Chapter 651 And Then He Picked Her Up
Lucian’s fists clenched like they were trying to strangle the air. His gold eyes flicked between River, Vesper, the guards, and Tristan as the situation took a nosedive his training had never prepared him for—mostly because no one writes “your mate will body-block a wedding crasher in a white dress while teary-eyed” in any training.
Why.
The guards kept moving towards Vesper.
But the princess stepped in front of Vesper. To get to Vesper, they would have to touch River, and touching the Crown Princess of Aelindris without authorization was a career decision that required more than a moment’s consideration.
Pink magic snapped around River and Vesper both, instinct overriding thought.
The crowd gasped. Color drained from Tristan’s face.
Lucian’s gold eyes widened. He didn’t feel any hostility through their matebond, just determination.
Her magic had always been considered average. Adequate. The polite description for power that existed but never announced itself, the Fae equivalent of a perfectly fine singing voice that nobody asked to perform solos. What was radiating from her hands right now was several weight classes above adequate and climbing.
Using magic to help a criminal resist arrest was an implied threat that if a guard touched either woman, the magic would retaliate.
The guards paused. Protocol dictated they use their magic against River to neutralize the threat and take both subjects into custody. None of them wanted to be the man who blasted the princess at her own wedding in front of the Crown Prince and King. That particular honor appeared on zero career aspiration lists.
River glanced down at her own glowing hands. Blinked a few times. The blink of a woman who had just accidentally pulled a grenade pin and was now holding the grenade and trying to remember if there was a way to put the pin back.
Her surprise bled through her magic. The guards felt it immediately. The intent wasn’t hostile. Her magic had responded to her emotions the way a dog responds to thunder: loudly, involuntarily, and with zero tactical consideration.
None of them moved. One of their lips twitched, almost in fondness.
But to River, they had stopped because of her magic. So, to the absolute shock of every living person and one ghost in the courtyard, she held it.
Through the matebond, Lucian felt the exact moment her surprise converted to determination. A gear clicking into place. A woman who had accidentally discovered she was holding a weapon deciding to keep holding it because the alternative was letting the weapon go and the weapon was the only thing standing between Vesper and a dungeon that River apparently didn’t want Vesper in.
Tristan dragged a hand down his face.
Fin recognized the gesture. It was the universal expression of a man who loved a woman who was doing something simultaneously adorable and catastrophic and had chosen the worst possible moment for both. Under ANY other circumstances, this would have been entertaining. River’s surprise at her own magic followed by her decision to keep it up had the energy of a kitten that accidentally knocked a vase off a table and then sat on the broken pieces with eye contact.
If he hadn’t just ordered an arrest in front of hundreds of witnesses. If this wasn’t his WEDDING ceremony. If the person he’d ordered arrested wasn’t causing his mate emotional distress. He’d have grinned.
Vesper stared at River’s back.
The woman who had crashed a bonding ceremony to scream about fate and destiny was standing three feet behind the bride she had just tried to replace, surrounded by pink magic she hadn’t asked for, protected by a woman who had every reason in the world to let the guards drag her away.
“I am perfectly capable of handling myself.” Vesper’s chin tilted upward. “And I certainly have no need for protection from his whore.”
The word landed on the courtyard like a brick through a window.
Gasps erupted from every row. A noble woman in the second row made a sound that was half shock and half physical recoil. Three members of Atlas’s personal guard visibly flinched.
Lucian moved.
The transition from holding to moving was so fast Fin almost missed it. One second the wolf king was rooted at the altar, discipline holding every instinct behind a wall. The next second the wall was gone and the wolf king was stepping forward with a fluidity that had nothing to do with ceremony and everything to do with the predator that lived behind his ribs.
His gold eyes locked onto Vesper with a focus so absolute that three nobles in the front row leaned away from his trajectory.
“You will address the princess by her title.” Lucian’s voice was a growl wearing a suit. “Or you will address me. And I promise you, lady, one of those conversations will be significantly shorter than the other.”
The courtyard heard an Alpha defending a princess’s honor. A wolf king, noble and chivalrous, protecting the dignity of the bride at a ceremony where he served as best man.
Tristan’s voice cut through at the same register.
“If you open your mouth again, the guards will be the least of your concerns. I will personally ensure you never speak in this court or any other.” His jaw set. “That is a promise. Test it.”
Vesper’s mouth closed. Involuntary. The reflexive response of a woman whose survival instincts had finally overridden her performance instincts, because whatever confidence she had carried into this courtyard had just collided with a prince and a wolf king who were both looking at her with the specific expression of men calculating the fastest distance between a problem and its removal.
River stood between the guards and Vesper with her arms at her sides, tears on her face, pink magic still glowing faintly around both of them.
The guards looked at Tristan. Tristan looked at River. The look lasted two seconds.
“Hold,” he ordered the guards.
He closed the distance. Then, with zero hesitation, he picked River up.