Chapter 101: Epilogue

Micah’s POV.

Colin eyes me critically, a perpetual frown etched on his face as he adjusts my tie for what feels like the hundredth time.

"I think you need to fix this," he says. I can't help but chuckle, raising an eyebrow at him in amusement.

Since when do wolves care about looking neat in a suit? After all, we were creatures of the wild and this was just for ceremony.

Ever since I asked him to be my best man and Beta, he's been a whirlwind of nervous energy. I watch as he straightens his own tie, his eyes scanning the room for any potential issues to pick on.

For starters, he decided that my wedding with Fiona would be his own personal responsibility and spent the entire week leading up to it, terrorizing all the staff into getting even the minute details right.

I know it’s just his way of being emotional.

That doesn’t mean it’s not annoying and hilarious at the same time.

"Colin, how many times are you going to fuss over this? I'm not going to trip over it while walking down the aisle. I literally have to stand and wait for my bride to come to me." I shake my head and watch as he turns red in the face.

“Of course, my king,” he says to me, looking seriously gloomy. However, just when I am about to walk outside, he speaks up again.

"Uh, but are you sure you don't want to reconsider the gray suit? I think it suited you better," he says with a deadpan expression, inspecting the color of my suit as if he's a fashion critic.

I chuckle, not even bothering to respond.

Outside, my mother’s huge garden is intimately decorated. Special care has been taken to ensure none of the flowers are disturbed and only a few tables for close family and friends are set up.

Having the wedding there was Fiona’s idea and once again, I am surprised at how well she knows about the things that would touch me. Being here feels like my mother is a part of it all.

I lift up my head and look at the sky.

“Are you watching mother? Would you say I have done well for myself?” I whisper and maybe, it’s just my imagination but the stars in the night sky seem to brighten upon my words.

I walk to the front of the garden, where I will wait for my bride, taking in all the people we have invited tonight. In a corner, Antonia and Kieran are huddled together, engaged in an intense debate.

I smirk looking at them, knowing they are going to be together soon. A part of me wants to warn Kieran about Fiona’s spitfire of a best friend.

The poor man is going to have his hands full.

But, I decide it best to stay out of it for my own mental peace.

My smirk slightly falters as my eyes collide with Wilson's. He sits alone, his face guarded. When he catches me looking, he gives me a short stiff nod and an expression of gratitude briefly passes his face.

It had taken a lot of convincing on my part to have Fiona invite him. He still has a long way to go for forgiveness but I know a part of Fiona needed him there. She isn’t one to hold grudges and the man looked like he would drown in regret every time he so much as looked at her.

I know she would never admit it but a part of her wanted him to be in her life. If for nothing else than to tell her about her mother.

My gaze glides over the others in attendance—relatives who genuinely wish me well, my loyal men who stood by me in the battle against the Warpaw Kingdom, and Fiona’s only other bridesmaid, Isabella. My heart twinges each time I catch sight of her because it reminds me of Havier's loss.

I had tried to make it up to her in the only way I could but she had refused all the Royal gifts I had offered, insisting that Havier simply fulfilled his duty. Eventually, I issued orders to construct an entire school in his honor, dedicated to educating young children and bearing his name. Remarkably, it was what had finally aligned with Isabella’s own wishes.

As a light orchestra starts to play, the audience notices me standing at the front. A wave of polite bows and heartwarming smiles follows, as they know my dislike for formality on such occasions. I don’t want them to feel like they are in the presence of their king. Instead, I just want them to enjoy the beautiful night.

Finally, to the tune of a beautiful melody, a little girl emerges. Clutching a basket of flowers, she charmingly scatters them along the path as she walks toward me.

She's a breathtaking sight, a miniature version of her mother, and my heart swells with pride as I take her in.

My stunning daughter. Amelia.

A radiant, toothy smile graces her face as she spots me, and she runs the remaining distance, jumping into my arms.

I chuckle and lift her up, planting several kisses on her rosy cheeks.

Just then, the woman of my dreams walks out.

Richards, looking remarkably healthier and finally free from the confines of the sanatorium, walks her down the aisle. Tears glisten in his eyes and it is clear that he is overjoyed to be here.

He's the only true father Fiona has ever known, and she was devastated when his health prevented him from attending our previous marriage. I can’t help but direct a warm smile at him.

Speaking of my wife... Fiona looks absolutely stunning.

Her dress is a masterpiece of simplicity and sophistication, far from anything elaborate. A flowing silhouette of pure white, it accentuates her graceful figure without overshadowing her natural beauty.

The fabric drapes elegantly, and a subtle shimmer adds a touch of ethereal charm. A delicate flower crown entwines with her dark hair, creating a soft halo.

She looks like my own personal angel.

As Fiona glides down the aisle, her eyes light up with pure joy upon spotting Amelia and me. I can almost feel her love reaching out to touch me. The runway feels endless and my impatience grows; I just want this journey to end so she can be in my arms.

Finally, she reaches the end of the aisle, and time seems to stand still as Fiona steps into my world.

Amelia giggles with pure delight, unable to contain her joy at seeing her mother looking so beautiful. I gently place our daughter down, and she positions herself between us, her innocent eyes shifting between our faces.

I extend my hands, reaching for Fiona's, and as she places hers in mine, we envelop Amelia between us. There's no need for signatures on paper, no rings to exchange, and no priest to officiate. For werewolves, mating is the ultimate bond, and we've already solidified our connection. We are already married.

All that remains are our vows. To each other.

I look deep into Fiona's eyes, my voice steady but filled with emotion.

"Fiona, from the moment our paths crossed, my world has been brighter. You've been my anchor, my solace, and my love. Today, in front of our pack, our friends, and our daughter, I promise to stand by you in joy and sorrow, in triumph and trial. I vow to cherish and protect you for as long as I draw breath, and beyond."

Fiona's eyes shimmer with unshed tears as she takes her turn.

"Micah, you are the warmth in my coldest nights, the strength in my weakest moments. With you, I have found a home, a love that knows no bounds. I promise to stand by you, to uplift and support you, to share in your joys and shoulder your burdens. Together, we will face the challenges that come our way, for as long as we both shall live."

The raw emotion in our words hangs in the air, and tears glisten in both our eyes. Suddenly, our audience breaks the silence with their unexpected chorus of encouragement.

"Kiss the bride! Kiss the bride!" They chant.

I laugh as I pull her towards me, lovingly sandwiching our daughter between us until she giggles uncontrollably. I kiss her, long and hard and maybe inappropriate for present company but I don't care.

She is mine and I want the world to know.

Just when I am about to pull away, she turns into me and presses her lips to my ears.

“I have something to tell you," she says and discreetly brings my hand to her belly in a way that nobody can see. Then, in the softest whisper, she says into my ear: “I just found out today. You are about to be a daddy again.”

Joy surges within me and once again, I feel like she has made me the luckiest man alive.

I pick her up and spin her around and then bend down to lift my daughter in my arms.

As I hold both my girls close and relish in their warmth, I realize, these are my jewels.

My queens.

My world.

My entire life.

Maybe, the goddess had given me so much pain just so that she could give me all this joy.

And, I would be fucking damned if I let them go.

Because they are mine.

The End.