Defy The Alpha(s) novel Chapter 729

Chapter 729: Meet The Princess

And yes, there was a good reason Alaric stole the attention of the room right now—or rather, the Alaric they once knew—because the one standing before them was entirely different.

Alaric Storm’s snow-white hair was now long and straight. It had been pulled back neatly, flowing down his back in smooth, silken lengths. A silver circlet rested against his forehead, lending him the unmistakable air of high status, or more precisely, royalty.

Despite his natural paleness, there was a light dusting of powder across his face, emphasizing his sharp cheekbones and strong, straight features. Small crystalline patterns crept above both of his well-defined brows, catching the light whenever he turned his head.

Finally, Alaric was dressed in layers of white robes intricately embroidered with swirling patterns resembling ancient Fae runes. The fabric was rich and structured, yet flowed with effortless elegance. Overall, with his calm, distant expression, Alaric gave off an almost untouchable aura. He looked every bit a Fae prince—and had his ears been slightly tapered, the illusion would have been perfect.

Of course, he could have achieved that with a bit of Fae magic — which his attendants had suggested — but he did not care. As much as he appreciated his mate’s culture, he was still proudly a werewolf—and he intended to make that clear to the free Fae.

"No!!!!" Roman’s wail broke the silence. He looked at Alaric with the expression of a man whose friend had utterly betrayed his trust.

"Dude...." He pointed at Alaric with trembling fingers, still struggling to process his appearance. "Isn’t this taking it too far? Do you want to hoard her attention that badly?"

And of course, this was all about Violet. They were all dressing up for her — or at least, that was how Roman reasoned it. And Alaric had gone extra.

Asher, at this point, ignored both of them, focused on adjusting his tunic. Leave it to the two idiots to be dramatic. If Violet only wanted them for how they looked, then he wouldn’t have stood a chance from the start.

His gaze drifted to his reflection in the mirror, to the slitted gray eyes he’d spent most of his life despising. "Cursed eyes", people called them.

But Violet had said she liked them.

He blinked slowly, studying the way the new makeup sharpened their edge, how it made them stand out. ...Okay. He admitted it quietly to himself. It did look good.

Asher lifted a hand, tempted to yank the flower from his hair again, but instead he smoothed it into place, admiring the result. He smiled — well just a little because Roman started wailing again, and the moment was ruined.

Asher groaned inwardly, tempering the urge to strangle somebody. Goddess save him. How did he get associated with these idiots in the first place?

Alaric ignored the South Alpha and went to sit on the couch, but Roman, like a persistent housefly, followed him with accusations.

"Tell me the truth," Roman insisted. "You did this on purpose because you know our mate loves long hair. Now Violet’s not going to take her eyes off you. What about me? Aren’t we brothers? You’re supposed to communicate your genius ideas to me too!"

Alaric looked him over calmly and said, "You’re showing off your strong arms and sexy chest. That should steal her attention too."

Roman threw his head back and let out an exaggerated groan. Sure, Violet’s eyes would drag over his chest all night—that was the plan—but long hair on Alaric? That was novelty. Brilliant novelty. How had he not thought of it?

Griffin spoke up then. "It’s just hair, Roman. Nothing else."

"Just hair?" Roman scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You’ll be the one with your eyes closed, whining give me more while she runs her fingers through it."

He waved a hand dramatically. "And do you know the extra pleasure that comes when she yanks it so tight you might come undone on the spot—" He jabbed a finger at his own shorter hair. "But look at this. This is a tragedy."

Alaric swore he hadn’t meant to laugh, but it ripped out of him anyway. Roman was just so fucking hilarious sometimes. He laughed until he clutched his stomach, and even Griffin had to cover his mouth, shoulders shaking.

"Oh, laugh it up," Roman snapped. "You two majestic shampoo-commercial assholes."

But his outburst only made Alaric and Griffin laugh harder. Asher wasn’t spared either; his carefully maintained straight face looked downright tortured as he fought the urge not to laugh his heart off.

Roman Draven will be the death of him.

Then Griffin finally broke through his laughter long enough to suggest, "If it pains you that much, why don’t you ask for your own hair?"

That turned out to be a terrible idea.

She looked like something pulled straight from a dream.

None of the cardinal alphas dared to talk, spell bound by their mate standing before them. Violet’s hair was swept back from her face, smoothed and wet gelled so perfectly it framed her features without a single strand daring to rebel. The style bared her forehead and temples, giving her an almost sculpted look.

Her golden eyes were the first thing that held attention. The makeup around them was darkened just enough to make the gold burn brighter and luminous, looking less human.

Then her lips were painted a deep, muted shade of purple, matte and regal, a color that was less decorative, making a bold statement instead. Across the bridge of her nose and the high points of her cheeks, fine flecks of glitters caught the light like stardust.

Resting against her forehead was a delicate circlet, similar in design to Alaric’s but unmistakably hers. It was thin, crystalline, and glowed, as though responding to her presence rather than simply sitting upon her skin.

And then there was the dress.

At first glance, it looked as though Violet wore nothing at all. The fabric was impossibly thin, clinging to her like a second skin, translucent in a way that defied modesty without ever crossing it.

It was a soft, radiant shade of purple, one that made her skin appear almost luminous beneath it, as if light lived just under her flesh. The garment was both simple and complex, flowing seamlessly over her body while intricate patterns shifted subtly within it.

When it came to both sides of her belly, Roman and Alaric’s rune could be seen through it, and despite how daring it appeared, none of her intimate parts were exposed. The magic of it was so precise, intentional, and reverent. Tiny points of light threaded through the fabric, sparkling as she moved, like beautiful stars trapped in silk.

Violet’s expression was calm, and composed. There was softness in her gaze, but commanding as well. She did not need to assert her power, no, it existed at that moment. It was undeniable.

The princess of the Free Fae. Violet Purple. Their mate. Except she looked less like their mate standing before them and more like the living embodiment of magic itself. It was no wonder Alaric had to close Roman’s mouth with his hand—it had fallen open.

"Holy shit..." Griffin muttered, unable to believe his eyes. "How...?" He was utterly amazed by the dress.

Violet blinked, releasing a slow breath. She had been anxious, wondering what her mates would think of her appearance, but now it seemed she had worried for nothing, especially with the way Asher stared at her.