26.
Queen
I am the Queen.
It doesn’t even sound real. Yet, the crown on my head says otherwise.
But it really doesn’t matter all that much, not to me. What is truly important is Alex. Our union. Yes, I’m already wearing his mark on my neck—I’ve been wearing it. And I know he thinks this marriage thing is ridiculous, but that verbal public declaration of our love meant something to me. He’s all mine —officially.
I’ve never been happier. I mean it. After everything… it’s hard to believe.
Except, I still have night terrors about Lilith. But a few bad dreams seem like a small price to pay. And panic attacks… though, Alex is exceptional at comforting me. It’s not that big of a deal.
Both my parents are safe—surprisingly, Lilith was telling the truth about not harming my mother. They just left for Europe a few days ago, and I feel so much better with them starting over in a new place. They deserve to be happy, too. Farah and Penny put an even stronger protection on them, knowing that the demons also pose a danger to them. I suppose as long as they are in the real world, they will always be vulnerable, but that’s all we can do.
I have a new family. A family that chooses me every day. And I even made some new friends recently. Not only were many creatures rescued from Area 51, but also women—young human women, some of whom are pregnant, carrying genetic experiments nobody can predict. Despite all the trauma and craziness, it makes this place feel a little more normal, a bit warmer with them around.
I finally feel like I belong—everything sorta fell into place. But it’s not the end by any means—it’s only the beginning for us. And with Alex literally being grounded in the Veil, the future has never seemed brighter.
Yet, it’s also bittersweet. He’s Lilith’s main target…
No, not tonight. Tonight we celebrate.
We move from the Throne Hall into the Grand Ballroom for the reception, where everyone starts offering their best wishes. The entire space is a vision of pure opulence, bathed in the flickering lights of crystal chandeliers above, shimmering like stars and casting a dazzling glow across the polished black-and-white checkered marble floor. A light breeze rushes in from the open balcony, with the stunning backdrop of the aurora’s colorful display. Tables draped in fine silk line the walls, each one adorned with lavish gold and crystal centerpieces. The rich scent of blooming roses and sweet treats fills the air, mingling with the haunting sound of string instruments echoing through the high-vaulted cathedral ceiling.
It’s not conventional in any sense, but hey, there’s food, there’s wine, there’s music… and most importantly, there’s my Alex.
Currently, he’s talking with Satan, leaning casually against a pillar, his amber eyes locked on me, full of promise—dark, filthy promise. I don’t need to read his mind to know exactly what he’s thinking. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking the same—how to get the hell out of here and jump his bones already.
Oh, come on! I didn’t expect him to shift for the ceremony, and it was a total surprise to see this gorgeous man waiting for me. He’s dressed to kill, wearing that damn black velvet, high-collared Victorian tailcoat with gold embroidery. The fabric clings to his broad shoulders and the powerful lines of his body. He looks so sharp. He always does—as a man, just as much as the beast. I mean, even that first night I saw him, there was this undeniable attraction, an almost magnetic pull. But when I look at him now? He’s simply dreamy—in a gothic, nightmarish kind of way. And sure, I might be biased. But I’m sorry—not even Satan looks this good in all his perfect beauty. Alex has this dark edge, something dangerous yet provocative, that’s so fucking sexy it takes my breath away… and makes wetness pool between my legs.
By the way, I’m not the only one who thinks so. I can hear excited whispers all around. Everyone is talking. Mostly about me—or rather that insanely showstopping, heavy as hell, gown that Clara made—but about Alex too .
I’m aware that, except for his family, no one in the kingdom has seen his human form before, and… well, ladies have pretty strong reactions to this debut—which, let’s be real, I can’t blame them for. But it still pisses me off.
“I get it now,” Meg leans in conspiratory, as if Alex couldn’t hear every single word together with each intake of air she takes, the beating of her heart, or the blood rushing in her veins. Even in his human form, his senses are as heightened as ever.
I see that stupid sexy smirk playing at the corner of his mouth that confirms all of it.
Uh, try not to gloat. I tell him telepathically, pouting in his direction, which only makes him laugh. God, the butterflies in my stomach…
Then, my brows furrow as my attention snaps back to Meg. “Really? Are you really going to tell me how hot my husband is on our wedding night?”
“Chill the fuck out.” She waves me off, pouring herself more wine. “All I’m saying is congratulations, bitch!” And with that, she moves away toward the dessert table.
“But just for the record,” I shout after her, “I didn’t know what he looked like before… or that he was a king.”
She spins around with a smug. “Yeah, I know you’d be the one to go for a wolf.”
The wolf. My wolf.
I sneak a peek back at him again. Both he and Satan are now watching me, whispering to each other and chuckling like two schoolgirls—the Devil and the Antichrist… what a hilarious start to a joke.
“I might hate him a little less without the fur,” Katia remarks, snapping me out of my thoughts. When I look at her in shock, I see her staring at Alex. “Only because he and Pen look so much alike,” she adds before leaning over me to whisper, “That’s some great taste you have, Red.”
“Always the underdog,” Edwin murmurs to himself, his voice a mix of amusement and resignation.
He’s also in his human form—the premiere of me seeing him like this—and it seems he might’ve drawn the short stick from the genetic pool. Even so, he’s still handsome—just in a more rugged, huskier kind of way. Tall and muscular, with golden olive skin, dark brown hair, and a heavy beard—what’s not to like here? And who doesn’t like a good underdog story?
Clara snuggles close to him, rubbing slow circles on his chest as she smiles up at him. “Guess you’re lucky I find rough ‘round the edges… irresistible .”
They’re adorable. With the two new babies they just decided to “adopt”, they seem even closer and happier than ever.
“Anyway,” Katia continues, a playful glint in her crimson eyes. “Julia, are you wearing my wedding gift?”
Her wedding gift … meaning, the sluttiest bridal lingerie set and designer heels to pair it with.
Yes, of course , I’m wearing it.
Penny bursts out laughing, seeing the embarrassment written all over my face. “I’m pretty sure that’s Kat’s way of burying the hatchet with Alexander.”
I swear, I better not hear them later, complaining about how loud I was, when they are the ones literally pimping me out.
Suddenly, I hear Vernox’s gravelly voice behind me, “May I have this dance?”
I spin around, and I couldn’t be more glad to not have to be a part of that ridiculous conversation any longer.
But, in an instant, Alex’s disapproving growl rumbles in my head.
Vernox seems to read my expression and adds,“Let me guess, the groom hates our friendship.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Ah, so we’re friends now?”
“Yes,”he replies firmly, his eyes glowing with certainty.“Yes, we are.”
“He’ll get over it,”I respond with a shrug.“It’s just… he and I didn’t even get a chance to dance yet.”
“I see.”Vernox nods in understanding, though his pointy ears twitch slightly with irritation. He pauses for a moment, gazing at me, before continuing,“I wanted to say goodbye. I’ll be leaving tonight.”
“But it’s not really a goodbye, is it?”I ask, something tugging at my heart—I’m going to miss this damn gargoyle.“I really hope it’s her, and to see you both soon.”
“I’ll do my best.”He bows his head with his right clawed hand on his heart as his eyes pierce mine. Then, a little smirk curves his lips.“You make a spectacular bride, my Queen.”
My cheeks flush hotly, and I giggle nervously.“Now you’re just asking to get beaten again.”My eyes quickly dart to my man. He looks furious, while Satan seems highly amused next to him, laughing in his angelic kind of way.
Vernox gives me a full smile and walks away without another word, his wings shifting with each step, tail curling behind him. I follow his movements with my eyes and watch how he exits the ballroom, hoping it’s not the last time I see him.
And I truly wish him all the best.
With a sigh, I turn back to the table and pour myself more wine. Just a second later, Alex’s strong, wide arms are around me, his soft, full lips ghosting over my neck.
“You’re so over the top for no reason,” I complain. The man has zero chill… and I love him for it. Sort of. Maybe. Definitely.
“Oh, because I don’t want a fucking garden decoration to compliment my wife?” he doubles down.
I repeat— over the goddamn top .
“You’re all mine now,” he murmurs into my ear, his voice low and possessive.
I smile like an idiot to myself. “I thought I was already yours,” I snark, turning my face to the side to look at him. “You know, this is more like a formality .”
He leans in even closer, his tone getting all growly. “You’re a royal pain in my ass, you know that, right?”
“Would you love me as much if I wasn’t?”
He doesn’t answer. His lips crash into mine, passionate and demanding, as if he’s claiming me all over again. This isn’t a kiss meant for public consumption, but everything else fades into the background as I melt into him, forgetting for a moment that—oh right—there’s an audience. I don’t care… I can’t. I’m already half-drunk on him, on the way he looks at me, the way he kisses me, the way he owns the room—and me.
Then, I feel him grasping my wrist as he twirls me away and nods toward the dance floor. “Shall we?”
The music changes, a slower, darker melody, and he leads me into the middle of the room. The crowd parts for us, making way. I can feel their eyes on us, their curiosity, their judgment.
As we start to move to the rhythm, Alex’s large hand settles low on my waist, fingers pressing just a little too firmly, a little too possessively. His other hand captures mine, pulling me close until there’s barely any space between us—so close I can feel the heat of him through the ridiculous amount of layers of my gown. Even in his human form and with me wearing heels, he’s still so tall that my eyes are level with his chest. His scent fills my senses, making my head spin. It’s different now from his natural werewolf musky forest vibe that I’m used to—smoke, spice, leather, power, and something wild. He’s such a fine man. I have to keep reminding myself to breathe because of the way his perfectly disheveled black hair falls over his face, his darkening eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re staring,” I tease, though I stare at him with the same intensity.
“Can’t help it,” he admits. “You’re breathtaking.”
He spins me, the movement is sudden yet gentle, then brings me even closer, his palm sliding lower, fingers teasing the curve of my ass through my puffy skirt. His other hand traces down my arm, then across my side and onto the small of my back, closing me in a tight embrace.
I shoot him a look, my heart pounding as my chest heaves, compressing against the tight corset with each inhale. “Act like a gentleman,” I whisper, trying to sound stern, though it comes out all breathless instead.
His eyes darken further, wandering lower to my cleavage. With a smirk, he leans in, his lips brushing against my collarbone, thick stubble tickling my skin. “Not a chance.”
The music wraps around us, but the only thing I can hear is my own heartbeat thundering in my ears as my pulse quickens. The tension between us coils tighter with every step, every touch, every little kiss. His wet lips trail a searing path up my neck, his tongue darting out to taste the heat of my skin, leaving a delicious sting of possession behind. His breath is hot against my ear as he reaches it, his voice low and raw, settling deep within me. “I’m fucking all your holes tonight, baby.”
Umm, that’s one way to kick off a royal wedding reception.
My brain malfunctions, my breath catches like I’ve forgotten how oxygen works, and my cheeks flush so hard I might actually catch fire.
He knows what he’s doing to me. Of course, he does. That look of wicked amusement on his irritatingly handsome face says it all.
Before I can regain control, his hand sneaks beneath the tulle of my gown, fingertips grazing my thigh, leaving a trail of tingles in their wake.
“Mmmm, what do you have over here,” he rasps, discovering my high-knee stockings held up by the strings of the lace garter belt.
In a rush, my senses snap back, and I’m suddenly hyperaware of everything . The heavy thrum of the music, the weight of every gaze on us, the ghost of his hand moving higher, onto the bare patch of skin of my inner thigh, branding me.
My breath is getting shallower. “Alex,” I choke in a tight voice. “People can see us.”
Fuck, they are all watching our first dance. Are they watching?
He grins—this wicked, predatory grin of his that makes every nerve end in my body buzz in excitement. “Good. Let them see.”
Is he serious?
My heart is doing Olympic-level gymnastics. I mean, sure, I’m crowned now, but does that give me a free pass to get handsy with the King in front of an entire kingdom? I don’t think so.
I should care, right? I should be mortified. Scandalized, just like they all probably are.
But when his expert fingers find the expensive lace of my panties, the fragile barrier teasing both of us with the anticipation of what lies beneath, all coherent thought leaves the building. I can only think about how badly I want more.
I feel how wet I am for him as his fingers stroke me, slow and deliberate, working magic between my legs. His touch is a calculated assault, firm and devastatingly precise, the friction against my clit through the delicate fabric sending spirals of pleasure crashing through me. He then pushes the crotch of my panties aside to get better access, and his long fingers slide over my slickness, spreading my arousal.
Oh, damn.
“You’re soaked,” he murmurs with his mouth on my throat, his voice rough and hungry. “You like being watched, don’t you?”
What kind of exhibitionist queen does he think I am?
I shake my head, but my body betrays me, hips arching into his touch. A molten thrill courses through my veins—the same kind when I subconsciously knew that Alex was watching me for weeks back in the cottage. Okay, maybe I do have a kink…
“You can pretend all you want, sweetheart,” he whispers, his low, gravelly voice exuding satisfaction. “But your pussy doesn’t lie. You fucking love this. Knowing they’re watching me toy with you, right in front of their curious eyes.”
His words cause a shocking shiver to surge down my spine, heat pooling even deeper, setting me alight. A quiet moan escapes my parted lips, and I slap my hand over my mouth, eyes darting around as panic flickers at the back of my head.
Is anyone seeing this? Are they pretending not to?
My gown is so huge it could double as a parachute. I’m almost certain it shields me from view. And I’m pressed up so firmly against him that I can feel every hard inch of his body—yes, his rapidly growing erection, too.
Oh, God, but they know either way with their supernatural senses. I’ll never hear enough of it.
“Quit overthinking and relax for me,” he purrs seductively, his free arm tightening over my waist, his fingers dancing around my quivering entrance. “Let everyone see who you belong to.”
My cheeks burn hotter and I tremble against his firm body. “Alex, this is… Shit! This is so inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?” His eyes flash, dark and dangerous. “You’re dripping on my hand, Julia.” He kisses me deeply, his lips soft yet demanding, our tongues battling for dominance. Simultaneously, his fingers slide in and out of my eager cunt with a slow, torturous rhythm. “Tell me to stop,” he breathes against my lips. “Tell me.”
I can’t. I won’t. Instead, I clutch at his jacket, nails digging in. His fingers curl inside me, hitting that spot that makes my vision go fuzzy at the edges. His thumb circles my clit, gentle at first, then with just enough pressure to make me moan louder. My inner walls clench around him, silently begging for more sensation… in the middle of the ballroom like a total slut.
Reading my mind, he growls, “But you’re my slut .” His voice is thick with lust and he lightly bites my bottom lip.
He never called me that… and why the hell does it sound so sexy rolling off his tongue?
I nod, my voice lost to the pleasure building inside me, my knees going weak. He doesn’t need my words. My body tells him everything he needs to know and then some, rocking against his talented fingers as they work me with ruthless precision, each stroke dragging me closer to the edge.
“So fucking needy. Do you know what that does to me, seeing you like this? Helpless. Desperate. Mine.”
His thumb presses harder against my clit, and I bite my lip to stifle a cry that threatens to spill out. My skin is burning, my pussy humming with the need to let go.
“Say it,” he commands. “Tell me who owns you.”
“You,” I mouth, barely audible.
“Good girl.”
The praise sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through me and I almost reach the peak. But he pulls his fingers from me, and I whimper at the loss.
Chuckling pridefully, he brings his hand to his mouth, eyes locked on mine as he licks my arousal from his fingers.
“I’m fucking obsessed with you,” he growls, his voice rough with need. “And I’m going to make sure everyone knows just how badly.”
Leaving me with no time to respond, he steps back, his body shuddering, eyes glowing gold. Oh… Oh . I only hear a tearing sound of his clothes, and a heartbeat later, he shifts. His massive werewolf form looms over me, all dark fur and raw power, his eyes blazing with desire.
A low growl rumbles through his chest, vibrating against my body as he pulls me close again. His hand, now tipped with claws, dips back under my skirt and cups my entire mound. Careful but intense, those lethal weapons of his graze my most sensitive skin in an adrenaline-spiking tease.
With his other hand, he rakes his claws down the front of my corset, slicing through it like paper, and it’s gone—just like that. My breasts spill free, my nipples tightening in the cool air, and I gasp, torn between shock and the jolt of electricity snapping over my entire body.
Growling, he leans down, his long tongue flicking over one hard bud, sharp teeth grazing it just enough to send a tide of pleasure down to my core.
“Alex…” My voice is stuck between a warning and a plea.
But his tongue laps against my skin and my body arches into him, every inch of me desperate for more. And I forget about the crowd, the crown, and everything else.
There’s only him—the King. My King.
“You’re going to beg and scream for me tonight, Julia,” he rasps hoarsely with his eyes locked on mine. “And everyone will know exactly who is making you feel this good.”
Then, in one swift motion, he lifts me into his arms, carrying me through the crowd like a prize he’s claimed. I know his fur is thick enough to cover me entirely, though the whispers follow us, a mix of outrage and envy. Yet, all I can focus on is the promise in his eyes that this night is far from over.