Page 64 of Asking Fur Trouble

Bess laughed, feeling another wave of impatience through the bond. “He absolutely would.”

Bess soon stepped onto the petal-strewn aisle, her breath catching as the assembled crowd rose to their feet. The royal gardens blazed with color—flowers from both Earth and Nova Aurora arranged in breathtaking harmony, just like the union they had come to witness. Through her delicate veil, Bess saw hundreds of faces turn toward her, but she only had eyes for one.

Charov stood at the altar, tall and absolutely handsome in his royal regalia. His deep blue eyes locked onto hers with that familiar intensity that sent ripples of heat through their mate bond. His jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring slightly—the bear within him recognizing its mate. The raw possession in his gaze caused her knees to weaken.

Breathe. Just breathe.Bess commanded herself as she took the first step forward. The mate mark on her hip tingled as Charov’s emotions flooded through their connection—pride, desire, and something deeper that made her heart race.

She had expected nerves, but with each step toward her future, she felt only certainty. Six weeks ago, she was unfulfilled and unseen. Today, she was claiming a kingdom—and a king.

When she reached him, Charov extended his hand, his large fingers engulfing hers. “Mine,” he growled, low enough that only she could hear.

“Not yet,” she whispered back, a teasing glint in her eye. “There’s paperwork to file first.”

His lips quirked in that smile that transformed his regal features into the playful man she had fallen for. “Always the proper clerk,” he murmured.

FORTY-FIVE

The royal officiant began the ceremony, but Bess barely registered the words. She was lost in the way Charov looked at her—like she was the only star in his sky.

When the time came for vows, Charov’s deep voice resonated through the gardens. “Before my people and my ancestors, I claim you, Bess Campos, as my queen, my mate, and my heart.” His fingers tightened around hers. “I vow to protect you, to honor you, to challenge you, and to adventure with you until my last breath.”

A single tear escaped despite her best efforts. Charov wiped it away with his thumb, the tender gesture belying the powerful intensity in his blue eyes.

“I choose you, Charov Mavac,” Bess said, her voice steadier than she had expected. “Not because fate decided, but because my heart knows you. I vow to support you, to stand beside you, to remind you to have fun when duty weighs heavy, and to love you—the king, the man, and the bear—for all of my days.”

When they exchanged rings—his a heavy band of Nova Auroran metal that gleamed like captured starlight, hers his grandmother’s ring—his hands trembled slightly. The mighty bear shifter was nervous. The realization made her heart swell.

“By the power vested in me,” the officiant proclaimed, “I now pronounce you husband and wife, King and Queen of Mavac Territory.”

Before the words had fully left the officiant’s mouth, Charov pulled Bess against his chest, one hand cupping her face with surprising gentleness while the other pressed possessively across her lower back.

“My queen,” he whispered against her lips.

“My bear,” she answered just before his mouth claimed hers.

The kiss was both a promise and a claiming. His lips moved against hers with authority, but when she responded with equal fervor, he growled his approval into her mouth. Through their bond, Bess felt his joy and desire twining with her own—a perfect harmony of emotions that left her breathless.

When they finally separated, his eyes had darkened to midnight, and Bess knew hers reflected the same hunger. The crowd erupted in cheers.

Before long, the grand doors of the royal ballroom swung open, and Bess felt Charov’s hand press possessively against her back as they entered. Though she had expected the grandeur, nothing had prepared her for the overwhelming spectacle that greeted them—crystal chandeliers dripping from ceilings that soared at impossible heights, tables laden with delicacies from both Earth and Nova Aurora, and hundreds of guests who rose to their feet as they entered.

“My queen,” his voice rumbled against her ear, “this is all for you.”

She swallowed hard, taking in the sea of faces staring at them with reverence. “Half of these people probably wanted you to marry a bear shifter princess six weeks ago.”

His laugh was low and heated against her neck. “But my bear wanted you. Only you.” His fingers traced possessive patterns against her back, each touch sending sparks through their bond.

“Your Majesties.” Queen Zyre approached, her black mourning dress exchanged for a deep purple gown that highlighted the strength in her shoulders. Though grief still outlined her eyes, there was a genuine smile on her face as she embraced Bess. “My son chose wisely.”

“He had some help,” Gerri piped up, appearing as if from nowhere. “Though I’ll say this match was one of my easier ones. These two practically screamed ‘compatible’ from the start.”

“We did not,” Bess protested, remembering their awkward first dinner.

“Oh please,” Gerri waved dismissively, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief. “I saw the way you looked at him when you thought no one was watching. And he was worse.”

Charov’s fingers tightened possessively on Bess’s waist. “I knew from the first moment.”

“Lies,” Bess countered, enjoying the heat that flared in his eyes at her challenge. “You thought I was a boring paper-pusher.”

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