Page 193 of The Fallen Fae King

I am mesmerized, unable to move. I watch, as they walk up the aisle toward me.

Holding each other’s hands, they are the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen.

My mouth becomes dry.

Freya and Daire are wearing matching white silk robes with my Golden Dragon emblem on the front. A ceremonial belt, which matches their soft red shoes, is tied with a knot at both their waists, which can only be undone tonight by me.

A fire-colored veil covers their heads and shoulders. I secretly asked Lucius to teach me how to embroider them, no matter how much it made me blush, and how many times I pricked my fingers.

Freya’s veil glitters with golden threaded wolves, while Daire’s sparkles with golden ravens.

I can’t wait to see my Spark’s face on the wedding night.

She doesn’t need expensive jewels to make her the most beautiful person in any room.

I believed that Daire would protest about dressing in a pretty outfit meant for Omegas, although he looks otherworldly in it. The white and red makes his wings appear even more dramatic.

Yet here he is, the frost to Freya’s fire.

Is it wrong that I still enjoy being the one to wear the armor, while he is dressed in a robe and veil? That this is my throne?

He must understand that this is a political point.

He is taking the place of the noble dragon, Liviana. He is my legitimate bride today because no Alpha…no fae…has ever married a Shadow Dragon King.

The veil isn’t a mark of shame, but rather my respect.

I have also long learned that Daire doesn’t need to be dressed as a warrior to be deadly.

I arch my brow.

I was wrong that Daire would be swaggering. He is moving with a regal grace. His chin is raised high. His expression is one of focused determination, as if he’s blindfolded.

How could anyone not recognize him as royalty when they see him looking like this?

War and Lucius drag a sheepskin covered stool each from behind my throne and drop them in front of me.

War gestures at them. “Kneel.”

Freya and Daire remain clutching each other’s hands as they kneel in front of me.

Pride and contentment surge through me, although for the first time, it’s not that someone is being forced to kneel for me, but that they are choosing to, and soon, I will be the one to raise them back to their feet.

Lucius passes me a golden dragon crown that matches my own, before he glances at my bride and groom. “When the crown is placed on your head, it is time for your vows. State your name and that you freely give yourself to Aurelius.”

The crowns will fit on top of their veiled heads, as much as I wish to raise the veils to place the crowns properly on their hair, while watching the expressions on my nestmates’ faces.

The ritual dictates that I not look upon their faces, however, until we return alone to my royal nest.

I stroke my finger over the dragon on the front of the crown, unable to look away from the golden rings that gleam in the light, which I already placed on my King and Queen’s fingers in our private ceremony.

Lucius has worked himself into shattered exhaustion to pull off this coronation for me without complaint.

Except, to me, this is showmanship.

I am already married to my Spark. In my heart, I have been for a long time.

I lean forward to place the crown onto Freya’s head.