25.
King
L ater that evening, we’re gathered around the large table in the Council Chamber, a smaller room next to the Throne Hall. Julia is here for the first time, together with the rest of the family, friends, and some of my closest allies.
Only Clara is missing, too occupied with new circumstances. After not much convincing, she and Edwin decided to raise Tabatha’s and Diego’s children—which we all saw coming and expected nothing less from her.
The air is heavy with the weight of the aftermath, the losses we’ve suffered lay heavily on everyone’s minds. This should be the time to celebrate a victory—it was a major battle that we won. Yet, countless obstacles remain. The hunters are still out there, and Lilith continues to be a looming threat.
It's especially hard for me and my siblings. Now, knowing that this demonic witch is so close to walking free… my mother’s sacrifice feels like twisting the silver knife deep inside my chest.
Satan leans back in the chair, his long fingers tapping against the table’s surface before him. His suspense makes the room feel colder. “You’re too important to risk right now. If Lilith is after you ,” he finally speaks, his unwavering pale eyes piercing me through, “it would be the smartest move if you didn’t leave the Veil for the time being.” His eyes flick to Julia for the briefest of moments, then back to me with a subtle persuasion.
I look around everyone. “But the war is not over. I have my duties. I vowed to protect my people.”
“And you can still do the best to your abilities from the inside. I can lead your people.” His voice is a low, measured drawl, but there’s an edge beneath the calm.
I appreciate the sentiment. Last time I checked, he didn’t want to get much involved, though. It took some convincing to get him to invade Area 51 with us. But, I suppose, he has a lot of unfinished business with Lilith. It’s his battle to fight.
However, I am the King. Everyone here depends on me . They look to me for guidance, and that’s a burden I can’t pass on to someone else. Not him, not anyone. I will not falter.
I shake my head. “No, that’s not right.”
“Alex, we will handle the hunters,” Edwin tosses, giving me a firm look. “She is a much bigger threat.”
“You sit the hell down,” I growl at him. “You just became a new father of two.”
“Honey,” Farah cuts in, her maternal tone coming through strongly, “I don’t want you out there until we get that bitch under control.”
Julia sinks into my side, tilting her head to look up and patting my chest, as she whispers, “You’re officially stuck here with me.” And I can feel how all the tension leaves her body at once.
Smiling at her, my posture involuntarily relaxes. I guess I can do that. Just focus on her right now. We haven’t gotten much of a chance for that yet.
Even right this second, with my head full of worry, it’s hard to focus on anything else but her. All I want is to take her to our chamber and make love to her for the rest of eternity.
Farah’s gaze shifts toward the gargoyle, who mops around in the far corner, her tone measured. “And if it’s Esmeralda, you need to find her. You’re the only one who can. I can’t locate her. I can only assume she’s hiding from Lilith, and her protection shield is up. But you will be able to track her.”
Vernox’s entire frame stiffens, and the agitation radiating from him is palpable. “She died,” he growls, the words edged with pain. “Two centuries ago. You told me her soul departed and there was no bringing her back.” His denial is so fierce it almost feels like a wall he’s throwing up to keep the conversation out.
“That’s what me and Dahlia thought.”
“You thought ,” he mocks, but there's something brittle in his voice, as if the words are slipping out despite his will. His wings twitch slightly, and for a moment, all the anger in him almost consumes him.
“Okay, fuck off with your insults,” I snarl at him. The bastard dares to question both my aunt’s and my mother’s powers. Not in my kingdom.
Julia wraps herself around my arm, her presence calming, but I know she’s trying to protect Chiseldick over there.
Vernox is also looking at her for comfort. Damn it, I knew I should’ve ripped his heart out. My claws flex involuntarily.
“She was dead. The resurrection spell didn’t work on her,” Farah proclaims firmly. “We were both certain of that. I still am.”
“Is it at all possible for her to be alive now?” I ask.
She hesitates, her hands resting on the table. “I’m not sure how,” she admits with a sigh.
My stare drifts to Satan.
“There are other forces that can bend the laws of life and death… though they don’t come easily. Whatever pulled her out of the pit and brought her back is more powerful than witch magic.”
I roll my eyes around in frustration. There’s never a straight answer with him.
Vernox glares at the floor, unmoving, his voice dropping to a guttural whisper. “I don’t believe that.” The rawness in his tone cuts through the room, silencing even the faint whispers of the wind outside.
Penny shifts uneasily in her seat, her irritation growing almost as fast as mine. “But why? Shouldn’t you be—”
“Because I’ve spent the past two hundred years mourning her,” he interrupts, not letting my sister finish. “And I can’t allow myself to accept that all this time, she not once reached out to me in any sort of way, knowing I thought she was tossed at the mass grave like garbage with that fucking hunchback desecrating her corpse.”
I never heard him talk so much. And for the first time, I feel something other than annoyance toward him. Pity maybe?
Fuck, so that’s what it came to? Now I sympathize with the damn gargoyle.
But it’s just unimaginable to carry that kind of grief for this long, burying it so deeply it becomes part of you—only to have the possibility dangled before you that it might not have been real.
“I’m sorry,” Julia says out loud, exchanging looks with him. I know she’s being a good person, empathizing with him. And we all feel for him. But it pisses me off that she trauma bonded with Vernox so strongly. One fucking day I was gone and she befriends a traitorous statue. I absolutely despise their closeness. Yet, I hate the fact that I wasn’t there for her even more.
He nods, though it barely registers, and he honestly looks like a complete wreck, still haunted by a loss he’s never been able to let go of. The struggle within him is obvious.
“Esmeralda is a great asset to have.” Farah leans forward, her voice softening but her words resolute. “Lilith is terrified of her power. She always was.” Then her gaze locks on me, pressing me to say something.
I exhale harshly in preparation. “We understand if you’re not feeling up for it. But we would be grateful for your engagement in this matter,” I tell him. “And that way you can redeem yourself, if you want to keep living among us.”
His shoulders shift and his wings straighten as he lifts his head slowly. There’s a storm behind his expression, breaking through his stoic mask—grief, disbelief, and a flicker of desperate hope fighting for dominance.
Whatever history he shared with Esmeralda, it’s clear that her absence—and now the faint possibility of her return—cuts deeper than any wound ever could. But perhaps, he’s been given a second chance.
“Go find her, Vernox,” Julia coaxes gently, her voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere. “Bring her home.”
The gargoyle’s head bows, his wings curling tightly around his form as though shielding himself. “If she’s alive,” he murmurs, still not letting himself believe, “I will.”
As I watch him, I can’t help but wonder if finding her will be the salvation he hopes for—or the thing that finally makes him snap.
“But if I can, I’d like to stay for the coronation,” he adds, his gaze never leaving Julia.
“Oh, no. That’s such a waste of time,” I respond venomously, and a murmur of amusement fills the room. “You should really get going.”
The ceremony isn’t happening until the next week. Out of respect for everyone, we didn’t want it to cut too closely after the battle. Besides, with Clara’s new responsibilities, her time to finish the dress is tight. And Julia also wants everything to be perfect for the wedding night—even delaying it after her period. It doesn’t matter to me, but ultimately it’s about her comfort.
She, of course, disagrees. “I think we’ll be fine if he stays just a little longer.”
If she weren’t about to marry me, and I didn’t have access to her thoughts, he would already be lying shattered at my feet, gasping for breath as he choked on his own blood, his desperate pleas for mercy drowned in my raging fury, with no chance of ever glancing at her again.
Yes, I might’ve lost my mind. But for her, I’d burn this whole world to the ground and never even flinch.
The Veil is silent today but feels like it’s about to burst with too much energy, the magic, the tension, the feeling. The Throne Hall is bathed in the glow of the Northern Lights, their vibrant hues painting the stone walls with greens and purples. It’s a far cry from anything traditional, but then again, this isn’t a typical wedding. There’s no church, no priest, no altar. We’re not interested in man-made traditions. This is a union of two souls bound by fate, love, blood, and the weight of the world on their shoulders— literally .
The air is thick and charged with excitement as the room is filled to the brim with every living soul—everyone we know, the ones who survived, the ones we rescued, and the ones who stuck around despite the dangers.
Except for the minotaur, who’s still living in the woods. And I don’t expect to see him around anytime soon. He’s got a lot to learn before he’ll be invited to the castle—or anywhere near it, for that matter.
I’m trying to hold it together, standing at the front by the steps to the platform where the throne sits. Well, now two of them. For the very first time, I’m officially showing myself in my human form, dressed in my full regalia as King. And I hear the murmurs of comments but I can’t even pay attention to that now. My heart beats heavily in my chest, not from the crowd, but from the woman who I’m about to claim as mine—in a more civilized way.
The world seems to stop as I wait, my heartbeat thundering in my chest, each second stretching impossibly longer. I’m not even sure why I’m this… nervous?
I'm already married to Julia in my mind. We’ve been through hell and back in such a short time together. I don’t need some formal bullshit to make this any more real than it already is.
But she wanted it that way and I respect that.
Today, she’s taking her place by my side.
Her place as Queen.
And I know, with absolute certainty, she’s going to be the most incredible one this realm has ever known.
I can feel her before anyone else—her heartbeat, the sound of her breath, her sweet vanilla smell approaching. She’s a fucking siren to my senses, and no matter how many times I’ve seen her, she still makes my heart stutter.
The door creaks open and my breath catches while the room keeps spinning. The air shifts. The rapid beat of her heart syncs with mine. Her powerful scent fills the space between us, pulling me closer.
Then, with beaming Clara holding her arm steady, Julia moves forward. Delicate black lace overlays the ivory silk of her gown, while golden threads weave through it, shimmering like the damn stars with every step. The fitted bodice clings to her like a second skin, tracing her curves before flaring out into a dramatic skirt, layered with black tulle. A lace-detailed train drags behind her, and her face remains hidden behind the semi-sheer veil, adding an air of mystery to her haunting beauty.
I can’t tear my eyes away. The way she’s walking toward me like she’s ready to take over the world—yeah, that’s my Queen right there.
Once they close the distance, Clara gives me Julia’s trembling hand as she stands beside me.
Breathe. I tell her through our bond. You’re stunning.
I’m freaking the fuck out. Her panicky voice rings in my head.
Hey, look at me.
I slowly remove the thin mesh material from her face, pulling it to the back of her head. When the veil lifts, everything stills. I’m holding my breath, my heart clenches, and I see her— truly see her —as if everything that came before has been building to this. Nothing exists but her. This is the woman who will rule beside me. My wife. My mate. Mother of my children.
Perfection.
Her glossy gaze catches mine, and for a brief moment, the entire noise of the world around us fades away, like the universe itself has paused. It’s just me and her—no one else matters.
Then—shit. She does that little thing of hers. Her eyes soften, and there’s now a mischievous gleam in them.
Finally seeing you with some clothes on. She quips.
Getting excited over clothes, meanwhile, I can’t wait to rip that dress off you.
She grins. Clara worked hard on it!
I don’t give a damn.
After clearing her throat, Farah steps up before us to officiate, raising her arms in an ancient, powerful gesture. The magic in the room seems to bend toward her, vibrating across both of our bodies. Julia and I face each other, hands clasped, as the words we speak flow into the stillness, echoing through the charged air. We exchange simple vows of honor and love, pledging to stand as equals, to protect one another, and to cherish the bond that unites us. The atmosphere thickens with the weight of promises, and our soul tie is made almost tangible in the silence that follows.
Then, Farah’s voice sounds through the hall, “By the power granted to me by my ancestors and the realms beyond, I now pronounce you husband and wife…”
Penny approaches from the side with the crown, resting on the velvet pillow. Farah places it on Julia’s head—diamond and gold, delicate yet heavy—as an instant symbol of her new role, and continues, “And I declare Julia to be Queen by the King’s side. May their reign be long and prosperous.”
I watch as the crown rests on her copper curls, and for a split second, I see the flicker of hesitation on her face, as though she’s still unsure whether she truly belongs here. It disappears once she catches my gaze again, and I know— she is ready .
I lean in for a kiss, our lips meeting softly at first, then deepening into something unspoken, a promise sealed at that moment. Her warmth fills me, grounding and electrifying all at once.
The room is still for a heartbeat before it erupts in cheers. I can’t help but smile, a burst of pride swelling in my chest, and my heart beating louder than the applause.
She’s here. By my side. As my equal.
Farah steps back, giving us a small nod, and the entire room moves to make way for us. We walk up a few steps to the thrones, then turn to face the crowd.
“Bow to your Queen,” I announce to the entire kingdom, my voice steady and commanding.
One by one, all the beings of the Veil lower themselves with much dignity. Only Satan remains standing because that prideful jerk bows to no one—obviously. But he nods in Julia’s direction—a sign of respect, rare and significant.
She then takes her place on the throne, and I rest in my seat next to her. Shoulder to shoulder, our hands never separating. I hold hers firmly, my thumb brushing its back, silently telling her she’s not alone. She’s never been alone.
Her grip tightens in mine, and she glances up to smile at me. “That was… a lot,” she whispers.
“Get used to it, little Red.”
I can feel every eye on us, but it’s her I’m watching. It’s always her. It’s always been her. She’s probably the only one in this room who doesn’t understand just how much she’s taken me over. I’ve seen her a thousand times before, but this moment—it’s different.
Now, as I see her in her gown, wearing her crown, and sitting on her throne, I’m falling for her all over again.
So perfect.
And so mine .