Chapter 8 - The Wedding the Kingdom Never Expected
Their wedding was held in the rebuilt palace garden.
There were no ancient rituals.
No political bargains.
No forced vows.
Only people.
Thousands came.
Some had once hated Lucian.
Some had feared Alera.
Others had simply wanted to see whether two people could really change an entire kingdom.
Alera wore a simple silver gown.
Lucian wore black.
When he saw her walking toward him, his eyes filled with tears.
She reached him.
“You're crying.”
“No.”
“You are.”
“Dust.”
“There is no dust.”
He smiled.
“Then I'm crying.”
She laughed.
The ceremony was short.
Lucian promised never to command her heart.
Alera promised never to fear his.
They exchanged rings.
Then kissed.
The crowd erupted.
For the first time, the kingdom celebrated an Alpha King and his mate not because politics required it.
But because they wanted them to be happy.
After the wedding, Alera visited her mother's grave.
She placed a silver flower beside the stone.
“I found him.”
She smiled through tears.
“And he found me.”
Lucian stood behind her.
He waited.
Alera looked back.
“Come here.”
He did.
They stood together.
“My mother saved me.”
“Yes.”
“Your father protected me.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
Lucian took her hand.
“Now we protect everyone else.”
Their lives changed.
The palace became a public residence.
They opened schools.
Built hospitals.
Created a sanctuary for abused Omegas.
Alera personally visited villages.
She listened.
She learned.
Lucian changed too.
He stopped ruling from above.
He started sitting among the people.
Years passed.
The kingdom flourished.
But one winter morning, Alera woke feeling sick.
Lucian immediately panicked.
“What happened?”
She laughed.
“Nothing.”
“You're pale.”
“I'm fine.”
“You're trembling.”
She took his hand.
“Lucian.”
“Yes?”
“We're going to have a baby.”
He stared at her.
Silence.
Then his face broke into the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.
“A baby?”
She nodded.
He dropped to his knees in front of her.
Then pressed his forehead gently against her stomach.
“Hello.”
Alera laughed.
“You're talking to it?”
“Of course.”
“The baby can't hear you.”
“Then I'll start early.”
She kissed his hair.
“You're ridiculous.”
“I am going to be a father.”
“Yes.”
He stood.
Then suddenly he looked terrified.
“What if I become like my father?”
Alera touched his face.
“You won't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you ask that question.”
He smiled.
She kissed him.
Their child would grow up without the chains that had defined their families.
No forced bonds.
No ancient sacrifices.
No throne demanding blood.
Only choice.
Only love.
Only freedom.
But one secret remained.
The old throne had never completely disappeared.
Deep beneath the palace, the stone remained.
Waiting.
Watching.
And one night, the ancient voice returned.
May you like
Not to Alera.
To her unborn child.
