Chapter 45
Fawn
T he day room of my quarters has been commandeered as a dressing room. My mates have been sent to prepare themselves elsewhere.
Maids bustle around me under the direction of Seven’s indomitable sisters.
Blue, my old hound, lies in the shade on the balcony, watching proceedings with curiosity.
“Doesn’t she look beautiful?” Estelle gushes.
“Magical,” Luna agrees.
“Simply stunning,” Petunia says.
“Resplendent! The perfect queen,” Persa agrees, smiling, even as she reaches to rub her lower back.
“Oh, are you sure you’ll be alright, Persa?” I ask. She is at the late stage of pregnancy. The birth is imminent. Even before my state of pregnancy, I was excited to meet the babe. Now I am with child myself, the arrival of a babe and everything about it holds a new, much more personal curiosity and thrill.
Persa waves a dismissive hand. “I’ve had words with the baby. It is assuredly not coming until after the ceremony.”
“Do you think it might be twins,” I blurt out.
Estelle chuckles. “I’ve had bets on it with Gideon,” she says. “He believes it might be triplets.”
Persa huffs a little breath and pouts, but I see a twinkle of amusement. “My mates also think it might be twins. But we shall find out soon enough… after the ceremony and not before.”
The ceremony.
The all-important ceremony.
The one where I become queen.
My best friend Luna, her mate and son, along with her dear mother, Petunia, have traveled all this way to witness the happy event—with a bit of help from Seven’s fae allies and their magic portal, no less.
I have been primped and prepared, bathed, and treated with sweet lotions. My hair has been carefully curled and hangs long down my back, studded with tiny white flowers and sparkling gemstones.
“Now all that is missing is a crown,” Estelle says, clapping her hands together.
“I cannot wait to see it,” Luna says, her smile broad.
I have seen the crown. Seven showed it to me yesterday, wanting me to be familiar with it before the ceremony. Only I don’t think I will ever be familiar with it or the concept of becoming a queen. It all feels unreal, like I might pinch myself and discover this is a dream.
“With five such lusty mates,” Luna continues. “The after-party in your nest is sure to be wild.”
“Luna!” her mother shakes her head even as she laughs.
Luna grins and hugs me… carefully, for my golden gown, like my hair, is studded with gemstones. “I’m so happy for you, Fawn. So happy you got your Wolf.” She winks. “And the noble stags are a definite bonus.”
As I share a look with the four women, some I have known long and some I have met recently, I experience gratitude.
I think back to my fateful fifth birthday when I snuck away from home and met Seven in the ruin of the old mill. Little did I know he was a prince who would one day claim me as a queen.
I move onward to the cottage on the outskirts of Blackrock Pack and the happy times I had with my Mama and Papa before they left me to join the Goddess. It was here I met and fell in love with the handsome wolf shifter who would become my first mate: Wolf.
I think, too, of my dear friend Luna and her mother Petunia, here with me today, and all the neighbors and friends I knew among the pack.
My arrival here, meeting Nox and Eiden, and finally, Gideon.
And, of course, Persa and Estelle have already claimed me as their sister.
“I think it is time for the grand reveal,” Persa says.
Servants are called, and a great, gilded mirror is wheeled into the room.
A small gasp escapes my lips as I see myself for the first time. My dress is made of pale gold silk and shimmers in the sunlight. It has a full silk skirt with gemstones sewn into the fabric, a modest neckline, and long bell sleeves. My long hair has been woven into intricate plaits that cascade down my back.
I twist this way and that, the sting of happy tears at the back of my eyes.
“It does not look like me,” I say.
Persa leans in to kiss my cheek. “It looks exactly like you.”
“Because it is you,” Estelle says, kissing my other cheek.
“You look like a queen,” Luna beams.
“Your late Mama and Papa would be so proud,” Petunia says, taking my hands in hers.
A knock sounds on the door.
A guard enters and bows. “Your escorts are here, my lady.”
My heart skips a beat. By escorts, he means my mates. Well, all except Seven, who will await me in the grand hall.
“Oh, I am not ready! I cannot do this.”
“You are, my dear,” Estelle says. “And you can. Nobody is more worthy of becoming our queen nor more worthy of the love my brother feels for you—that all your mates feel for you. You have made a home for yourself here. You carry our future heir. You are the mate of Seven, the seventh coming of Cernunnos. He knew instantly the Goddess herself had destined you to become his queen. You are mate to Jude, your Wolf, a proud shifter of the Blackrock Pack. And to Nox, and Eiden, and dear Gideon. They are all your mates, and you shall be their queen. Now, they are waiting, likely fretting that something is amiss. Are you ready, Fawn? Are you ready to take your place at their sides?”
She is right. They will be worried by the delay, so I take a deep breath and nod.
“She is ready,” Estelle says, a firm voice that carries. “Send them in!”
The guard throws open the doors, and my mates all but fall into the room.
Wolf is first. I barely recognize him in the royal-blue silk suit, the long jacket embroidered in a delicate silver thread, and his hair and beard neatly trimmed. A broad grin splits his face as he strides over to me.
“Stunning.” He takes my hand, bowing as he brings it to his lips.
Next comes Nox in a black suit with gold thread. He looks devastatingly handsome as he puts a firm hand on Eiden’s shoulder. “Wait your turn, whelp,” he mutters with a grin. He strides forward to take my hand, bowing formerly as he likewise kisses the back of it.
Eiden is hot on his heels, his suit in a deep forest green with white embroidery. He bows deeply. His eyes shine with approval and love. “You are surely the most beautiful queen ever,” he says, kissing my hand.
“You can let her go now,” Nox says dryly.
Eiden cuts him a glare as he releases my hand.
And then Gideon is there. My Gideon. My fifth and final mate in a crimson suit with pale gold threadwork.
His cheeks are flushed as he takes my hand and kisses it reverently. “I love you, Fawn. My queen.”
“I am not quite a queen yet.”
“And you never will be unless we get this moving along,” Estelle says, clapping her hands together.
Seven
I am not a male who often suffers from jitters. Events and occasions steeped in pomp and ceremony are second nature to me.
But I have never been crowned with a queen.
Never before found my one.
The arrival of my sisters, along with Fawn’s friends, Luna and Petunia, sets my heart pounding with anticipation. They slip into the front row. Persa joining her mates. Estelle beside them. Luna takes her place beside her fearsome orc mate and the young boy with his father’s coloring, who grins up at his grandmother and mother.
Estelle offers me a small, encouraging smile and a nod.
Gods. Why am I so nervous?
It’s not like she will suddenly change her mind… will she?
A trumpet sounds, and the grand double doors at the entrance open.
There she is. Fawn. Such a simple name, yet it perfectly encapsulates everything that she is, and that quickly, all my worries fade away.
Sweet and beguiling.
Ravishing.
Saucy and playful.
All ours.
She enters, flanked by Jude and Nox. Behind come Eiden and Gideon.
Her whimsical dress is made of pale gold silk—the color matching my suit—encrusted with jewels that sparkle in the sunlight streaming down from the grand hall’s high, domed ceiling. Her long, luscious hair is intricately curled and likewise sparkles.
Yet it is her eyes, those pretty brown eyes shining with love, that capture and command my gaze.
Under the fanfare of trumpets, she glides toward me, past bowing nobles and dignitaries. There is a blush on her cheeks. Her smile is a little wobbly. My love is nervous too.
Nox passes her hand to me with a bow and steps back to join her other mates.
I bring her hand to my lips. “You look beautiful, my love.”
Fawn
The celebrant steps forward to address the hushed crowd, and the ceremony begins.
I repeat the worlds of acceptance, of joining, of taking the responsibility of being a queen.
Not once does Seven relinquish my hand, which trembles within his.
The event feels unreal, like I’ve stepped outside myself and am watching from afar. So, it comes as a surprise when I realize the ceremony is reaching its climax. The celebrant takes the first crown from a velvet cushion and places it upon Seven’s head, an ornate golden scrolling design filled with gems.
Another crown, the same but smaller, is waiting on the second velvet cushion.
Seven takes this one.
“I, Seven, the firstborn of Cranston, Master Stag, and the seventh coming of Cernunnos, claim Fawn as my queen.”
Crown in his hands, he carefully sets it atop my head.
It has surprising weight.
He leans in to kiss each cheek and then lightly upon my lips. He smiles. Taking my hand within his, he turns me to face the waiting crowd. “I present to you, your queen, Queen Fawn!”
The crowd cheers. “All hail Queen Fawn! All hail Queen Fawn!”
Thank you so much for reading Fawn .