Chapter 205: It Was Mine All Along
"Union confirmed."
The hall exhaled as one, a controlled release of tension that rippled through the gathered nobles, restrained applause and murmured approval rising in careful waves that never disrupted the solemnity of the moment.
Outside, long after the formalities had ended and the distant sounds of celebration had settled into the busy highmoon, Emma stood just beyond the grand doors. She adjusted the sleeve of her gown, fingers lingering there a moment longer than necessary, like she was trying to anchor herself back into the pack.
"That was... less dramatic than I expected," she said at last, her voice carrying a quiet honesty.
Brandon stepped beside her, loosening the collar of his ceremonial attire as though finally releasing a breath he had been holding for far too long. "You wanted drama?" he asked, glancing at her briefly.
"I wanted preparation," she corrected without hesitation.
A quiet pause settled between them, comfortable, and settling.
"So did I," he said simply.
And without needing to decide anything further, they began walking side by side, leaving the royal court behind them as though it had always been inevitable that they would walk forward together.
They drove down to the palace for the reception.
The royal mating reception and the crowning of the new Alpha King and queen Luna dominated the news. Nobles from every corner of the kingdom attended, making it the most talked-about event of the day.
The mating was one of the most thoughtful nobles have ever attended. The palace was an ideal venue for the caliber of nobles that were in attendance. They were quite impressed by their style. It was different from the normal royal mating they had attended.
Their gorgeous pictures were trending on all social media platforms. There were live videos from newswolves who covered the event.
It was the happiest moment of their lives and Emma never stopped flaunting her ring fingers. She really loved her mating ring. It was the best. She kept smiling as they made their way out of the hall.
The Greendor castle and its golden lights were welcoming. She looked at the castle and smiled.
"Let’s go," Brandon said, his voice low but steady, as if the decision had already been made long before he spoke it. Before Emma could even gather a response, his arm slipped beneath her knees and around her back, lifting her clean off the ground as though she weighed nothing at all.
A small, startled laugh slipped from her lips as her hands instinctively found his shoulder. "Starlit...put me down," she whispered, though there was no real protest in it, only surprise and the faint embarrassment of feeling too visible in the open corridor. "People are staring."
"Let them stare. We’re officially the Alpha King and Queen Luna now," he said, not missing a step as he walked forward with quiet confidence.
Emma’s breath caught for a moment, then softened into something quieter as she let herself settle against him, her eyes drifting instead of fighting him now. The castle unfolded around them like a living painting—walls etched with intricate gold patterns that caught the light in delicate flashes, towering arches opening into corridors that seemed to stretch endlessly, and chandeliers suspended like frozen constellations above polished marble floors that reflected every movement like water.
Her gaze kept wandering, unable to settle, as though her mind refused to accept that all of it was real. "Is this... real?" she murmured at last, almost to herself, her voice carrying the kind of awe that made even the air feel heavier.
Brandon glanced down at her briefly, his expression unreadable but kind. "You’re in it, aren’t you?"
Emma gave a faint shake of her head, still looking around as if she might wake up at any second. "It feels like I walked into a dream I don’t deserve," she said softly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he carried her through another set of doors, past guards who stepped aside in silence, and into a quieter corridor where the light turned warmer and softer, as though the castle itself was lowering its voice for them.
Only then did he stop in front of a private chamber and push the door open with his shoulder.
Emma barely had time to take in the high ceiling and the velvet-draped furniture before he set her down gently. Her feet touched the floor, and she swayed slightly before catching herself, letting out a breathless laugh as she stepped back. "Okay... okay, I’m on my feet now."
But Brandon didn’t give her space for long. He closed the distance again almost immediately, his hand finding her wrist with a light grip—firm enough to hold her there, gentle enough not to trap her.
"You keep running your mouth," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on hers as if he were studying something only he could see.
Emma lifted her chin, still catching her breath, her smile refusing to fade. "And you keep picking me up," she shot back, though her voice softened at the edges as she said it.
That earned a faint exhale from him, something close to a smile but not fully surrendered. "Only when you act like you’re going to disappear on me."
For a moment, neither of them moved. The chamber felt smaller without either of them realizing it, the air between them thickening in a way that made sound feel unnecessary. Emma’s laughter faded slowly, replaced by soft moaning more uncertain, as she looked up at him and forgot for a second what she was going to say next.
Brandon leaned in, kissing and exploring her like there won’t be next time, closing the distance until his forehead nearly brushed hers. He made crazy love to her which marked the beginning of their honeymoon.
"Emma," he said, her name carrying more weight than the silence around them.
Her breath caught slightly. "What?" she whispered.
He didn’t answer with words this time.
He simply closed the final space between them, and the world outside the door stopped mattering altogether. Emma clung to him, her wolf trembling as wave after wave of warmth rushed through her. They remained locked together long after the peak had passed, unwilling to break the fragile stillness.
When Emma finally stepped out again, the light in the corridor felt different, as if time had shifted while she wasn’t looking. Her hair had been carefully re-pinned, and her gown had been changed into something simpler yet still elegant enough to carry her through the upcoming book signing. She smoothed her sleeves once, fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary, then exhaled slowly as if grounding herself back into reality.
Brooklyn was the first to spot her. "Ready?" she asked, tilting her head slightly as she approached.
"As ready as I’ll ever be," she replied, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite hide the lingering daze in her eyes.
Emily stepped in, adjusting the edge of her sleeve with practiced ease. "Don’t overthink it," she said gently. "Just talk like you always do."
Elara gave a small nod beside them. "And don’t let them make you feel small."
Emma glanced between them, then nodded once. "I won’t."
Brandon appeared at her side then, quiet as ever, his presence steadying in a way she didn’t have to ask for. He looked down at her for a moment before speaking. "You good?"
She lifted her eyes to his. "I think so."
"You think?" he echoed, one brow lifting slightly.
A breathy laugh escaped her as she shook her head. "I’m fine."
"Good," he said simply, as if that settled everything. "Because they’ve been waiting."
The palace court was already filled when they arrived, the space arranged with careful precision—rows of guests seated in elegant order, voices kept low but restless with anticipation. Emma felt it the moment she stepped inside, the shift in air, the subtle ripple of attention turning toward her like a tide that had been waiting just beneath the surface.
Whispers followed almost instantly.
"Is that her?"
"She looks younger than I imagined..."
"That’s the author?"
Emma paused for only a heartbeat at the entrance before continuing forward, her steps steady even as every gaze seemed to find her at once. She kept her eyes forward, refusing to let herself shrink beneath the attention pressing in from every side.
Brandon leaned slightly toward her as they walked. "Don’t look at them too much," he murmured.
"I’m not," she whispered back, though her fingers tightened slightly at her side. "I’m just trying not to trip."
That earned a quiet, almost imperceptible sound of amusement from him, though he said nothing more.
The signing began soon after, and time began to lose its shape. Names blurred into faces, faces into books, books into signatures, and conversations into fragments of gratitude and admiration that came and went like waves. Hours passed—four of them—without Emma fully noticing until her hand began to feel the weight of repetition.
At some point between signatures, she turned slightly and caught Brandon checking his wristwatch again.
She leaned closer without breaking her rhythm. "We’re still on time," she murmured under her breath.
His eyes met hers briefly. "I know."
"But you’re still watching it."
"I like knowing when to leave," he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Emma let that settle, then turned back to the next guest, but not before her hand brushed his lightly under the table as he passed behind her, a quiet, grounding touch that no one else seemed to notice.
By the time evening settled over the palace, the crowd began to thin. Chairs emptied, voices softened, and footsteps drifted outward into corridors and courtyards as guests prepared to leave for distant lands.
At exactly 9:45 PM, the convoy arrived outside the palace gates, engines humming low beneath the night sky.
Emma stood beside Brandon at the top of the steps, the cool air brushing against her skin as she watched the distant lights gather below. Behind them, Brooklyn stepped forward first, pulling her into a quick hug.
"Don’t disappear again," she said, her voice half serious, half teasing.
"I won’t," Emma answered softly.
Elara squeezed her hand next, steady and firm. "You did well today."
Emily followed with a small, approving nod. "I’m proud of you."
Emma blinked once, then smiled. "Thank you."
Brandon stepped closer, his voice low beside her. "Come on."
Inside the royal convoy, the world outside blurred into motion—lights stretching into streaks, darkness folding gently around them as they rose into the moonfall. The engine’s hum filled the silence in a steady rhythm.
At exactly 10:00 PM, the flight lifted.
Emma leaned back slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing as if it had been waiting for permission to leave. Without thinking, her head found Brandon’s shoulder, and he didn’t move away.
After a while, his voice broke the quiet. "You’re quiet."
"I’m thinking," she replied softly.
"About what?"
She stared out the window for a moment, watching the palace shrink into distant light below them. "About how I was told not to attend this royal mating," she said quietly, "and how I still did."
Brandon turned his head slightly toward her. "And?"
A faint smile curved her lips, small but certain.
"And it turns out it was mine all along."
Brandon slipped his hand over hers without hesitation, his grip warm and steady.
She laced her fingers through his and glanced out the window. The lights of the kingdom shimmered below, fading into the moon as the aircraft waited on the runway.
A soft chime sounded through the cabin.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be taking off shortly."
Emma turned back to Brandon, a spark of excitement flickering in her eyes. Whatever awaited them in Monaco, they would face it together.
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