Chapter 27
1217 Words
Caspian’s POV
I was waiting where the corridor met the garden doors, my arms folded loosely but eyes sharp with concern. The moment Astrid stepped out, my posture shifted, relief easing the tension I hadn’t bothered to hide.
“What did they say?” I asked quietly.
Astrid didn’t answer right away. She reached for my hand instead, fingers threading through my hand with instinctive ease. “Walk with me,” she said. “I want to tell you somewhere quiet.”
***
The night welcomed them as they stepped into the gardens. Moonlight spilled over silver leaves and stone paths, the air cool and alive with the soft hum of the pack settling for the evening. Caspian slowed his pace to match hers, their shoulders brushing.
“They spoke to me as parents,” Astrid began. “Not as Royal Lycans. Not as leaders.”
Caspian glanced at her, surprised.
“They told me you carry the weight of the pack without complaint,” she continued. “That you’ve always put everyone else first.” She smiled faintly. “And that since I arrived, they’ve seen you breathe a little easier.”
He exhaled softly. “They noticed that?”
Astrid nodded. “Your mother said I bring you peace. Your father said I anchor you.”
Caspian stopped walking.
He turned to face her fully, searching her expression for doubt or fear, but found only warmth. “And you?” he asked. “What did you say?”
Astrid lifted her chin. “I told them I would protect you as fiercely as you protect me.”
Something in Caspian’s chest cracked open. He pulled her into his arms without thinking, resting his forehead against hers as the moonlight wrapped around them.
“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.
She smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You do.”
They resumed walking, slower now, hands entwined. The palace rose behind them, but ahead lay only moonlit paths and the quiet certainty of what they were becoming.
For the first time in a long while, Caspian felt utterly at peace. Not as an Alpha, not as a leader.
Just as a mate.
The garden slowly emptied as the pack drifted back toward the palace, their voices fading into the night. Moonlight lingered on the leaves, silver and soft, as Caspian and Astrid remained beneath the old willow, hands still entwined.
Neither felt the need to speak.
It was Caspian who finally broke the silence. “We should go inside. Tomorrow will be long.”
Astrid nodded, though she didn’t let go right away. “I don’t feel tired,” she admitted. “Just a bit full.”
He smiled faintly. “That’s how big moments feel.”
They walked back through the palace corridors together, the quiet echo of their footsteps grounding after the intensity of the night. When they reached Caspian’s chambers, he paused, studying her face.
“If you want your own room—”
She shook her head gently. “I want to stay.”
Relief flickered through his expression, but he said nothing more, only guiding her inside.
The room was dim, lit by a single lantern. Astrid slipped off her shoes and moved to the window, watching the moon hang low in the sky. Caspian joined her, standing close but not crowding.
“Does it frighten you?” he asked quietly. “What tomorrow means?”
She thought for a moment. “No. What frightens me is how right this feels.”
He chuckled softly. “Good. It should.”
They changed in comfortable silence and lay down together, the space between them closing naturally. Caspian rested his arm around her, not possessive but protective.
Astrid listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. “Whatever comes,” she whispered, “we face it together.”
“Always,” he replied.
Sleep found them easily. And they slept till dawn the next day because of how tired they were from their long journey from the red mist pack to the royal palace.
Dusk came gently.
Soft light filtered through the tall windows, painting the room in pale gold. Astrid woke first, blinking as awareness settled. For a moment, she simply lay there, listening to the quiet rhythm of Caspian’s breathing beside her.
This is real, she thought.
As if sensing her wakefulness, Caspian stirred. His eyes opened, dark and alert almost instantly, then softened when he saw her.
“How are you feeling” he murmured.
She smiled. “Is this how Lycans and Alphas wake up on important days?”
He huffed quietly. “Usually earlier. But today I wanted one last moment of calm.”
He sat up, stretching, then turned serious. “Are you ready?”
Astrid took a breath, steady and sure. “Yes.”
Servants arrived shortly after, respectful and efficient. Astrid was guided away briefly to prepare, her heart steady despite the significance of the day ahead.
As she dressed in ceremonial attire, she caught her reflection, it was calm, composed, powerful.
Not anxious.
Ready.
When Caspian came to escort her, his gaze lingered, pride unmistakable. “You were always meant for this.”
She met his eyes. “So were you.”
They stepped into the morning light together, toward tradition, destiny, and the bond that would soon be sealed before the pack and the moon.
The ceremonial grounds glowed beneath the full moon.
Torches lined the ancient circle, their flames steady and bright as members of the pack gathered in respectful silence. The air thrummed with anticipation, this was no ordinary night. This was tradition. Legacy. Binding.
Astrid stood at Caspian’s side, dressed in silver and deep blue, the symbols of the pack embroidered along the hem. She felt the weight of hundreds of eyes on her, they were not judging, but witnessing.
Caspian stepped forward, his presence commanding without force. “Tonight,” he said, voice carrying easily, “I present my mate to the pack, not as a secret, not as a question, but as a truth.”
A murmur rippled through the circle approval, pride, recognition.
Astrid lifted her chin as Caspian’s mother approached, carrying the ceremonial blade. Caspian’s father followed, bearing the moonstone chalice.
“Do you accept this bond?” his mother asked Astrid gently. “With all its duties, dangers, and honor?”
“I do,” Astrid said clearly.
“And do you,” his father asked Caspian, “bind yourself to her before the pack and the Moon?”
“I do,” Caspian replied without hesitation.
They each pressed a palm to the moonstone, sealing the oath. Power surged softly through the circle, not violent, but profound.
The pack bowed as one.
“By moon and blood,” Caspian’s father proclaimed, “Astrid is recognized as mate to our Lycan king.”
A howl rose into the night, it was one voice at first, then many, weaving together until the sound echoed through the forest itself.
Astrid felt Caspian’s hand tighten around hers.
She was no longer just welcomed.
She was claimed.
And as the howls faded into the stars, Astrid knew this was not an ending, but it was the beginning of a reign built on love, loyalty, and shared strength.
- Writer
