Page 45 of Moon Bound

“So unique,” I agree.

“So mine,” Chase adds, and Sawyer shifts and punches his arm.

“Ours,” he growls, quickly returning his attention to Aspen gliding down the aisle in shining combat boots. Halting to admire the recent redecoration, gasps of awe fill the space as vampires peek up at the princess from their positions on the floor. Lorcan stands and moves over to me, clasping a hand on my shoulder. Everyone else takes his lead and stands, waiting for tonight’s immense ceremony to begin. It’s been centuries since we’ve had a wedding, and never has there been one quite like this.

I stride towards Aspen first, my arm outstretched with a smile. She places her hand in the crook of my elbow and walks with me the rest of the way. No jealousy appears in the faces of those awaiting her, an equal truce binding us. Aspen’s happiness is paramount. In the dark days after the loss of her wolf, we quickly found our dynamic with Sawyer added into the fold. It doesn’t matter who puts a smile upon her face, who draws the laughter from her throat, who brings her body to ruin. Her joy is our pleasure to receive, and power struggles have no place in our pack.

Vampires shuffle to fill the aisle once we’ve passed, everyone eager to have a decent view. Torsten and Chase quickly place a kiss on Aspen’s forehead, Sawyer reaching out to brush their traces from her lips with his thumb. Aspen laughs, finding herself amongst the four of us beneath the archway. Lorcan moves to the center of the podium above, signaling for the female orchestra to quieten as he begins to speak.

“Welcome all to a glorious evening of celebration.” Lorcan smiles kindly at Sawyer before turning his attention to Aspen, looking much more himself than he has in a long time. In terms of groveling, I don’t think there’s a trick Lorcan hasn’t pulled to relay his sympathy for the loss of Aspen’s wolf. The king holds himself personally responsible, especially as our soldiers have yet to find Carrick. They search nightly, but the more time passes, the slimmer our chances seem. He could be anywhere by now. Although Lorcan has a long way to go, I see a possible relationship between him and his daughter. Eventually.

“Tonight, we not only bond these souls in line with tradition but also accept a new queen to the throne. One who will serve you all with understanding, compassion, and clarity. Above all, tonight, we welcome Aspen as one of our own. This is truly where you belong,” Lorcan holds her navy gaze. Pride swells within his chest, sincerity reinforcing his tone. Dressed in one of his usual three-piece suits with his hair slicked back, I see a glimpse of the king that hasn’t surfaced for longer than many realize.

Addressing the crowd, Lorcan delivers a speech about acceptance and recognizing new opportunities. Aspen focuses on her father, but I can’t take mine from her. It’s fine, I heard him practicing this part of his speech through his office door when I walked past every day for the last week.

She is stunning. I hadn’t dared dream of the perfect female for me, considering the odds were I wouldn’t ever have one, but Aspen is everything I could have hoped for and then some. Sporting a small smile, her chin is raised and her spine straight—the true vision of a queen worth having.

"Aspen, do you solemnly swear to abide by, uphold, and follow the laws of the castle, to respect and comprehend the desires of all our resident vampires? To protect and fortify our kind, ensuring unity and prosperity at all costs?" Lorcan intones the royal oath he took more than a century ago. Aspen's smile remains unwavering, not faltering for even a moment.

“I do,” she says seriously, bowing her head briefly. A low rumble of pride emanates from those surrounding her. Nova steps forward, producing a sparkling crown on a velvet cushion. Lorcan lifts the jeweled crown and places it onto Aspen’s head. The solid platinum piece is adorned with jewels ranging from diamonds to sapphires and rounded pieces of opal to form a semi-circle pattern around its base.

“Aspen, you have been crowned our new Queen. May your reign be long and joyous.” Lorcan smiles down at her, stretching out his hand to gently pull her onto the podium beside him. Turning Aspen around to face the crowd, he loudly relays, “For our Queen and our Kind,” to which everyone echoes before bursting into cheers and pumping fists into the air.

“Now, I believe you already have a matter of business to attend to,” Lorcan smiles, stepping aside. Aspen commands everyone’s attention, her posture strong, relaxed, and confident. Licking her lips, her fangs catch the glint of the chandelier.

“I’m aware my time at the castle has been brief and somewhat traumatic,” she passes us a quick glance filled with mirth. “I commend the regulations already in place for your females. Your respect and understanding towards giving them space to thrive is humbling. But I’m approaching you all today with new reasoning.” Looking back for Lorcan’s approval, the king nods, and Aspen continues, angling herself to the cordoned area of females peering on.

“There’s more to a mating than reproducing. There’s love, passion, and happiness to be had. Why survive for the sake of existing when you could genuinely enjoy the gift of life? Your lives? My first decree as queen is to permit open marriages and multiple matings without the need for the Moon Bound Trails. I wish you to follow your hearts, build connections and thrive.”

Aside from the hungry, lustful groans seeping through the males, a sudden eruption of excitement bursts from the females. Squealing, hugging each other, I catch Sorcha’s eye. Large blue eyes beam, and it’s only then that I realize the withdrawn lives the females have been forced to lead. Opulent, yes, but filling their time with arts and simple pleasures won’t fill the void only a loving mate could. My chest swells, not only for Aspen's ruling but the happiness she’s spread within moments of becoming queen.

“By doing so, I declare myself free to mate the four males before me,” Aspen continues over the commotion. We don’t care that no one is no longer listening; this moment is for us. Not for show or some duty to lead by example. Moving down a step to our eye level, Aspen reaches out, and four hands respond, clinging to both of hers.

“Do you all vow to love me with every fiber of your beings? To rule by my side with honesty and compassion? To protect and nurture not only me but each other for the rest of our existence?” Aspen adlibs, using the oath of her coronation as a base. Our answer is instant.

“I do,” we all say in unison, staring deeply into her glistening eyes. Her expression of love, of unadulterated adoration, is my undoing. I rush to kiss her first, a forceful connection with her lips to seal our future. I could kiss her like this forever, surrounded by the celebrating vamps behind, if an elbow didn’t barge into my ribs. Chuckling, I release her neck, not realizing I’d pinned her in place before me, and relent her to Chase’s eagerness.

One at a time, Aspen seals her bond with those at my side, ending with Sawyer. Grabbing the lapels of the damn trench coat, he refused to not pair with his suit, her mouth lands on his as a few whispers catch my ears. It will take time for all to adjust to having a third species in our mix, but I know it’s not Sawyer’s presence that is unnerving. It’s the prospect that there are other foes out there that we may not be aware of.

Releasing Sawyer, Aspen beckons us all to join her on the podium, finding her rightful place in the middle. Two males on either side, Aspen looks across at all of us, beaming widely with a sentiment I don’t need her to express in words. We’re equals in love and duty. Her navy eyes are flecked heavily with gold, her fangs are on full show. Smiling down at my bride, I’m once again floored by her beauty, mind, and the purity of her soul. A scandal brought her to us, but fate sealed our bonds.

Confetti is thrown all around the room, an entire species reveling in anticipation of their new future—the one only Aspen could have provided.

Chapter32

Aspen

Acrescent moon hangs above the clear dome, peeking through large banana leaves to light the stone path. Strolling through the botanical gardens, my hand is in Jaxon’s while the rest linger close behind. I can sense their nerves rolling off their suited bodies in waves. Considering I just professed my love in front of the entire castle, I don’t know what they have to be nervous about. Jax leads me towards the patch of the gardens I have been gifted – a circle twelve feet in diameter. It’s not much, but the dead-white nettles I planted have taken nicely.

“Sit with me,” Jax asks, and who am I to decline my husband’s offer? He sits first, pulling me into his lap to prevent my black lace gown from touching the floor. Torsten lowers by his side, lifting my calves to rest across his legs.

“Guys, seriously. What’s going on?” I ask, removing the crown from my head. With them, I’m simply Aspen.

“We have a wedding gift for you,” Sawyer answers. I smile up at him. It was never going to be easy for him to adapt to living in the residential mating home with the rest of us, but he’s done well. As long as he focuses on me, everything else seems to fade. When the others were already so close, Sawyer tends to distance himself, patiently awaiting my attention from afar. There’s also the fact that he keeps being summoned by the Supernatural Council, and one day soon, we will have to face them. But we will do so together. All four of us are a unit now, and we will tackle our issues as such.

“Okay…” I weigh in on the silence when Chase shifts this weight from foot to foot. Jax and Torsten seem to find his squirming amusing and make no move to rush him. Exhaling sharply, Chase pushes his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a gift box. Black with a red bow, much like the suit he’s opted for. A crimson tie is nestled high against Chase’s shirt collar, despite the number of times I’ve seen him tug at it uncomfortably. He holds out the box, but I beckon him closer instead. As he crouches in front of us, I reach out and pop Chase’s top button, dragging the tie looser.

“Ah, thank the moon for that,” he groans. I smile, accepting his gift and untying the ribbon. Removing the lid, I gasp. An intricate wooden carving of a white wolf lays on the cushion inside, her head upturned on a silent howl.

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