped abruptly and spun around on her, Christine's back uncloaked to the stone walls.

She screamed and his gloved hand was instantly at her mouth. "No one can hear you, my dear…not even the rats! It is a waste of sound…and you'll ruin your voice…" He said coldly, keeping a hold of her. "Now, come…we have a wedding to attend…" Letting go of her for a second his grasp was on her wrist and he continued their journey to the lake.

"W-Wedding?" She whispered in a quiet sob.

"Yes…our wedding…I daresay you didn't think I was bringing you down all these flights of stairs for nothing? I intend to make you mine, forever…the God you love so much can bear witness to this grotesque act…" He sneered, picking her up as if she were light as a feather and gently placing her in the boat.

She began to cry, tears flooding her eyes, her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands as she felt him push off the shore. He was silent, his eyes upon her nearly the whole journey to the house. He couldn't bear it when she cried, but he knew he could not show any remorse this time…she had to learn.

As soon as the boat pushed up against the little beach, Christine was startled, revealing her tear stricken face, now red from crying. Her breath was still wracked with sobs, though her crying ceased. Erik quickly removed himself from the boat, reaching inside to pick her up effortlessly. She knew she could not fight him…and win. Instead she indulged him by continuing to sob, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Shhhh…" He soothed finally, entering the little house. He silently went to the end of the house, Christine's room. There on the bed was the wedding dress, layed out perfectly for her. She put her head up to see where they were and at first glance spotted the beautifully made, lacy white gown.

"Erik…" She whispered, tears spilling over her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching her small hand to his cloak.

"Come now Christine, brides are supposed to be filled with tears of joy…a blush at their cheeks…"

"Why are you so cruel?" She cried aloud at him, making him set her on the bed.

"Any cruelness I show you tonight I learned from you, mademoiselle…now…put the dress on…"

"Leave me!" She cried, sulking into her pillow.

"I don't think so…you might try to harm yourself, or worse…put the dress on…I promise you I will not look…I am a gentleman after all…am I not?" He turned his back on her, eyes gazing at the floor beneath him.

She continued to cry, once in a while drawing in a shuddering breath.

"There…I am finished…" she whispered, her eyes once a beautiful blue now dark and filled with angry tears. He turned slightly, his cat like gaze seeking out the perfect contours of her body…the dress fit her perfectly.

"You…are so beautiful…" He said, his throat suddenly dry. "But wait…you forgot to tie the laces in the back…" He walked slowly to her, his hands coming to her shoulders, turning her gently so that her back faced him. She could not meet his eyes at that contact, and instead stared ignorantly at the adjacent wall.

His hands were instantly at the laces, tying quickly and skillfully. An unwanted blush spread over her cheeks as his no longer gloved hands brushed against the sensitive skin below the back of her neck. He could see traces of her chemise beneath the fabric of the dress and he felt as if his blood were boiling.

"There now…much better…." He turned her again slowly to face him, her eyes to her shoes, still the costume shoes from Faust. She felt a cold bony finger touch barely beneath her chin, lifting her face to meet him. She couldn't help but be taken in by the gold specs that were his eyes, so beautiful and pained at the same time.

"Now, my bride…" He took her hands and she instantly struggled to free herself. His grip tightened and she cried out in pain. "Calm yourself, child…you know I wouldn't harm you…"

"You hurt me even now!" She cried still trying to escape his touch.

"Only when you are fighting me, my love…never intentionally…" He said gently, loosening his grip on her as she calmed. "Even if you were to free yourself from this little house…you could not find your way back up to the opera…it is very dark and there are many different little passageways you could choose. And besides…we wouldn't want you to fall prey to one of my little traps, now would we?"

She drew in a trembling breath, unsure of how to react. She shook her head, her eyes wandering back to the floor…afraid to see his eyes.

"Christine…" He reached in his pocket, pulling from it the small gold ring he had given her before. "You are my wife…and I your husband…"

"Raoul will come for me!" She squeaked, turning from him, her whole body trembling in fear.

"Let him…he will die before he even reaches the lake…" He spun her around, and she gasped, taking her left hand and placing the ring on her finger. "You are mine now…"

"Legally I am not yours, you...you monster!" He let go of her. She tried to remove the ring but it would not budge!

"While that is true…you belong to me…as I said…your precious God could bear witness to the crime…"

"Don't bring God into this…we didn't get married by a priest, or in a church…even in God's eyes I will never be yours!" She said boldly, afraid of his reaction as soon as she stopped her tongue.

"That can be arranged later on, my dear...now…what is that happens after a real priest confirms the two lovers husband and wife? Ah, yes…a bridal kiss…" He whispered, nearing her.

"Never…" She whispered, feeling herself drift backwards to lean on a post of her bed.

"I know you have always been concerned with propriety, my sweet…but as we are husband and wife…there is no wrong in it…" He stepped closer to her, his voice becoming her once Angel's voice.

"Please, no…" She cried almost inaudibly.

"All I want is one, simple kiss, Christine…is that so much to ask on our wedding night?" He was inches from her body now, his own form towering over her. She looked up at him slowly, thinking to herself that one kiss now would be better than…And she thanked the heavens for not letting him force himself entirely on her. A kiss…such a simple gesture.

She closed her eyes in acceptance, feeling his hand caress one of her cheeks. She could feel the burn of her blush meet his icy fingers and the sudden sensation made her open her eyes. As he slowly bent to meet his lips with hers, she shut her eyes again to block everything out and instead was surprised by what she felt. The feeling of his gentle lips closing over hers was a jolt of electricity that pulsed through her. His cold hand still at her cheek, guiding her mouth upwards to meet his. It lasted only a brief second before he pulled away slowly. Christine opened her eyes, her lips fevered and her blush an even more hellish temperature.

"My Christine…" He whispered, his hand now traveling through her long gold locks, returning to her reddened cheek. "Thank you…"

She opened her mouth to speak but could not find the words. Her mind was spinning and she felt faint. When Raoul had kissed her…it was just a kiss…a gesture of affection. But Erik's kiss, she compared, was like a drug…a poisoning dose at that. She felt weak and her knees were shaking, it frightened her to feel what she felt from a man she supposedly hated.

"Come, it has been a tiring night…you need to rest…" And in an instant she was in his arms, being carried to her bed. He layed her down gently, and she seemed to melt into the covers her blonde hair covering the pillow.

"But…my dress…" She whispered, finally words coming from her throat.

"Here I will untie the laces so that you may sleep…otherwise you may remove it tomorrow…after you've slept." He slowly untied her from the corset, thinking to himself that only if she was truly in love with him he would be removing the entire dress at this time of night. He pushed the vulgar thought from his mind, finishing. He removed her shoes and she started.

"It's alright, Christine…" His voice sang. He brought all the covers about her shoulders.

Christine lied frozen in the sheets, her small form trembling. The kiss still affected her. She was sure he could still see the blush at her cheeks and her trembling lips.

"Are you cold, my dear? You are trembling!" He fetched another blanket, though he knew it wasn't the reasoning behind her shaking. She nodded in reply.

"Don't be afraid of me, Christine…" He said softly, sitting next to her. She moved her head to look at him.

"I'm not afraid…" She whispered in reply. I am afraid of what you do to me!

"Oh, I think you are…but you needn't be…you must trust me…I may be…a monster…but I will never stop loving you…my heart will never stop beating for you…" He barely caressed her cheek again.

She closed her eyes again at the sweet contact of their skin. She was so exhausted! And then she heard him begin to sing to her…a sweet lullaby he had first sang to her as an angel. He watched as she relaxed under his touch as he began to sing, her pulse slowed and sleep taking hold of her.

He stayed there, beside her, caressing her hair back, touching the softness of her cheeks, her lips with his fingers. He now knew the true feeling of happiness. She belonged to him.