Chapter Fifteen – Mine, Yours, Ours
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Elara’s POV
The airport was a chaos of rolling suitcases, delayed flight announcements, and one very determined toddler insisting that the moving walkway was his personal racetrack. By the time Cassia and I wrangled Aeron into the car that waited for us outside, I was already sweating under my winter coat.
“Operation Wedding Glow Up 2025,” Cassia declared, tossing her hair as though we weren’t running late. “Nothing can stop us now.”
“Snack!” Aeron yelled from his car seat, clutching Mister Dwagon like a knight
with his sword.
Cassia twisted around, pulling a cookie from her bottomless tote. “Don’t worry, nephew, Aunt Cass delivers.”
I sighed. “You’re encouraging him.”
“I’m building morale,” she said brightly.
The car purred onto the snow-packed road toward the Ashthorne great hall. My pulse had been drumming since we landed, but I forced myself to breathe. This was supposed to be a simple wedding visit. Nothing more.
Of course, the Goddess had other plans.
Because halfway there, Aeron decided to declare war.
“My tummy!” he moaned suddenly, clutching his middle. His little face
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scrunched, dramatic as only a two-and-a-half-year-old could be. “Tummy go boom-boom.”
The driver flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror. Cassia’s jaw dropped. “Oh no. Oh, absolutely not. Not in this car-”
I was already unbuckling him. “Stop here. Now.”
We pulled over on the snowy roadside, and within minutes, the crisis resolved with wipes, a spare set of pants, and Aeron announcing to the frosty air, “I big boy now! No boom-boom!”
Cassia pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m burning this outfit.”
The delay sealed it: Alpha Darius, Luna Lyanna, and Caius had gone ahead in the second car, their headlights already vanished into the white blur of snowfall. Which meant we’d arrive late.
Perfect.
We didn’t just arrive at the Ashthorne great hall.
We stormed it.
The great carved doors swung wide, slamming against the stone so hard the chandeliers rattled. Warm candlelight spilled out, gilding the aisle and catching on polished wood and silken gowns. For one suspended heartbeat, it felt like the entire hall had been holding its breath for our entrance.
Cassia led the way, red dress snapping at her heels, her hair a shimmering golden wave that screamed deliberate trouble. Trouble in stilettoes. Trouble with
a smirk.
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I followed, breathless, wind-tossed hair refusing to be tamed, my dark dress clinging against the winter chill. Aeron was perched on my hip like a biscuit-crumbed prince – one sock missing, one pant leg suspiciously damp, Mister Dwagon raised in triumph like he’d conquered Rome.
The hall went dead silent.
Aeron broke it with all the confidence in the world.
“TA-DA!”
Somewhere in the second row, someone choked on champagne.
Cassia grinned like we’d rehearsed it. “Sorry we’re late,” she announced breezily, her voice carrying clear to the altar. “Had to fight a snowstorm, a parking crisis, and a toddler dictatorship.”
“I win!” Aeron shouted, puffing his chest out. Then he blew a kiss to a table of startled Omegas. “Hi peoples!”
Ripples of amusement moved through the gathered crowd. Every step we took down the aisle echoed – ours alone, in the hush of whispers barely contained.
Curious eyes.
Judging eyes.
Hungry-for-gossip eyes.
The air smelled of roses, pine, and politics.
At the altar, the bride Sera Ashthorne-gleamed like frost spun into lace, her hands perfectly folded around her bouquet. The groom beside her – tall, broad, dark ceremonial coat brushing polished boots-wore gold eyes that swept the
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Chapter Fifteen – Mine, Yours, Ours
crowd with effortless authority. The calm ownership of a man who had never once questioned his place at the top.
Until those eyes found me.
Everything in the room went still. No music. No whispers. Just the punch of recognition.
Paris. Low light. Whiskey. His mouth on mine. The way I’d let myself believe in
one reckless night.
The Alpha King.
My wolf surged. My pulse tripped.
“Mommy,” Aeron stage-whispered, tugging at my collar, “dat man’s shiny.”
The Alpha King’s nostrils flared. His jaw locked. And then, in a voice that rumbled through the rafters like thunder-
“Mine.”
The quartet screeched to a halt. The priest’s mouth snapped shut. A low buzz swept the room, scandal blooming in real time.
Aeron blinked, startled — then grinned. He pointed a crumb-dusted finger.
–
“Mine too! Mommy mine. Dwagon mine. You… mine?” His little head tilted. “You Daddy?”
The gasp that followed could have torn the roof straight off.
Something cracked in the Alpha King’s face. His mask of steel softened, lit, burned. He stepped down from the altar.
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Sera clutched his arm, her voice a hiss sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t you dare.”
“Cokie?” Aeron tried again, because priorities were priorities.
Cassia – goddess, menace, chaos-bringer-produced one without missing a beat, passing it to him like a relay baton.
The Alpha King kept walking, each step a verdict. He stopped close enough that the heat of him rolled across my skin. His voice dropped, low and lethal, but meant for us alone.
“My pup.”
The world tilted sideways.
Aeron squinted at him, then solemnly nodded. “I pup. You big.”
Cassia leaned in, stage-whispering, “Very big.”
“Cass,” I hissed.
“What? He is.”
Behind us, Sera swayed, her grip slipping, her voice high and furious. “This is
a sacred-”
“We won’t be continuing,” the Alpha King said, never taking his eyes off me.
The hall erupted.
Sera’s voice rose sharp as broken glass. “You are humiliating me in front of every Alpha in the Northern Territories—”
“No,” he cut her off, velvet and steel. “You’ve been spared a far greater
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humiliation. Now step aside.”
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Gasps scattered like thrown beads. The priest shut his book with a snap.
Her glare sliced toward me. “You. Always you. Crawling back for scraps—”
“Dwagon says no,” Aeron declared suddenly, brandishing his plush like a tiny executioner. “No yelly lady.”
Cassia choked on a laugh loud enough to earn daggers from half the hall.
–
And then he was there close, close enough that the memory of his touch felt like flame. He reached for Aeron without hesitation, and my son my fearless, biscuit-dusted, traitorous son — went willingly, curling tiny fingers into his coat as though he’d always belonged there.
“You can’t just “I started, fury and heat tangling in my chest.
“Yes,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “I can. And I will.”
Julian appeared at Cassia’s side, perfectly timed, smirk sharpened to a blade. “Your Majesty, shall I clear a side room?”
The Alpha King didn’t even glance at him. “Do it.”
Cassia nudged my shoulder, her grin unrepentant.
“Well,” she murmured, “that was subtle.”
米米米
Elara’s POV
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The hall was still a riot of whispers and gasps when Julian moved like a shadow, cutting a clean path through startled nobles and pack leaders. His smirk was a razor, sharp with satisfaction. “This way, Your Majesty.”
Your Majesty. Gods, it made my stomach twist.
I stumbled after him, because what else was I supposed to do when the Alpha King himself had my son balanced on one arm like a prize won at the faire and half the Northern Territories were gaping?
Cassia trailed at my side, her red dress snapping behind her like a battle flag, grinning as if this was the single greatest scandal she’d ever been invited to. Which, knowing her, it probably was.
Behind us, the bride’s voice cracked against the stone walls, shrill with betrayal, but her words blurred into meaningless noise. My entire focus narrowed to Aeron, perched smugly in the Alpha King’s arms, his small cheek pressed against that broad chest like he’d belonged there forever.
“Traitor,” I hissed under my breath.
Aeron turned his head just enough to beam at me. “Mommy, Daddy big. Smells nice.”
Cassia snorted so hard she almost tripped. “He does, though.”
“Cassia!”
“What? I’m agreeing with the pup.”
We reached a side chamber
–
all heavy oak, flickering candles, and the hush of thick walls built for secrets. Julian shut the door with a decisive click.
And then it was just us.
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The Alpha King set Aeron down gently, like he was a crown jewel. My son immediately darted to the drapes, tugging them with suspicious glee before hopping onto a chair and brandishing Mister Dwagon like a sword.
The King didn’t take his eyes off me.
It was like standing under a storm. His presence pressed in, heavy, his wolf so close to the surface that mine bristled uneasily. Gold eyes burned, molten and sharp, pinning me in place.
I folded my arms, even though my hands shook. “You ruined a wedding.”
His mouth curved-not with amusement, but something far sharper. “It was never going to be a wedding.”
“Oh, forgive me,” I snapped. “The white dress, the priest, the whole continent watching-that was just window dressing?”
Cassia swung herself onto the table, crossing her legs like she belonged there. “For the record, I vote best wedding ever. Ten out of ten drama. Would attend again.”
“Cassia,” I ground out.
“What? I’m adding commentary. Think of me as a helpful narrator.”
The Alpha King ignored her completely, taking one step closer, his voice dropping low. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The words lashed through me, rougher than any shout, carrying hurt beneath the steel. His gaze flicked to Aeron, then back, fiercer. “Three years. My blood. My pup. And you ran.”
My chest tightened until I couldn’t breathe. “You don’t get to accuse me. You don’t even-”
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“Daddy, up!” Aeron squeaked, barreling back toward him.
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I froze. He didn’t. He scooped Aeron into his arms with practiced certainty, like the boy had always been his. Aeron curled in immediately, small fists clutching at his coat.
“Daddy warm,” he sighed, eyes already drooping.
Cassia pressed a hand over her grin. “Well, there’s your answer.”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to snatch my son away. I wanted-gods help
me-I wanted to let him stay.
The Alpha King’s gaze cut through me. “We talk. Now.”
Thorne’s POV
She had vanished.
That morning in Paris, sunlight spilling over tangled sheets, my wolf content for the first time in years-I’d reached for her. And found nothing.
No note. No number. No trace.
Just rumpled sheets, a lingering scent of ink and citrus, and silence.
I searched. Goddess damn me, I searched.
Every Elara in Paris. Every Elara in flight records. Too many Elara’s in the gods-damned world, and none of them her. My council thought I was obsessed, my enemies thought I was distracted, but I couldn’t stop.
And now she stood here. Three years later. With my son.
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f
“You left me nothing,” I said, the words breaking harsher than I intended. “Not a last name, not a way to find you. Do you have any idea what it’s like-knowing fate struck and waking up alone?”
Her eyes flashed, wet but blazing. “Do you have any idea what I woke up to? One night with a stranger who didn’t even tell me he was a wolf, let alone the Alpha King!”
I stilled. Her wolf rippled under her skin, raw, unsettled. She hadn’t known. She truly hadn’t known.
“Elara…” I said, voice rougher now. “If I had told you that night, would you have stayed?”
She hesitated. Just a heartbeat. But it was enough.
Her silence cut deeper than steel.
Elara’s POV
I hated him for asking that. I hated myself for not being able to answer.
Aeron lifted his head, blinking sleepily between us. “Mommy mad?”
Cassia chirped immediately, “Yes, Mommy’s mad. Daddy in trouble.”
“Big trouble?” Aeron asked solemnly.
“The biggest,” Cassia said.
“Uh-oh,” Aeron muttered, snuggling deeper into his father’s chest. “I hide Daddy.”
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The Alpha King’s mouth twitched, but his eyes never left mine. “We’re not
hiding. Not anymore.”
And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if he meant himself-or me.
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