Page 87 of The Princess and the Pack

What a picture we must make—Namara’s royal sons. The sovereign family brought together in the face of great change. I hope wherever my mother is, she’s proud of all we’ve accomplished, and all that’s still ahead.

Ivy’s love and adoration is warm as she pushes it down the bond, distracting me before her sweet scent hits my nose. “What a portrait of beauty the three of you make. I’m convinced you must be demigods meant to tempt the masses into debauchery.”

Cal cackles, breaking our embrace, and Ciaran’s cheeks turn pink.

“You know, your Majesty,” Callan says, preparing to be stupid, I’m sure. “I’m younger and better than my brother in all ways. Should you ever tire of?—”

Ciaran cracks him on the back of the head. “Even princes can be treasonous, you eejit.”

Ivy chuckles, stepping forward and lacing her delicate hand in mine. She is so beautiful today—as she always is—but with her three bond marks visible for all to see, she looks the very picture of divinity.

“My queen,” I say, leaning down to steal a long, slow kiss.

Ivy hums, her pleasure vibrating against my mouth and through the bond. I thought maybe after I claimed her, I would be less eager, less inclined to take her anywhere she would have me. But if anything, my hunger is renewed every time I lay eyes upon her.

Were it not for the responsibilities of our birth, I think I could live out all my years in Ivy’s nest—between her legs—surfacing only for sunlight and sustenance.

“Well, unless you’re ready to give Cal a show, I suggest we don’t further delay the celebration,” Ciaran says, flustered over the open display of intimacy.

When I pull back, I place a delicate kiss upon my mate’s nose and revel in her rosy blush. Every day I will think of her like this. My mate, my queen—love of my life. She’s the most precious thing in the world to me, and now all of Namara will get to fall in love with her as well.

“Ready, darling?”

She nods. “With you, I’m ready for anything.”

Thank fucking Fate for the gift of my omega.

* * *

The grand hallis filled with courtiers from Namara and dignitaries from across the western kingdoms. Most of my wife’s family are in attendance, ready to celebrate their sister and stand beside us as we do something new and shocking.

Upon the dais sit four thrones—not two—and already the murmurings of our foreign attendees have started.

Today is historic for more than one reason. For the first time in Namarian history, a king and queen will reign with equal power. Any children Ivy bears in the future—regardless of who sires them—will be heir to our throne.

She is sovereign now, a queen in all regards.

And even more unusual, our packmates will be crowned as her prince consorts. Sloan and Oran don’t care about this title—neither having ambitions to rule—but the symbolism is important.

I know it means a great deal to them to be tied to Ivy—to be at her side. Just as it’s important for Ivy that all her alphas should be treated with the honor and respect they deserve.

We’re creating a new Namara. And those who don’t like it, well, I’ve yet to hear of any complaints. Dissent may arise—but with allies like Fiona and Tiernan and the Bancroft royal family—there’s little that can be done to stop what we’ve set in motion.

As I walk down the aisle with my queen on my arm, and our packmates at our backs, I greet our court proudly and without reservation.

And when my crown is set upon my head, the burden does not feel so heavy—not when I have those I love to help me bear it.

Once upon a time, I thought pining for a pack would never amount to anything beyond fantasies. Today, my reality far surpasses even the wildest dreams I buried deep in my heart. My alphas have poured their love into me, unfettered.

They’ve made me a home where I can be held and safe for all my life—a long life at that. Their steadfast commitment to building our pack has made it possible for us to grow old together.

I started the day with much uncertainty over how my alphas and I would be perceived by the court. But I was pleasantly surprised to have been greeted with warmth by many. Whether it’s fear of speaking out or relief for the change we’ve brought, I’m not sure. It’s a question we’ll answer together—some other day.

Having a steadfast ally in the sovereign King of Lucernia likely helps others to embrace our unconventional situation, I’m sure. Hawthorn’s joyful acceptance of our pack, and his presence at our coronation, will do more for public perception than most anything else.

Many of our guests have even gone so far as to openly propositioned Thorn—much to Sage’s amusement. It seems pack living is not so unappealing with an unmarried, unbonded king on the market.

Thorn, on the other hand, has never been so pink in the cheeks. As handsome and eligible an alpha as he is, my brother is modest and repressed beyond compare. He’s no stranger to flattery but he’s not the flirt some of my siblings are.

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