Chapter 204: By Oath, Blood, and Witness
They knelt side by side, heads bowed, Brandon still holding her hand firmly as silence settled over them and the atmosphere shifted into something heavier, more sacred.
When a hand touched her palm, the pack elder paused for a brief moment before a faint smile appeared on his face, and something in Emma shifted as her breath caught and her thoughts drifted somewhere far away from the lounge.
For a moment, she wasn’t there anymore.
She was back in a place she hadn’t visited in a long time, standing in front of a memory that still felt too sharp, watching pieces of her life move in directions she hadn’t understood then and still didn’t fully understand now, until her vision blurred and a tear slipped free without permission.
Then another followed.
"It’s okay," Emily said quickly, stepping forward as Brooklyn moved in right beside her and pulled Emma gently into her arms, holding her steady while Emily wiped her cheek and repeated softly, "It’s okay," until Emma finally let out a slow breath and stayed still in their hold without saying a word.
"Soft fang, control your emotions. Your guests are staring at you," Emily whispered into her ear as she slowly wiped her eyes. She joined her mate on his chair.
The veneration was very brief because they had three major events. Royal Mating, Alpha and Luna Coronation & Book Signing. The book signing was scheduled for tomorrow but because they would spend three weeks in Monaco, the publishing company encouraged her to sign the books after the coronation.
Brandon and his people drove back to the palace after the first ceremony to dress up in his admiral outfit.
Her moonallies and Nicole’s bridal dresser took her to her chamber and dressed her up for the main occasion. The mating gown fitted her flawlessly.
The palace hall had already been filled long before Emma arrived, yet the moment she stepped through the grand entrance, it felt as though the entire space subtly recalibrated itself around her presence. Her steps slowed just slightly as her eyes traced the long rows of nobles arranged in disciplined silence, their elaborate robes and jeweled insignias catching the soft glow of suspended chandeliers, while guards stood rigid along the marble walls like carved extensions of the palace itself. Even the music, delicate and restrained as it drifted through the hall, seemed careful not to disturb the gravity of what was about to unfold.
A guard at her side leaned in with practiced discretion, his voice lowered to something almost respectful. "You’re next, my Luna."
Emma did not respond immediately. Her fingers brushed once against the fabric of her gown, as though grounding herself in something physical, before she gave a small nod that never quite reached her eyes.
Across the hall, near the raised ceremonial platform, Brandon stood with the High Moon Priest beside him. The King remained at his other side, speaking in low, measured tones that carried authority without effort, his expression composed in a way that revealed nothing of his thoughts. Brandon’s posture remained steady, but when the faint shift of the entrance doors echoed through the hall, his attention moved instantly, as though drawn by something inevitable rather than chosen.
The moment he saw her, everything else seemed to fall into a quieter distance. He gave a small nod, restrained but unmistakably aware, acknowledging her arrival without the need for anything more.
When she finally reached the front, standing before him beneath the weight of gathered gazes, Brandon broke the silence first, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "You’re late."
Emma lifted her chin with calm defiance, her expression composed even as the royal court pressed in around them. "I wasn’t late," she replied evenly, her tone carrying the faintest edge of challenge, "everyone else is just early."
Something flickered across his face at that, a breath that almost became a laugh before he suppressed it, returning once again to stillness as the High Moon Priest stepped forward.
"Bring forth the witnesses," the moon priest announced, and the hall responded with a subtle shift, as though a shared breath had been taken and held.
Emma turned first, her movements controlled but deliberate, and it was then that her father stepped out from the side aisle. Dressed in formal black threaded with silver insignia, he approached without hurry, his gaze settling on her with a weight that softened only slightly at the edges. For a moment, he said nothing at all, and the silence between them carried more than words could have.
"You don’t have to be scared," he said at last, his voice low, meant only for her.
Emma held his gaze.
"I’m not scared," she whispered, her eyes meeting his. "Not when you’re here with me."
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her gown, then eased. She smoothed it down, then again, slower this time, like the motion could settle her hands.
A breath slipped out before she could stop it.
She kept her eyes on him anyway.
Her father studied her for another lingering moment before offering his arm. Together, they began the walk down the aisle, every step resonating faintly against the polished marble floor, echoing into a hall that felt impossibly vast in its attention. Emma kept her gaze forward, yet she was acutely aware of every eye that followed her passage, every whispered breath contained behind disciplined decorum.
When they reached the front, her father paused. His gaze drifted to Brandon for a brief moment before returning to her. He let out a soft sigh and gave a small nod. "She’s stubborn," he admitted, "but she has one of the kindest hearts you’ll ever find."
Brandon did not hesitate, his answer immediate and firm. "I know."
A restrained ripple of amusement passed through the hall. Her father looked from Emma to Brandon, a look of quiet satisfaction settling on his face. Then he placed Emma’s hand into Brandon’s.
"Take care of her," he said simply, though the weight of the words was anything but simple.
Brandon’s grip tightened slightly around Emma’s hand, steady and certain. "I will," he replied without hesitation.
Her father held that moment for a heartbeat longer before stepping back, leaving her standing at the threshold of everything that would follow.
Across from them, Brandon shifted subtly as the King stepped forward. The atmosphere seemed to change with the King’s presence alone, the air itself feeling more measured, more formal, as though even the hall recognized authority when it moved.
The King rested a firm hand on Brandon’s shoulder. Though thousands watched, he spoke quietly, making the moment feel like it belonged to only the two of them.
"This is more than a bond," he said, holding Brandon’s gaze. "It’s a responsibility."
Brandon met his eyes without flinching. "I understand," he answered simply, and the certainty in his voice left no room for doubt.
The King regarded him for a moment longer, then gave a single approving nod before stepping back, allowing Brandon to stand fully opposite Emma.
The High Priest of the Moon Goddess raised both hands, and the hall quieted once more.
"By royal law and sacred bond," the moon priest intoned, his voice carrying clearly through the chamber, "do you come willingly to this union?"
Brandon answered first, his voice steady and without hesitation. "I do."
The priest turned his gaze to Emma, and for the briefest moment, the weight of the entire hall seemed to settle upon her shoulders. She exhaled slowly, as though choosing not only the words but everything that came with them.
"I do," she said at last, her voice calm and unwavering.
The priest continued, his tone deepening as tradition demanded. "Do you accept each other as mates, bound before pack and crown, in oath and truth?"
Brandon’s hand tightened around hers, grounding rather than restraining. "I accept," he said.
Emma did not look away from him as she answered, her voice quieter now but no less certain. "I accept."
The rings were brought forward on a velvet cushion, carried with reverent precision. Brandon took the first without breaking eye contact, and as he slid it onto her finger, his voice lowered into something meant only for her.
"I choose you," he said, so softly that it felt less like a declaration and more like a truth he had already been living.
Emma’s gaze did not waver as she took the second ring, though its weight seemed greater than its physical form. When she placed it onto his finger, her voice followed with quiet defiance, softened by something unspoken.
"Then don’t make me regret it."
Brandon’s gaze held hers for a long moment before he lifted a hand and brushed his thumb lightly across her knuckles. A faint smile touched his lips, softening the usual restraint in his expression.
"You won’t," he said quietly. "Because the only thing I’d regret is letting you walk away."
His thumb lingered against her skin as he held her gaze.
"I’m planning to spend the rest of my life proving you made the right choice."
"Good," she said quietly. "Because I’m planning to hold you to that."
The teasing faded from her voice as she met his gaze.
"And if you ever forget," she murmured, "I’ll remind you."
For a moment, she hesitated before adding, almost under her breath, "I don’t plan on letting you go that easily either."
For the briefest moment, something unguarded almost surfaced in his expression, but he restrained it, returning instead to composure as the priest stepped forward once more.
"By oath, blood, and witness," the High Priest of the Moon Goddess declared, his voice resonating through the hall like the closing of a sacred seal, "it is sealed."
A pause followed, heavy and absolute, before he delivered the final words.
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