Page 88 of Mated To The King's Gamma
I sink into the armchair and point in front of me. “Come here. You’re not going to war, you’re getting married.”
Liam groans but walks over, kneeling in front of me with a dramatic grunt. “Always knew you wanted me on my knees. Who would’ve thought you’d finally get your wish on my wedding day.”
I snort and shake my head. “Just shut up and let me do your buttons before you accidentally ruin your shirt.”
His hands are still trembling as I work my way up the shirt, careful not to look too long at his face because for the first time in the decades I’ve known him… Liam looks scared.
Not panicked.
Not annoyed.
Scared.
“You all good?” I ask, quieter now.
He swallows. “What if he doesn’t come?”
I look up at him, still holding the top button between my fingers. “He’s coming.”
“If my last wedding was anything to go by, it won’t happen,” Liam says, and I freeze at his words. Liam hardly mentions Claire, and we usually don’t mention her around him, knowing how it usually sets him off.
The words land like a punch.
None of us speaks. Not Kyson. Not Damian. Just stillness in the room.
“Dustin’s not going anywhere,” I say after a long moment. “You think he’d leave you at the altar?”
“I don’t know what I’d do if he did,” Liam says. “Abbie will just have to take one for the team and share. I would make a great sister wife,” he laughs, and I smirk.
“Still not gay,” I tell him. “Give up on converting me.”
“Don’t mock it until you try it,” he laughs.
Kyson clears his throat, and I glance at him. “How long?” I ask.
“Four minutes,” he answers, and Damian grabs his jacket off the back of the chair and pulls it on. Kyson does the same, then helps Tyson slip his on and ensures he has the rings in his pockets.
Standing, I grip Liam’s shoulder. “You ready?”
He grunts. “Definitely not. So let's get this over with.”
The ceremony is outside.
Simple, but clean. Manly.
Dark wood chairs, a rough-cut stone aisle lined with pine, and a low altar made from reclaimed logs and iron. No flowers, no frills—just Dustin’s elegant, formal style, but not over the top.
Tyson stands near the front, holding the ring box like it’s the crown jewels. He’s wearing a little black waistcoat, eyes wide and focused.
I stand to Liam’s left. Kyson and Damian flank him.
We look like we’re about to lead a war campaign, not witness a wedding.
“Dustin did a pretty good job organizing all this,” I say, scanning the setup. “Looks… good.”
We take our places at the end of the aisle, and I see Clarice with Hunter in the front row, along with Kyzel Landen Valkyrie, our next king.
Kyzel cries out, and Kyson flinches; we all do, knowing how powerful that baby is. When he was born, he came out screaming and invoked an earthquake. We thought the entire castle would come down around us. We thought Azalea was powerful after she managed to awaken the Azure and Landeena blood in her veins, yet Kyzel was born with power.
