chapter 199 Will You Marry Me?

chapter 199 Will You Marry Me?
Lyra's POV

Three days later, I returned to Silvermoon Territory carrying what I hoped would be the final version of the remedy. My belly was so large now that even sitting in the car for five hours had become uncomfortable. At eight and a half months pregnant, every movement required careful planning.

But when I arrived at the medical center, Clara was waiting for me in the lobby with an apologetic expression.

"Lyra, dear, I'm sorry, but Dorian needs his rest right now," she said gently, effectively blocking my path to his room. "The doctors are running some additional tests, and they've asked that we limit visitors today."

I stared at her in disbelief. "Clara, I've been working for months to develop this remedy. I need to—"

"I know, sweetheart, and your dedication has been remarkable. But today isn't the right time." Her tone was final, though not unkind. "Why don't you go home and rest? Today is your birthday, after all."

My birthday. In all the chaos of research and worry, I'd completely forgotten.

Defeated and confused by Clara's unusual behavior, I drove back to the Blackthorne estate. The house felt empty and quiet, which only made my frustration worse. I'd been so certain this latest version would work, so desperate to try it on Dorian.

As evening approached, Marcus appeared at my door with a gentle smile.

"Lyra, there's something special planned for tonight. Clara asked me to escort you to the marina."

"The marina? Marcus, I'm not in the mood for—"

"Trust me," he said. "This is important."

Too tired to argue, I allowed him to help me into the car. The drive to Moon Shadow Bay's marina took twenty minutes, and I spent most of it wondering what Clara could possibly have arranged.

When we arrived, my breath caught in my throat. A magnificent yacht was docked at the pier, its white hull gleaming under the harbor lights. Strings of fairy lights decorated the deck, and I could hear the sound of music and laughter drifting across the water.

"What is this?" I asked Marcus as he helped me out of the car.

"A birthday party," he said with a mysterious smile. "Dorian planned this months ago, before... everything happened. Clara thought you deserved to celebrate."

He had planned this for me, I realized with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. Even when he was unconscious, he was still taking care of me.

As we boarded the yacht, I was amazed by the elaborate decorations. The deck was filled with pack members from various territories, all dressed in their finest clothes. Tables laden with food lined one side of the boat, while a small band played soft music in the corner.

Elena came running toward me the moment I stepped aboard, wearing a beautiful silver dress that sparkled in the lights.

"Mama! Happy birthday!" she launched herself into my arms, though my large belly made hugging difficult. "Do you like the party? I helped plan it!"

"It's beautiful, sweetheart," I said.

The party atmosphere was infectious. Pack members approached me throughout the evening with birthday wishes and gifts. The yacht slowly moved away from the harbor, providing a stunning view of the coastline as the sun set behind the mountains.

But it was Elena who provided the evening's most entertaining moments. I watched in amusement as she spotted a young man across the deck, he was a seventeen-year-old from the Northern Ridge Pack with golden hair and bright blue eyes. He was clearly the son of their Alpha, based on the respectful way other pack members treated him.

Elena marched straight up to him with all the confidence of a four-year-old who had never been told 'no.'

"Hi," she announced. "I'm Elena Blackthorne, and you're very pretty."

The young man looked startled, glancing around as if hoping an adult would rescue him from this situation.

"Um, thank you?" he said uncertainly.

"Are you a prince?" Elena asked, tilting her head to study his face. "Because you look like a prince from my storybooks."

Several nearby adults began chuckling quietly, but Elena was completely serious.

"I'm not a prince," the young man said, crouching down to her level with admirable patience. "I'm just Leon."

"Well, Prince Leon," Elena said with absolute certainty, "when I grow up, you should marry me. I'm going to be very important, and I'll make you happy every day."

Poor Leon looked panic-stricken. "But you're... you're four years old."

"I won't be four forever," Elena replied with flawless logic. "Daddy says good things are worth waiting for. So you should wait for me."

The laughter from the surrounding adults was no longer quiet. Even Leon's father, Alpha Benjamin, was grinning broadly at his son's predicament.

"Elena," I called gently, "perhaps we should let Leon enjoy the party."

But Elena wasn't finished. She reached up and tugged on Leon's sleeve until he leaned down, then planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

"There," she annoproudly. "Now you're mine. Mama always says a kiss means you belong to someone. And when I get my wolf, you'll know I'm your fate mate!"

Leon turned bright red while the adults around us dissolved into laughter. Alpha Benjamin clapped his son on the shoulder.

"Well, Leon, looks like your future is decided."

She has your determination, my wolf observed with satisfaction. And Dorian's confidence.

As the evening wore on and the yacht moved further from shore, I found myself actually enjoying the celebration. The pack members' warmth and joy were genuinely uplifting, and watching Elena's innocent charm provided moments of pure happiness.

But as the night reached its climax, the real surprise began.

A series of fireworks suddenly exploded overhead, painting the dark sky with brilliant colors. The guests all moved to the deck railings to watch the display, their faces lit up with wonder and excitement.

The fireworks grew larger and more elaborate with each burst. Blues and silvers, golds and reds, creating intricate patterns against the stars. The finale built toward something spectacular. The largest, brightest firework yet climbing higher and higher into the night sky.

Just as it reached its peak, ready to explode in what I knew would be the most magnificent display of the evening, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Lyra."

I spun around, and my heart nearly stopped.

Dorian stood on the deck behind me, looking healthy and strong and completely awake. He was dressed in an elegant dark suit, his silver hair catching the light from the fireworks above.

For a moment, I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't process that he was really there, really standing, really looking at me with such love and purpose.

"Happy birthday," he said softly, then dropped to one knee on the deck.

The massive firework exploded overhead at that exact moment, bathing the entire yacht in golden light as Dorian pulled out a ring box.

"Lyra Nightfall," he said, his voice carrying clearly despite the noise around us. "Will you marry me? Will you be my mate, my Luna, my partner in everything for the rest of our lives?"