Chapter 35 Riley
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Riley
Coronation day. Wedding day. I stared at myself in the mirror and barely recognized the woman looking back.
My hair had been styled into an elaborate updo, woven with tiny white flowers and threads of gold. My makeup was flawless, the work of hours, multiple hands, and one very opinionated Sloane who had refused to let anyone else do my eyes. And the dress...
The dress was a masterpiece.
Pure white silk that flowed when I moved, embroidered with silver thread in patterns that echoed the Goldridge family crest. A neckline that was elegant but not too modest, because even on my wedding day, I refused to be boring. A train that seemed to go on forever.
And at my waist, impossible to hide, my bump.
I was showing now. Really showing. Four months along, and there was no pretending otherwise. The seamstress had accommodated it beautifully, designing the dress to flow around my growing belly rather than conceal it. Pregnant bride realness. Very on-trend for werewolf royalty, apparently.
“Stop fidgeting,” Sloane commanded, adjusting a strand of hair. “You look incredible.”
“I look like I’m about to pass out.”
“Same thing.”
The room was chaos. My bridesmaids, Sloane, Jade, Thessa, and Margo, were in various states of readiness, their matching silver gowns catching the light. Someone was crying already. Someone else was laughing. There was champagne, even though I couldn’t have any, which felt cosmically unfair.
“I still can’t believe you’re marrying a werewolf prince,” Margo said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “I knew your books were good, but I didn’t think you were manifesting your own love life.”
“I wasn’t manifesting anything!”
“Sure, Jan.” Margo grinned through her tears. “Next you’ll tell me you didn’t write a hero with golden eyes on purpose.”
I had absolutely written a hero with golden eyes on purpose. Multiple times. But that was beside the point.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I said, ignoring that entirely too accurate observation.
“Believe it, bitch.” Sloane appeared beside me, resplendent in her maid-of-honor dress. “You’re marrying a werewolf prince and becoming a queen. This is literally the plot of one of your books.”
“My books usually have more angst.”
“You’ve had plenty of angst. Now you get the happily ever after.”
“What if I trip walking down the aisle?”
“Then you’ll go viral on werewolf TikTok. If they have one. Win-win.”
Thessa appeared on my other side, rolling her eyes at our banter but smiling despite herself.
She looked beautiful in silver, softer than usual, her edges smoothed by happiness.
Things with Jade were going well. Really well.
They’d been splitting time between realms, figuring out how to make it work, and from the looks they kept sneaking at each other across the room, they were figuring it out spectacularly.
“Are you ready?” Thessa asked.
I took a breath.
Was I ready?
Ready to marry Caelan. Ready to become queen of an entire werewolf realm. Ready to raise a child in a world I barely understood, surrounded by magic and politics and dangers I was only beginning to comprehend.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go get you married.”
And so they did.
***
The ceremony was everything I’d ever dreamed of. Well, everything I’d dreamed of, plus werewolves, plus royalty, plus an entire realm watching me marry their future king. So maybe more than I’d ever dreamed of. My imagination apparently needed to aim higher.
The great hall had been transformed. Flowers everywhere, from the greenhouse, I suspected, Elspeth’s touch evident in every arrangement.
Candles floated in the air, suspended by magic I didn’t understand but had learned to accept.
Ribbons of silver and gold draped from the ceiling, catching the light.
And at the end of the aisle, waiting for me, was Caelan.
He was in formal attire: a dark coat with gold embroidery, fitted trousers, a ceremonial sword at his hip. He looked every inch the prince he was. But when his gaze found mine, all that regal composure shattered. His expression broke into pure, unguarded joy, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Well. That was doing things to my heart.
I walked toward him.
My friends were on one side, Sloane and the book club girls, openly weeping.
The tattoo shop guys were there too, looking uncomfortable in formal wear but present nonetheless.
Dom had dropped an entire tray of ink when they’d learned about Caelan’s true nature.
Marco had sworn in three languages. Vinnie had simply nodded like he’d suspected all along.
But they’d come around quickly, especially after Caelan promised to never let anything happen to me.
His groomsmen stood on the other side. Patt, reliable Patt, grinning broadly.
Aedan, looking smug. And Benson and Tylo, childhood friends of Caelan’s who’d been traveling when everything happened.
I’d only met them a few weeks ago, but they’d slotted into our lives easily, all easy charm and terrible jokes between them.
The guests filled every seat.
I recognized some of them. Malachar and Wen were in the front row, Wen looking radiant in a gown that matched her eyes. Mal caught my eye and nodded, a small gesture of approval that meant more than I expected. Miracles did happen.
Other faces were less familiar. Other kings, I realized, with their human queen mates. Their children ran between the rows, giggling, being shushed by embarrassed parents. There were couples of all kinds, some clearly newly mated, others comfortable in their bonds.
They were all welcoming, and for the first time since I’d stumbled into this world of wolves and magic and impossible things, I didn’t feel out of place among them.
Maybe I did belong here. Maybe I’d always been meant to find my way to this moment, this aisle, this man waiting for me with his heart in his eyes.
I reached the altar, and Caelan took my hands. His fingers were trembling. The unshakeable prince, the future king, trembling because of me.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi.”
“You look...” He swallowed hard. “There are no words.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself.”
His lips twitched. Even at our wedding, I couldn’t resist being a smartass. It was a gift, really.
The officiant began the ceremony, a blend of wolf traditions and human ones, because we’d insisted on incorporating both.
There was the lighting of ceremonial candles, one gold and one silver, representing the joining of two souls.
There was the traditional human exchange of rings, which had made several wolf nobles murmur with curiosity.
Apparently the concept of jewelry as a marriage symbol was novel to them.
Who knew? And there was the binding of hands with a silk ribbon, an ancient wolf custom that symbolized the intertwining of fates.
We’d spent weeks planning this, weaving together customs from two worlds to create a ceremony uniquely ours. The officiant recited words in both English and the old wolf tongue, and when he asked the assembly to bless our union, the answering howls made the candle flames dance.
Then came the vows, and my heart climbed into my throat.
Caelan went first, his grip on my hands tightening.
“Riley,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes.
“When I walked into that bookshop, I was looking for answers about portals. I found an infinitely more important answer instead. I found you.” He squeezed my hands.
“You’ve challenged me. Frustrated me. Made me laugh when I’d forgotten how.
Made me a better wolf, a better prince, a better man.
I vow to spend every day of our lives earning you.
Protecting you. Loving you. Until my last breath and beyond. ”
My eyes were wet. Damn him. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t cry until at least the reception.
Then it was my turn.
“Caelan,” I began, my voice cracking, “I used to write about love like this. Epic, world-changing, against-all-odds love. I thought I was making it up. I thought it was fiction.” I let out a watery chuckle.
“Turns out I just hadn’t met you yet. You’ve given me a family.
A home. A future I never dared to imagine.
I vow to be your partner. Your equal. Your queen, even though I still have no idea what I’m doing.
” Laughter rippled through the crowd. “I vow to love you, annoy you, and make you read smutty books to me for the rest of our lives.”
The laughter grew louder.
Caelan’s eyes were bright with tears. “I accept those terms.”
“Do you, Prince Caelan of Duskmere, take Riley Hawkins-Mirabelle to be your mate and wife?”
“I do.”
“And do you, Riley Hawkins-Mirabelle, take Prince Caelan of Duskmere to be your mate and husband?”
“I do.”
“Then by the power vested in me by the realm and the moon goddess herself, I pronounce you mated and married. You may kiss your bride.”
Caelan didn’t hesitate.
He cupped my face, pulled me in, and kissed me. The crowd erupted into cheers, but I barely heard them. All I knew was his lips on mine, his hands on my skin, his heart beating against my chest.
We were married. Actually, properly, legally married. I was someone’s wife. Caelan’s wife. The thought kept spinning through my head, too wonderful to feel real, even as the crowd’s cheers faded and the hall shifted into a new kind of solemnity.
The coronation followed immediately.
Different crowns were brought forward, ancient, gleaming, carrying the weight of centuries. The King and Queen stepped down from their thrones, where they’d watched the entire ceremony with proud, tearful eyes.
“Today,” the King announced, his voice carrying through the hall, “Duskmere welcomes a new era. My son has proven himself in battle and in love. He has found a mate worthy of standing beside him. And together, they will lead our realm into a future of peace and prosperity.”
Caelan kneeled first.