Ariana's heart leapt in her chest as the grand hall fell into utter silence. No one dared to speak—no one even breathed too loudly, as if the very sound of their breath could be taken as a challenge.
"Very well then… We declare you two husband and wife, Luna and Alpha of the Kingdom of Elto—"
Before the officiant could finish, Zavren moved.
In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between them, his hand sliding around Ariana's waist with possessive certainty. A collective gasp rose from the crowd—part awe, part shock—just as his lips captured hers.
Ariana was not excluded—she hadn't expected that at all.
The moment his lips touched hers, her entire body sparked with energy. She shuddered, craving more before she even understood why. Fireworks exploded in her head as her body danced to the rhythm of sweet clouds. Then, just as suddenly, Zavren pulled away—slowly. His eyes met hers, dancing with an unreadable emotion—something intense, something deep—and before she could name it, it vanished.
Her mouth opened, then closed again. Her face flushed hot as applause erupted through the hall. Ariana stood frozen, overwhelmed, realizing they had done that with lots and lots of people watching—including the… priest… oh.
She couldn't believe it.
She was his mate.
But… how? She was only human.
Before she could fully register what was happening, a man appeared, carrying a silver-toned, luxurious foamed tray that shimmered softly under the lights. On it rested two rings.
Ariana's eyes widened. Rings.
The priest stepped forward, picking up one of them and handing it to Zavren.
"The vow will be completely sealed by the ring," he announced solemnly.
Zavren took Ariana's hand gently, placing it atop his. Slowly, he slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Her body trembled, but not from fear—this was something different. Her heart warmed, rising with an emotion she couldn't quite name. For some strange reason, she felt like crying.
She had never felt this way before.
The ring was silver—delicate, yet strong—embedded with tiny gold stones. At its center was a heart-shaped gem—silver, with golden wisps swirling inside. It was a perfect match… unique and breathtaking, like a quiet promise.
The priest then turned to her and handed her Zavren's ring. Ariana's heartbeat quickened. She was going to be the first—the only one—to ever place a ring on his finger.
His ring wasn't as ornate as hers. It was simple, round, but elegant in its mystery. Graceful, masculine. Her small hands, now trembling, wrapped around Zavren's much larger ones as she slowly slipped the ring onto his finger.
Her gaze rose to meet his.
Zavren stepped closer.
Her heart skipped a beat as he stood before her—towering, powerful, and yet so gentle in this moment. He lifted his hand to her neck, holding her still as he lowered his head.
Then—softly, reverently—he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
The hall fell into a stunned silence.
Even the priest stiffened at the gesture, clearly caught off guard.
And then his voice, low and clear, rang out:
"Fate has been sealed."
There was a pause—and just like that, applause erupted through the crowd.
Zavren slowly held her hands gently as they walked toward the center of the grand hallway. The space was vast, and the very middle had been cleared—for the king and queen's first dance.
The lights dimmed, and silence settled over the hall. A violin began to play softly, soon joined by the gentle notes of a piano. Zavren turned to Ariana, his eyes focused solely on her as he pulled her closer. Her breath hitched when his hands moved to her waist, holding her securely. They began to sway slowly in rhythm, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders.
Their eyes locked.
"All I see today is fear in your eyes, Snowflake," Zavren murmured, his voice a silky whisper against her ear. "But it won't take long before I replace that with love."
His words were so smooth, so unexpectedly tender, that it took Ariana a second to fully register what he'd said. Her brows shot up in surprise.
Zavren chuckled at her expression.
"Your things will be moved to my chambers tonight. From now on, you'll be sleeping with me."
'Sleeping with him?'
The thought echoed through her head in panic. Her pupils dilated—and Zavren caught it.
He leaned in again, his voice low and teasing.
"Once again, I meant the literal meaning. Unless, of course…You want us to have—"
Before he could finish, Ariana shook her head furiously, causing him to laugh though it did not reach his eyes he spun her in a graceful twirl. They moved in perfect sync.
"Why are you so scared?" he asked, his tone dipping into something more serious. "Is it because I wasn't as gentle as you expected that night?"
Ariana's face burned at his words.
The memory surged back like a flood breaking through a dam—his length, the way it had shocked her… how he had promised to be gentle, and yet… ended up doing quite the opposite.
Her face grew even hotter.
Why did he have to remind her of that now, of all times?
"You know," Zavren said with a smirk, "it's really not proper to be thinking such dirty things in public."
She glared at him, pressing her lips together in protest.
'Wasn't he the one… oh, this man.'
His smirk widened.
"You don't have to worry, sweetheart. It hurt because it was your first time. Once we do it constantly, you'll get used to it."
This man.
Ariana stared at him in shock as a sly grin moved to his lips while he spoke.
"But it's true. In fact, I'd even love it if we did it every day. It's actually helpful… makes delivery easier."
Her wide, expressive eyes flicked up at him—surprised, almost curious.
That look didn't escape him.
He could see it—the fear in her eyes was shifting into something else. Surprise, wonder, maybe even interest. One thing was certain: this wife of his was deeply protective of their child. Enough to consider doing that just to keep the baby safe.
His lips curled into a satisfied smile.
"Yes, sweetheart," he whispered, brushing his lips near her ear. "Wouldn't you want that?"
And to his amazement, Ariana nodded—softly, but surely.
"That's my little wife."
The moment the word wife left Zavren's lips, Ariana missed a step—her foot slipping slightly. But Zavren was quick. As if anticipating it, he caught her effortlessly, lifting her just slightly before turning her in his arms. Then, in one fluid, graceful motion, he dipped her low and brought her back up.
The violin swelled, rising and falling in sync with their movement, almost like it had been choreographed to match him.
A collective gasp echoed through the hall.
The crowd stared in awe. This new, unexpected dance step—elegant, daring—was unlike anything they'd seen before. It would surely become tradition now, a move created by the Alpha himself.
Little did Ariana know… she had just unintentionally created a historical dance.
The music continued, and so did they—lost in their own rhythm. As the violin faded, the piano took over. Zavren spun her gracefully, and she turned, facing him. Then, with grace and poise, she curtsied.
To everyone's shock—Zavren bowed.
A loud gasp rippled through the hall. Had the Alpha… bowed to her?
Ariana's eyes widened in disbelief just as the room erupted into applause. The lights slowly brightened again, illuminating the royal couple as they stood hand-in-hand.
Zavren stepped forward, guiding her beside him. Her hands were still wrapped around his arm, trembling slightly from the overwhelming attention.
"Forget them, Snowflake," he whispered gently, his voice like warm silk.
Ariana's lips parted, then closed again. She didn't know why, but his words calmed her. Just the sound of his voice was enough to still the shaking in her heart.
They climbed the grand stairs, where two majestic chairs awaited them—one for the Alpha, the other for his Luna.
Zavren paused, waiting for Ariana to sit first. Only after she had settled did he take his seat beside her, his expression shifting instantly—serious, focused.
His gaze swept slowly across the crowd, searching. And then… it stopped.
At the far end of the hall, a figure stood, holding a glass filled with a dark, blood-red liquid. His lips curled into a knowing smile, and his deep brown eyes gleamed with something unreadable. Those eyes locked with Zavren's.
Then, the stranger raised his glass slightly and murmured under his breath:
"Good to see you again… brother."