Chapter 212: Wedding (Part 1)
Emily and her alphas had to leave the country for the ceremony—polygamous marriage wasn’t permitted back home—and that exile alone lent the day an otherworldly sheen, as if they were stepping into a dream woven from forbidden threads.
The venue was a sun-drenched villa perched on a cliffside in a distant, sun-kissed land, where the sea whispered against the rocks below and the air carried the faint salt of freedom.
Emily stood at the end of the aisle, her breath catching in shallow bursts beneath a veil of soft ivory lace that draped like mist over her shoulders. Her hands trembled lightly, fingers twisting the delicate fabric, as a whirlwind of nerves and joy churned in her chest.
Since she had no family of her own to claim this moment—no parents, no siblings to beam from the front row—Ana’s father and Lily’s father had stepped in with quiet grace.
They flanked her now, one on each side, their faces etched with solemn pride and the raw emotion of fathers witnessing a daughter’s leap into the unknown.
The five alpha women waited at the altar in matching white suits that accentuated their powerful, elegant frames—tailored sharply to highlight curves and strength, unable to contain the fierce intensity in their eyes.
Each looked impossibly stunning, their usual commanding presence softened by vulnerability—Hellen’s sexy build poised with tension, Reyes’ sharp, handsome face with awe, Ivory’s form radiating reverence, Ana’s warm figure steady as a hearth, and Lily’s quiet, statuesque strength glowing like a lighthouse in fog.
They were completely undone by her, their bride, who emerged like a vision from the haze of their shared dreams.
The music softened to a haunting melody of strings and harp, and the heavy oak doors creaked open on well-oiled hinges, spilling golden light across the petal-strewn aisle.
For a frozen moment, Emily could only stand there and breathe, the world narrowing to the rhythm of her pulse.
The veil framed her face in a delicate blur, turning the scene into a watercolour dream—an aisle stretching endlessly before her, lined with cascades of flowers in pale white roses, blush peonies, and baby’s breath that perfumed the air with sweetness.
Candles flickered in silver holders along the sides, their flames dancing like captured stars, casting a warm, sacred glow over the intimate gathering of close friends and chosen family.
The chandeliers above dripped crystal light, turning every surface to shimmer. Ana’s father, with his kind eyes, gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his callused palm a steady anchor. Lily’s father, taller and more reserved, nodded once, his voice a low rumble: "You are ready, child, even if your heart races ahead."
"You don’t have to rush," Ana’s father murmured, his tone laced with the wisdom of a man who’d walked his own daughters down similar paths.
Emily swallowed hard, her throat tight. "I know. It’s just... everything."
Lily’s father glanced down, his expression softening further, crinkles at the corners of his eyes betraying unshed tears. "You are not alone, child. Not anymore. Not ever."
That almost undid her, a sob rising before she could tamp it down, hot tears pricking behind her eyes.
She lifted the edge of her veil just enough to steady herself, inhaling the faint lavender scent of her bouquet—lilies and freesias, symbols of purity and trust—then let it fall again like a sigh.
Her gown, a masterpiece of ivory silk chiffon and hand-beaded lace, moved beautifully around her, the long train flowing behind like a trail of liquid light, whispering against the stone floor with each subtle shift.
Flowers woven into her upswept hair—tiny white orchids and baby’s breath—gave her the gentle look of someone both fragile and fiercely loved, her flushed cheeks glowing beneath the veil.
The five alpha women all straightened as one, a ripple of motion like warriors saluting their queen.
Hellen looked like she had forgotten how to breathe, her chest rising and falling unevenly, dark eyes wide with raw hunger tempered by reverence.
Reyes’ jaw tightened, a muscle ticking as if she warred with every alpha instinct screaming to claim her right then, her elegant hands flexing at her sides.
Ivory’s eyes locked on her with open admiration, a slow, appreciative smile curving her full lips, as if she were memorizing every shimmer and curve.
Ana’s gaze was soft and warm, brimming with the quiet certainty of someone who’d loved her through storms; it seemed to say, You have never looked more perfect, my heart.
And Lily—Lily looked almost stunned, her usual composure cracking, like she was seeing Emily for the first time all over again, fresh wonder dawning in her eyes.
Emily’s heart thudded hard in her chest, a wild drumbeat echoing the sea below. She could feel every pair of eyes on her—the guests’ murmurs fading to a hush, the alphas’ stares like physical caresses—but instead of shrinking under the weight, it anchored her, rooting her to this pivotal ground.
Ana’s father and Lily’s father began to walk with her slowly, one measured step at a time, their arms a steady bridge across her isolation. The hush in the room deepened to reverence, broken only by the distant crash of waves.
The priest, a kindly man with silver hair and a voice like aged whiskey, waited at the flower-draped altar with a calm, respectful expression, his robes flowing in the breeze from open arches.
"When love is chosen freely," he intoned, his words carrying softly through the hall like a benediction, "and honoured with truth, trust, and devotion, then the bond made before us becomes more than ceremony. It becomes a promise etched in the soul."
Emily’s fingers tightened briefly around the lace of her dress; the beads cool against her heated skin.
The priest continued, his eyes sweeping the group with quiet wisdom. "Today, we gather not for tradition alone, but for a union built on mutual love and shared vows. Though the world may not always understand it—may even seek to divide it—the heart has never asked permission to love. It simply does."
