Fated and knocked up by the Alpha King (Elara) novel Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen – Mine, Yours, Ours

Elara’s POV

The airport was a chaos of rolling suitcases, delayed flight announcements, and one very determined toddler insisting that the moving walkway was his personal racetrack. By the time Cassia and I wrangled Aeron into the car that waited for us outside, I was already sweating under my winter coat.

“Operation Wedding Glow Up 2025,” Cassia declared, tossing her hair as though we weren’t running late. “Nothing can stop us now.”

“Snack!” Aeron yelled from his car seat, clutching Mister Dwagon like a knight with his sword.

Cassia twisted around, pulling a cookie from her bottomless tote. “Don’t worry, nephew, Aunt Cass delivers.”

I sighed. “You’re encouraging him.”

“I’m building morale,” she said brightly.

The car purred onto the snow-packed road toward the Ashthorne great hall. My pulse had been drumming since we landed, but I forced myself to breathe. This was supposed to be a simple wedding visit. Nothing more.

Of course, the Goddess had other plans.

Because halfway there, Aeron decided to declare war.

“My tummy!” he moaned suddenly, clutching his middle. His little face scrunched, dramatic as only a two-and-a-half-year-old could be. “Tummy go boom-boom.”

The driver flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror. Cassia’s jaw dropped. “Oh no. Oh, absolutely not. Not in this car-”

I was already unbuckling him. “Stop here. Now.”

We pulled over on the snowy roadside, and within minutes, the crisis resolved with wipes, a spare set of pants, and Aeron announcing to the frosty air, “I big boy now! No boom-boom!”

Cassia pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m burning this outfit.”

The delay sealed it: Alpha Darius, Luna Lyanna, and Caius had gone ahead in the second car, their headlights already vanished into the white blur of snowfall. Which meant we’d arrive late.

Perfect.

We didn’t just arrive at the Ashthorne great hall.

We stormed it.

The great carved doors swung wide, slamming against the stone so hard the chandeliers rattled. Warm candlelight spilled out, gilding the aisle and catching on polished wood and silken gowns. For one suspended heartbeat, it felt like the entire hall had been holding its breath for our entrance.

Cassia led the way, red dress snapping at her heels, her hair a shimmering golden wave that screamed deliberate trouble. Trouble in stilettoes. Trouble with a smirk.

I followed, breathless, wind-tossed hair refusing to be tamed, my dark dress clinging against the winter chill. Aeron was perched on my hip like a biscuit-crumbed prince – one sock missing, one pant leg suspiciously damp, Mister Dwagon raised in triumph like he’d conquered Rome.

The hall went dead silent.

Aeron broke it with all the confidence in the world.

“TA-DA!”

Somewhere in the second row, someone choked on champagne.

Cassia grinned like we’d rehearsed it. “Sorry we’re late,” she announced breezily, her voice carrying clear to the altar. “Had to fight a snowstorm, a parking crisis, and a toddler dictatorship.”

“I win!” Aeron shouted, puffing his chest out. Then he blew a kiss to a table of startled Omegas. “Hi peoples!”

Ripples of amusement moved through the gathered crowd. Every step we took down the aisle echoed – ours alone, in the hush of whispers barely contained.

Curious eyes.

Judging eyes.

Hungry-for-gossip eyes.

The air smelled of roses, pine, and politics.

At the altar, the bride Sera Ashthorne-gleamed like frost spun into lace, her hands perfectly folded around her bouquet. The groom beside her – tall, broad, dark ceremonial coat brushing polished boots-wore gold eyes that swept the crowd with effortless authority. The calm ownership of a man who had never once questioned his place at the top.

Until those eyes found me.

Everything in the room went still. No music. No whispers. Just the punch of recognition.

Paris. Low light. Whiskey. His mouth on mine. The way I’d let myself believe in

one reckless night.

The Alpha King.

My wolf surged. My pulse tripped.

“Mommy,” Aeron stage-whispered, tugging at my collar, “dat man’s shiny.”

The Alpha King’s nostrils flared. His jaw locked. And then, in a voice that rumbled through the rafters like thunder-

“Mine.”

The quartet screeched to a halt. The priest’s mouth snapped shut. A low buzz swept the room, scandal blooming in real time.

Aeron blinked, startled — then grinned. He pointed a crumb-dusted finger.

–

“Mine too! Mommy mine. Dwagon mine. You… mine?” His little head tilted. “You Daddy?”

The gasp that followed could have torn the roof straight off.

Something cracked in the Alpha King’s face. His mask of steel softened, lit, burned. He stepped down from the altar.

Sera clutched his arm, her voice a hiss sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t you dare.”

“Cokie?” Aeron tried again, because priorities were priorities.

Cassia – goddess, menace, chaos-bringer-produced one without missing a beat, passing it to him like a relay baton.

The Alpha King kept walking, each step a verdict. He stopped close enough that the heat of him rolled across my skin. His voice dropped, low and lethal, but meant for us alone.

“My pup.”

The world tilted sideways.

Aeron squinted at him, then solemnly nodded. “I pup. You big.”

Cassia leaned in, stage-whispering, “Very big.”

“Cass,” I hissed.

“What? He is.”

Behind us, Sera swayed, her grip slipping, her voice high and furious. “This is a sacred-”

“We won’t be continuing,” the Alpha King said, never taking his eyes off me.

The hall erupted.

Sera’s voice rose sharp as broken glass. “You are humiliating me in front of every Alpha in the Northern Territories—”

“No,” he cut her off, velvet and steel. “You’ve been spared a far greater humiliation. Now step aside.”

Gasps scattered like thrown beads. The priest shut his book with a snap.

Her glare sliced toward me. “You. Always you. Crawling back for scraps—”

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