Page 138 of Ruthless Ends

My friends are here somewhere, but I can’t see that far back. All the better though. The second they saw me with this crown on they wouldn’t stop bowing and curtsying and calling meYour Majestylike broken windup toys caught in a loop.

Seeing the size of the crowd makes me all the gladder Reid and I didn’t do this. Standing up in front of this many people—which we would’ve had to do, no such thing as a small estate wedding—looks miserable. It would have been an all-night affair, and I would’ve known less than five percent of the people attending.

A quick signing of the papers and a celebration for just the two of us was perfect. I was never someone who dreamed about my wedding since I was a little girl. What came after—the life, the partner, the family—that’swhat I want.

I trace over the ring with my fingertips, a smile pulling at my lips. A warm sensation floods the bond, like Reid can feel it too. I still haven’t gotten used to the wordhusbandwhen thinking about him.

He stands at the head of the group of monarchs, looking entirely at ease, like he’s always belonged there. Everything about him looks perfect—the polished shoes, the three-piece suit with golden embroidery to match my dress…everything but his crown that’s slightly askew in his messy hair. I swear he never manages to get that damn thing on straight.

A hush falls over the crowd as orchestra music fills the air and Anya steps up to her place, the rest of the monarchs falling into the traditional places of bridesmaids and groomsmen.

I press my lips together to keep from laughing as Cam makes his way down the aisle, all heads turned in his direction like he’s the bride. One of the wolves lets out a loud whistle, and Cam shoots him a death glare.

The ceremony itself is fast—no vows, no flourishes. Merely a sworn agreement and a signing of documents. They don’t even kiss. It’s cold, detached. Just business. If Anya’s upset she ended up in a political marriage after all, she doesn’t let it show. And she’d been right—the marriage alliance had been the key factor to getting all of the estates to agree.

And I can’t help the overwhelming relief that it’s not Reid standing across from her.

It’s over as quickly as it started, and Anya falls into place among the other monarchs as they form a semicircle around Cam and begin the tedious swearing-in process, comprised of lots of reading of duties and rules and history.

But when all is said and done, after every oath is made, it’s Anya who steps up and announces, “We hereby declare the Farley estate of Quebec the eleventh estate and the ninth member of the alliance.”

Despite the tension in the air, the crowd applauds as the rest of the estate heads take a step back and Cam is left in the center. He looks like he’s scowling as he faces the crowd and gives a minuscule bow of acknowledgment, but the slight flush in his cheeks gives away his discomfort. When his eyes land on me in the front row, I give him a cheesy grin and thumbs-up, and for the first time tonight, he smiles.

* * *

Reidand I teleport out early the following evening to make it to New York in time for the food drive happening downtown. The city has been slow coming back to life since the evacuation. The restoration of the estate itself has been much faster, but Reid was adamant about setting up stations throughout the city with food and supplies to help the humans as they rebuild too.

Crouching beneath the plastic folding table, I collect the rest of the water bottles in my arms as yet another person flags Reid down, asking questions about his plans for the region moving forward. Even though he’s given the same answers a million times over at this point, Reid’s tone is nothing but patient as they talk, and others crowd around to listen. A few members of his new security detail orbit the scene, close enough to jump in if needed but trying to give Reid the illusion of space.

I set the water in a neat line at the end of the table beside the boxes of food and medical supplies, then brace my hip against the building beside us, smiling as the line moves forward smoothly. It’s gotten longer throughout the night as word spread we were here. We’ll need to send a team out to restock supplies again soon.

“Is it one per person?” a woman asks as the baby propped on her hip tugs a tiny fist relentlessly against her blouse.

I shake my head. “Take as much as you need. Here, we have bags.”

My gaze trails over her head like a magnet constantly being pulled to where Reid stands a few paces away. Even in his attempts to blend in—a simple white button-down shirt and slacks—I could pick him out anywhere. He doesn’t need the crown or fancy clothes to remind people of his station. It’s the way he stands, how he holds himself. He shakes the hands of the group of men he’d been talking to before returning to our table. He catches me watching him and smiles.

“How are you holding up?” he asks as he braces his hands against the table on either side of me, pressing his chest to my back and his chin to my shoulder.

“I could ask you the same thing. That was a long talk over there.”

He nods. “They were asking about blood donations. It’ll take some time, but I’d like to transition to Cam’s idea to reimburse donors, but I think the blood farm locations will need to be renovated first. I don’t want people to have to—”

“Remember those when they go?” I offer quietly.

He nods again. “I’d like them to have a nicer space for it.”

I lay my hands over his on the table and intertwine our fingers, looking out at the sea of people before us. After seeing little more than a ghost town the last few times I was in this city, my heart feels full seeing the streets crowded with people again.

There’s still so much work to do. If I let myself think about it for too long, my brain starts to shut down, terrified that we’ll never manage it.

But people even being willing to come back to this place, I suppose, is a start.

“They like you.”

He chuckles softly, his breathing stirring the hair at the base of my neck. “Anything would’ve been a step up from my mother.”

I glance at my watch and nudge him in the ribs. “You’ll have to get back for—”

---