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Honestly, I’d spent so much of my life feeling broken and useless, hiding myself from everyone else, that I’d never given myself the chance to dream of being loved like this.
But I was their omega.
I was the center of their pack. I held them all together, and we were all broken and useless in our way, but together, we were stronger, and together, we were a pack, and together… we belonged to each other.
I spent that press conference tugged here and there, always between two strong alpha bodies, their muscles contained in their suit coats, behind their ties. They would touch their marks, and I would scent them, and it was all a heady storm that picked me up and blew me through time.
And then, things settled down.
Sort of.
To some degree, being a royal, things never really settled down. There were always these little emergencies. The gossip sites would get hold of something (and it could be true or purely made up or anywhere in between, with a mixture of truth and lies) and then there would be a flurry of damage control or a large amount of stiff-upper-lipping, pretending that it didn’t hurt or that we weren’t furious that these things were being said about us.
It was difficult to explain what that was like, living in the public eye, but I think everyone knows a bit about what it’s like. Because everyone’s dashed off some trivial social media status update that’s been taken the wrong way. Everyone’s had that kind of scrutiny on a small scale.
When it was magnified to be worldwide, it was much harder, however.
But we weathered the lies and the truths and the scandals and the ups and downs.
Then it came time for me to actually marry Devlin, at least the Queen thought so, and what the Queen said went, even when it came to my own wedding.
This became a big deal, because Devlin and I wanted to include the other alphas in the ceremony. We all wanted to basically marry each other.
I can hardly explain what our relationship was even like. I was the omega, and so I was sort of the center of the wheel, and they were all spokes that rotated around me. But they were all interdependent on each other, also. They each had relationships with each other, and relationships with me—and then we also had the big pack relationship, which was the way we were when we were all together, which was amazing in its way, because we were a big family and we were all also really attracted to each other and we had seriously amazing sex, and…
Anyway, it seemed dumb to make it about me and Devlin.
It seemed dumb also to make it about them all marrying me.
We wanted it to be about us, all of us, about our unique bond.
But. Tradition. Royalty. The rules of the palace.
No.
We didn’t manage it.
The best we got was that we were allowed to have our own ceremony to that effect, about all of us, a commitment ceremony amongst all five of us, where we got to walk everyone’s moms down the aisle (well, except Sinclair, of course. The Queen stood in for his mom) and everyone’s dads gave them away—because we didn’t want it to be dictated by gender norms either.
To various degrees, all of us played both male and female roles in our relationship, with some of us swinging harder into various roles than others. Sinclair was certainly as much a bridezilla as I was. He thrived on being in the spotlight.
But then, so did Devlin, just in a different, more staid way, a masculine and quiet way.
And Rohan and Maguire liked attention, too. Everyone likes to be the center of attention, after all. We are all living a life in which we think that we are the main character in our own story, and I never wanted any of my men to feel like they were just one of my harem. They were each important and special to me. They fulfilled a role that no one else could, and the pack wouldn’t function without them.
So, we had our ceremony.
And then I had to be stuffed into an overly ornate dress—
Okay, who am I kidding? I loved the dress. Can we talk about the wedding dress?
The dress had a cinched bodice, covered in hand-crafted lace. My shoulders were bare, but I had sheer, lace bell sleeves, the ends of which trailed all the way down to the floor. The skirts were layers and layers of that hand-crafted lace, and the train was sheer and beautiful, delicate lace that drifted behind me like a fluffy cloud.
I could have died in that dress. Sometimes, I go take it out and put it on when I’m alone—well, if I have time alone, which is rare—and just wander around the rooms in our suite, running my fingers over that luxurious lace.
I loved that dress.
I arrived at the cathedral in that amazing dress in a horse-drawn carriage, and I got out to walk up a carpet which had been laid out for me, with trumpeters announcing my arrival. And the cathedral was full of all of the important people in Angleford plus lots of foreign dignitaries and royalty from other countries. There was a children’s choir who sang like ethereal angels and…
