Chapter 172: The Day I Became Officially His

Chapter 172: The Day I Became Officially His
(Gretel’s POV)

I woke up to warmth. Not just the kind from the blanket or the morning sun coming slowly through the sheer curtains, but the kind that came from being cocooned in his arms.

Devion’s breath was fanning on my shoulder, his fingers curled around my waist like he doesn't want to let go.

I didn’t want to move either. Not yet.

But then I felt his lips brush softly against the back of my neck, his voice a low, sleep-rough whisper, “It’s today.”

My heart did a little somersault.

“It is,” I murmured, barely able to believe it myself.

“Finally,” he said, pulling me tighter to him. “You’re going to be mine in front of everyone today, Gretel.”

His words made the butterflies in my stomach flutter like wild things. No matter how many times he told me I was already his, hearing it today hit different. It felt real. Final. Beautiful.

We laid there for a few more minutes, hearts quietly thudding, smiles creeping across our faces. I didn’t even realize how fast the time was ticking until Jazmine’s voice shouted from the side of the door.

“Up and out, lovebirds! Wedding prep starts now!”

Devion groaned dramatically. “She’s going to steal you from me.”

“Just for a few hours,” I grinned, turning to kiss his jaw. “You’ll get me back by nightfall.”

Reluctantly, he let me go, and I slipped out of bed, barefoot and giddy. I barely made it past the door when Jazmine grabbed my hand.

“Come on, bride-to-be. We’ve got a kingdom to impress!”

The house was already busty with activities. I could hear the chatter of early guests arriving outside. Cars and horses—yes, horses—lined the pathway in the pack estate.

Warriors from other packs, alphas, even elders. All here to witness the mating ceremony of the infamous Alpha Devion Luvern.

Probably the most eligible werewolf of a few years back. And somehow, he’d chosen me.

The scent of cake wafted from the kitchen. Apparently, it had been delivered earlier than expected—a towering, five-tiered beauty with intricate sugar roses and edible lace.

Jazmine must've smuggled a slice before breakfast. I saw the evidence on her lips.

As we passed the front window, I saw the garden transformed. Rows of white benches were perfectly aligned on either side of a long ivory carpet, now sprawled across the trimmed grass.

Wreaths of wildflowers and moon-shaped lanterns hung from arches overhead. It looked like something from a fairy tale.

And yet, I felt nervous. Not scared. Just... fluttery.

“I can’t eat,” I whispered to Jazmine as we stood by the breakfast table.

“Me neither,” she whispered back, nibbling on a cracker she clearly didn’t want. “Too much excitement. I feel like I might combust.”

Just then, the family doctor walked in with a kind smile on his face and a clipboard.

“Morning, Luna,” he said, already heading my way.

I blinked. Luna. That title would officially be mine by the end of today.

“Just checking on your health before the big moment,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

I gave him a sheepish smile. “I’ve been doing as you said. I swear. No sneaking chocolate at night.”

He chuckled, then gently placed his stethoscope over my chest. A few minutes later, after a thorough but swift examination, he gave a nod of approval.

“Healthy as you should be. You’ve kept your promise. These little ones are doing great.”

I blushed and cradled my belly out of instinct. The idea that I’d soon be married... and soon after, a mother... it all felt so big. So close.

After the doctor left, Jazmine clapped her hands. “Alright! Girl time!”

She whisked me away to her room upstairs where she’d personally decorated with pink and gold streamers, velvet cushions, a tea tray, and scattered candles that smelled like honey and lavender.

The rest of the girls were already inside. It felt relaxing, warm, and somehow full of love.

“This room is dedicated to be the official ‘get pretty’ room,” she said proudly. “Hair, makeup, glam squad—all here.”

I flopped onto one of the cushions, just as a familiar face peeked in.

My mother.

“And why am I not invited to this girly atmosphere?” she asked, half-pouting.

We laughed. “You are! Come in, sit,” I said quickly, patting the seat beside me.

She stepped in looking good even in the morning hours, her hair already curled, her dress a soft blue that matched her eyes.

Helena Gregory was already looking like the Luna of a strong pack that she already was, but today she just seemed to look even brighter, glowing even more.

“We're still waiting on the makeup artist,” Jazmine informed her.

“Good,” my mother replied. “Gives us time to talk.”

We did. And it was lovely.

For a while, we just lounged. Overtime, some of the girls dozed off, probably full from snacking on tarts and dried mango slices.

I stayed wide awake, munching nervously on a biscuit while looking out the window at the growing crowd below.

“Mom,” I asked softly. “When are you and Dad leaving?”

She looked at me thoughtfully. “Two days after the wedding.”

“Why so soon?” I asked her.

Her lips twitched before she replied. “Because your father said he doesn’t feel comfortable teasing me around here.”

I groaned. “Ugh! Old lovebirds.”

She laughed gently, brushing my hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back. Especially when you’re ready to give birth to those two lovelies you’re hiding in there.”

I turned red instantly, grabbing a pillow to hide my face. “Mom!”

But before she could tease me more, there was a soft knock on the door. I raised my head to find the makeup artist walking in, carrying a rolling case filled with brushes, palettes, and tiny bottles.

“It’s time,” Jazmine whispered, squeezing my hand.

Then I moved to sit on a seat facing a mirror. The artist started working on my face—priming, brushing, blending. I looked into the mirror and barely recognized the girl staring back.

She looked transformed. Glowing. A woman in love, about to bind herself to a man who had once seemed so far out of her reach.

By the time my hair was pinned into soft waves and curls, a delicate tiara glinting above my brow, and the ivory gown was slipped over my head, I felt it.

The calm.

The clarity.

The readiness.

Today, I would walk down that carpet with my heart ready and full. I would look into Devion’s eyes and know, without a doubt, that felt right.

That all the pain, all the confusion, all the longing—it had led me here.

To him.

To us.

And nothing had ever felt more beautiful to me.