Page 79 of Alpha's Exiled Mate
“There’s Her Majesty the Queen!” someone shouted from the crowd, sparking a wave of cheers, the sound swelling like a tide, warm and welcoming.
I waved to them, my heart filled with gratitude. These people, who once believed rumors and feared the king, had now accepted the truth and embraced me, a former slave girl, as their future queen. Perock had done a tremendous amount of work to reveal the truth to the public, including the treasonous acts of the Thornfield family and Orin’s betrayal.
Just a few days ago, the Thornfield family had been sentenced to death for conspiring to overthrow the royal family and colluding with rebel forces. Though I harbored deep hatred for Viossi’s past actions, seeing the terror in her eyes as she was led to the execution ground stirred a trace of pity in me. If not for her arrogance and vanity, if not for her parents’ greed and scheming, perhaps she could have had a different life.
At the same time, Perock had signed a formal alliance treaty with my mother, Queen Fellinger, marking the first step toward the future unification of our two nations. After the merger, we would govern this land together, bringing peace and prosperity to the people of both countries.
When I arrived at the grand cathedral, my mother was already waiting at the entrance. She looked even more regal than she had five years ago, yet her eyes still held the wisdom and resolve of a queen, as well as the tenderness and compassion of a mother.
“My daughter,” she said, her voice tender as she took my hands, her grip steady and warm. “You’ve surpassed every hope I had for you. I’m so proud.”
“Thank you, Mother,” I said, squeezing her hands, the familiar comfort of her touch grounding me. “Your guidance shaped me into the person I am today.”
“You’re breathtaking, my sweetheart.” Mother said, her fingers brushing my veil, her eyes shimmering with tears. “You remind me of myself on my wedding day, but with so much greater joy.”
The cathedral’s massive doors creaked open, and the organ’s rich notes filled the air, a majestic hymn that seemed to the heavens. Inside, guests rose to their feet, their faces glowing with goodwill as sunlight poured through stained-glass windows, casting a mosaic of colors across the stone floor.
Anna stepped forward first, scattering petals with careful steps, her smile radiant, her small figure a beacon of joy. I took my mother’s arm, my steps measured, my heart steady as we proceeded down the aisle. Nobles and emissaries from both kingdoms lined the pews, their gazes warm with respect, a testament to the bridges we’d built.
At the altar, Perock stood in his royal regalia, his presence commanding yet softened by the love in his amber eyes that met mine. The world seemed to fade, leaving only him and I, his gaze a promise that made every hardship, every moment of waiting, worthwhile. This was our moment, forged through trials, sealed by choice.
My mother placed my hand in Perock’s, her smile a silent blessing as she stepped back, completing the tradition of giving away the bride. His grip was warm, steady, his eyes shimmering with love and gratitude, anchoring me in this sacred space.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low, meant only for me, a vow wrapped in a question.
“I’ve never been more certain,” I said, my voice steady despite the tears welling in my eyes, a promise of my own.
Before the priests of both kingdoms, we exchanged vows, our words solemn yet infused with the depth of our shared journey.
As Perock slid the ring onto my finger, it’s cool metal warmed by his touch, and I placed his, the cathedral erupted in applause. When he lifted my veil and kissed me, soft and reverent, the cheers swelled, a celebration of love triumphant. In that moment, I felt fate align, every pain and struggle a stepping stone to this perfect union.
The festivities that followed spanned three days, a joyous union of two peoples. Streets overflowed with petals, banners, and lanterns, the air alive with music and laughter.
On the second day, during the coronation ceremony, my mother announced her abdication, passing Fellinger’s crown to me. She placed the delicate silver and moonstone diadem on my head, its weight a reminder of duty, its beauty a symbol of hope.
“To rule is not to wield power, but to bear responsibility,” she said, her voice carrying through the hall, her eyes locked on mine. “Every choice you make shapes the lives of millions. Never forget that.”
“I’ll honor your legacy, Mother,” I vowed, my voice firm, my heart resolute. “I won’t let you down.”
Perock stood beside me, his presence a steady anchor, his eyes filled with pride and unwavering support. Just months ago, we’d teetered on the brink of death, and now we stood as king and queen, poised to lead our united kingdoms into an era of peace.
That night, we retired to our new chambers, the room aglow with candlelight, the air scented with jasmine from the gardens below.
The door clicked shut, sealing the world out.
For the first time in forever, there was no war. No danger. No shadows lurking in the corners threatening to tear us apart.
It was just the two of us. Me and him. Finally, home.
I turned to face him but Perock was already looking at me like I was a miracle that somehow chose him even when he thought he didn’t deserve it.
His smile was gone, his jacket too, but he was still every inch a king; muscular forearms, powerful jaw, amber eyes that could unnerve me more than his voice, golden-skinned. He stood in our candlelit chamber like he’d been carved from perfection only for me. Only for my eyes.
His eyes fell to my wedding gown, to the petals caught in the fabric, to my veil loose around my shoulders and his Adam’s apple bobbed, an action that had my thighs getting stickier.
“Don’t move,” he said softly.
I froze, breath hitching.
