Chapter CXLII: Wife

Isabella sat at her vanity, gazing at her reflection as the celebrations echoed beyond the palace walls. Her wedding, the grand union that had changed the course of kingdoms, took over the capital. Celebrations would last at least another week. She took in her surroundings; this room, once her prison, had become a shared sanctuary. Alaric had torn down the wall that once separated the rooms, merging his chambers with hers. Everything was both familiar and reborn—memories layered over memories, all made new by his care and attention to every detail, a promise that her future would be different the past.

Lost in thought, she didn’t hear the door open until she saw Alaric’s reflection behind her, moving with quiet confidence. He came close, placing a warm hand on her neck, his touch grounding her.

“You know,” Isabella murmured, “after pushing out four babies, I shouldn’t be so nervous about my wedding night.”

Alaric chuckled softly, tracing his fingers along her jawline. “Why are you nervous?” he asked.

Isabella hesitated, glancing at her reflection as if searching for an answer. “Because this—” She paused, trying to find the words. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted. It feels… like a dream. I keep thinking someone might wake me up and take it all away.” Her voice was soft, a mixture of awe and quiet fear. “I’ve won. I’ve won everything.”

Alaric’s hand moved to her cheek, his touch tender. “My lady wife…” he said, letting the words linger, and Isabella couldn’t help but smile as he spoke.

He lowered his voice. “Years ago, when I returned from that dreadful battle, broken and grieving my dragon, I saw you. You were there, bathing in the stream, glowing under the morning sun. For a moment, you looked like a vision—a dream I didn’t deserve to have. And yes… I feared I’d wake up, that it was too perfect to be real.”

Gently, he ran the back of his hand along her arm, as if to relive that moment. “So I touched you,” he whispered, remembering. “You melted into me, so sweetly, so delicate… And I wondered then if it was real, if it was all a dream. Maybe it was. Maybe it still is. But I know I would kill anyone who tries to wake me up.”

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both fierce and gentle, a promise carved into the moment. She melted against him, surrendering, as if they were again at that stream, as if she were that innocent girl who first felt her heart tremble under his touch. They parted only when they needed air, their foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling as they held onto that fragile feeling.

They kissed again, this time with a fervor that held nothing back. Alaric’s hands slipped around her waist, pulling her against him, feeling the heat between them rise. His fingers found the sleeves of her gown, slowly guiding them down her shoulders until the soft fabric slipped, pooling at her feet.

With ease, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bed they now shared, and gently placed her on the mattress. For a moment, he stood over her, his gaze tracing her features, almost reverent. Isabella propped herself up on her elbows, tilting her head as she looked up at him. “Is something wrong?” she whispered.

Alaric’s voice was low, filled with quiet awe. “Nothing at all,” he murmured, his eyes softening. “You’re beautiful.”

He began unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders, letting it fall away before leaning down over her once more. He cupped her face, his fingers brushing tenderly along her cheek. “I love you,” he whispered, his words like a vow.

She reached up, her hand resting against his cheek, her heart full. “And I love you.”

Then his lips found hers again, and this time the kiss was deeper, a melding of all the passion, loyalty, and devotion they shared. She surrendered to him, her world narrowing to the warmth of his embrace, the strength of his touch, as he claimed her completely in that moment meant only for them.

Isabella's fingers threaded through his hair, holding him close, anchoring herself in the warmth of him, the strength that had fought and suffered and sacrificed to be with her.

He pulled her closer, their bodies pressing together as they moved in perfect rhythm, unspoken promises echoing between them. She could feel his heartbeat against hers, steady and sure, a grounding presence amid the intensity of their embrace. There was nothing else in the world, nothing beyond the two of them, the unity they shared.

As they lay together, Isabella felt a deep, profound peace. She let herself believe that this was her reality now—the love they had fought so hard to secure, the sanctuary they had created together. Alaric’s hand moved to cradle her face, his eyes warm, reflecting a depth of emotion that went beyond words.

“You are my home, Isabella,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "My queen."

She gazed up at him, a soft smile touching her lips, feeling the weight of his words settle into her heart. “My king,” she replied, her voice steady and full of the devotion she had for him.

Their foreheads touched, breaths mingling as they lay there, bound not just by vows or blood oaths but by something transcendent. Isabella felt as though every wound, every scar, was healed in this moment. They were together, whole and complete, two souls who had finally found their way home to each other.

As their lips collided in a hungry, heated kiss, their hands roamed over each other's bodies, desperate to explore every inch of the other. Alaric's hands traveled down the curve of Isabella's spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His fingers reached the small of her back. Isabella sighed with desire as the cool air caressed her bare skin. She couldn't wait any longer. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his pants, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. Finally, she freed him from his confinement, and a low moan escaped her lips. He was hard, throbbing with need for her.

Alaric growled with primal hunger. His dominant side emerged, and he gently but firmly pushed her down onto the bed, looming over her. His eyes, usually so warm and tender, now blazed with lust and determination. He positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of him teasing her, driving her wild with anticipation.

"I want you," she whimpered, her hips arching upwards, silently begging for him to take her.

With one powerful thrust, he entered her. Isabella's back arched, her fingernails digging into the sheets beneath her. The sensation was beyond anything she'd ever experienced; they haven’t been together since before Kai was born, it took months for Isabella to recover from childbirth and then they decided to wait for the wedding. He filled her completely, stretching her in the most exquisite way.

Alaric didn't wait for her to adjust; he began to move in long, deep strokes, setting a relentless pace. Isabella moaned uncontrollably, her legs wrapping around his waist, urging him to go even deeper. The bed creaked in time with their frantic motions, the headboard smacking against the wall in a symphony of their passion.

He rolled them over so that she was straddling him. His hands gripped her hips, guiding her in a sensual rhythm, as she rode him. Their eyes locked as their bodies collided, their breathing ragged and uneven.
Alaric's cock twitched inside her, releasing his seed deep within her core. Isabella's climax erupted simultaneously, her body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

As their breathing slowed, they collapsed onto the damp sheets, their bodies entwined, their hearts racing in tandem.

"I love you, my little dove," Alaric whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Isabella turned to meet his gaze, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I love you too… My dragon.”