Page 239 of The Delta's Rogue
And Savvy. She’ll never remember Dominic, her other dad. She won’t have the closure of a headstone or an urn with his ashes. All she’ll have is the stories we share with her about him.
“Be at peace,” Malachi murmurs, ending the moment of remembrance.
He takes Sarina’s crown—a gorgeous, custom-made headpiece crafted from gold and inlaid with diamonds and rubies—from the pillowed pedestal beside him. “It is now time for my daughter to take her place as the queen, the alpha of alphas.” He lifts the crown above her head as she kneels. “Sara Anaís Goodrich Cisneros.” His voice echoes off the glass. “You are the heir of Conan. Do you accept your role as our queen?”
“I, Sara Anaís Goodrich Cisneros, promise to govern and protect every lycan and werewolf, whether they be from a pack, a nomad, a rogue, or a lone wolf.”
Her voice rings clear and true throughout the greenhouse. There is no hesitancy within her tone and no anxiety in the bond. She doesn’t check for my permission like she still so often does. There’s no trace of the nightmares that sometimes plague her—nightmares that send her into my arms when she can’t remember what’s real and what isn’t, nightmares that she fights with everything in her to be rid of. She bears the scars on her skin proudly, showing them off for the world to see how strong and brave she is, and she enjoys her much deserved moment of peace and attention as she becomes our queen.
“I promise to rule with justice and fairness, and exact my judgment according to the laws set forth by my ancestors. I promise to follow in the footsteps of Conan, first lycan and first monarch, and protect those who cannot protect themselves, even if it means risking my own life to do so. I promise to do all this and more for as long as I serve the crown, until I pass it to my heir or take my final breath. All this I promise to myself, to the Goddess, and to my people.”
Malachi beams with pride as she recites the monarch’s vow, and when she finishes, he places the crown on her head. “Rise, Queen Sara Anaís Goodrich Cisneros. Rise, and greet your people.”
She turns to face the crowd, and explosive applause, cheers, and howls ping off the glass walls. She dips her chin to them, a serene smile on her face, and when she rises once more, her eyes lock with mine.
I bow to her from my place at the back of the greenhouse, where I wait for my turn to be crowned. I bow to her not just as the queen of the lycans and werewolves, as the alpha of alphas, but as the queen of my heart.
“Queen Sara,” Malachi says once the cheers die down. “Do you have a mate you wish to crown as your consort today?”
Her serene smile turns cheeky as she gestures towards me. “I do.”
I walk down the aisle as she walks to her right, heading up the stairs to the balcony and then down the identical stairs on the opposite side, collecting my crown along the way. My red cloak—a less fancy, unembellished version of hers—drags on the floor behind me. We meet at the foot of the stairs, and I drop to one knee and place my right arm across my chest with my fist above my heart.
She stands one step above me and holds my crown over my head as she asks me to take my vows as her consort.
“Sebastian. Do you promise to serve the crown and every lycan and werewolf to the best of your ability? Do you promise to stand up for what is right and condemn what is wrong?”
“I do.”
“Do you promise to be my soft place to land and my strength? Do you promise to bear every burden for me when it becomes too overwhelming? Do you promise to support me, protect me, and take care of me so I can take care of our kingdom?”
I lift my eyes to hers while keeping my respectful posture as she repeats the words I said to her so many nights ago, when I accepted my role as her mate. “Te lo prometo,” I swear. “I do.”
Her throat bobs and her bottom lip quivers. “Then I officially proclaim you King Sebastian Henry Goodrich, consort to Queen Sara Anaís Goodrich Cisneros.”
She places the crown on my head. I brace myself for the impact.
It’s heavier than I expected. Not uncomfortably so, but I imagine the longer I wear it, the heavier it will become.
It’s a reminder of the importance of our roles. That they are a burden for us to bear together. A reminder that the power can weigh anyone down, that no one is immune to the temptations having power brings, and that we must wield it carefully and judiciously.
“Do I get to kiss you now?”I ask.
“Like you need to ask.”
I rise to my feet. Even with her standing on the bottom step, I tower over her. My lycan delights in the size difference.
Hell, so do I.
As the audience breaks into a second round of tumultuous cheers and howls, amplified by the extra boisterous cheers from my family and friends, I take my queen in my arms and, with a crown on my head and hers, we kiss for the entire world to see.
I stand at theedge of the party, sipping a glass of ice-cold water and watching the evening unfold. Reid and Savvy stand center stage on the dance floor. Her hands wrap around his fingers, and he bends to her level, singing and shaking his butt to the music.
It’s hard to believe she’s already a year old now. It seems like yesterday Reid told us Taryn was expecting, and now Savvy is walking and saying “mama”, “dada”, and her personal favorite, “Cav”.
Taryn holds a sleeping Austin at a nearby table. She laughs at Reid’s ridiculous faces and smiles at their adorable daughter. Wes and Haven dance near Reid, with Dylan held between them. Nolan sits at the same table as Taryn, with Cassandra on his lap, the two of them lost in their own world as they whisper to each other. Maddie and my mom stand near the cake table with Malachi, Micah, and Tatiana.
Sarina—my queen—flits around, speaking with anyone who stops to congratulate her.
