AWB Chapter 146: Marked and Claimed
Chapter 146: Marked and Claimed
RION
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the most breathtaking sight in the world.
Vivien’s hazel eyes, warm gold flickering in their depths, were inches from mine, sparkling like morning light over still water. She smiled softly.
"I prepared us breakfast," she murmured, kissing the tip of my nose.
I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring her scent.
When I pulled her closer, she squeaked softly and ended up sprawled across my chest, her hair like a cloud of black silk around us. She giggled, and I swear the sound alone could resurrect me from death.
The war was over.
Vivien and I had fought for the peaceful life we dreamed of. When the Alpha King of the Arysian wolves fell, his surviving warriors fled back to their continent, too broken to continue a fight that no longer had a purpose.
In the days after, Vivien and I held a meeting with the other pack Alphas across our continent. They knew we were the ones who ended the war, that Vivien was the Celestial wolf reborn, so even the most prejudiced among them couldn’t refuse us. Respect or fear kept their mouths shut.
Vivien proposed a new treaty between the Undercity and the packs aboveground. Trade. Shared defenses. No more treating my people as criminals. For the first time in generations, peace wasn’t a myth, it was a tangible thing.
Some Alphas hesitated, but none dared oppose her openly. They feared her divine power more than they feared change... and their own people adored her far too much for them to publicly reject her.
Because of Vivien, the Undercity was changed for the better.
She had given me the world simply by existing by my side.
"What did you make for breakfast, hmm?" I whispered into her ear as she tried to slip out of my arms. She wiggled and giggled, her laughter brushing warm against my neck.
"Get up and see for yourself!"
I groaned dramatically, which made her laugh again, and—Goddess—if she asked me to jump off a cliff after that sound, I might’ve considered it.
I eventually sat up, watching as she tugged me toward the door. Vivien wasn’t exactly a great cook. Actually, she was terrible, but she had been practicing. I cherished every attempt, even the burnt ones.
But instead of leading me to the dining hall, she guided me somewhere else.
The greenhouse.
Morning light filtered through the glass walls, turning the plants into glowing washed-in-gold silhouettes. Dew clung to leaves like tiny crystals. In the center, she had set up a small table with mismatched plates and a tray of food that looked far better than her early attempts.
I raised a brow. "Did you... cook all this yourself?"
She puffed her chest. "Of course I did."
I inspected the food again. It wasn’t smoking. It wasn’t burnt. It didn’t look suspiciously charred or dangerously raw.
"...Who supervised you?"
She slapped my arm with a huff. "Raye only helped me with the fire part! Everything else was me!"
I chuckled, pulling out her chair. "Then I am honored, my lady. Sit before the food gets shy."
Vivien rolled her eyes but sat down, brushing her hair behind her ear. Her cheeks were tinted pink, proud and embarrassed at the same time.
As we ate, she watched me like a wolf waiting for judgment.
"Well?" she asked impatiently when I took the first bite.
I chewed slowly, just to mess with her. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
Finally, I swallowed. "It’s good."
"Good?" She leaned forward. "Good enough to survive? Good enough that you won’t faint later? Good enough t—"
I cut her off with a kiss, gentle but firm. She froze, then melted against me.
"It’s perfect because you made it," I whispered.
Her eyes softened, and when she smiled, everything in the greenhouse seemed to bloom at once.
We continued eating, her nudging me with her foot under the table, me stealing bits from her plate on purpose, both of us laughing over nothing and everything. The kind of morning I once thought I’d never have.
Just when I leaned back in my chair, full and content, ready to drag her onto my lap—
Raye burst through the greenhouse door.
"There’s no time to waste!" she shrieked, throwing her hands up. "Today is your marking ceremony and you’re not ready yet? Both of you need to dress up now!"
I blinked at her. Vivien blinked at her.
Raye stomped her foot. "Move!"
Vivien and I exchanged a look. Hers amused, mine resigned.
And so our peaceful morning came to an end.
***
VIVIEN
Before I could utter even a syllable of protest, Raye seized my wrist and whisked me out of the greenhouse like a woman possessed. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to catch Rion leaning back in his chair, smirking at me like he’d already predicted this outcome hours ago.
’Just let her do what she wants,’ his voice echoed sweetly through our bond. ’She’s the organizer today. She’ll bite your head off if you ruin her masterpiece.’
He wasn’t wrong.
Raye marched me straight to my old bedroom, where my dress waited on the mannequin like a silent guardian of fate.
A beaded silver gown, soft as moonlight, shimmering like frost, with streams of black detailing curling along the skirt, reminiscent of living shadows.
The marking ceremony would be held at the city square. Public, grand, and packed to the brim with excited spectators. Our people. They had waited, prayed, and hoped for this day as much as we had.
By the time Raye finished fussing over every strand of hair and every bead on my gown, I could only stare at my reflection in open-mouthed disbelief.
The gown flowed over my body like it had been spun from starlight itself, each silver bead catching light like tiny frozen stars. The black accents kissed the fabric like drifting smoke. My hair was half-braided, half cascading in soft waves down my back, threaded with slender ribbons of silver.
I looked like a story the Moon Goddess had whispered into existence.
Ares and Diaval arrived to escort me, each offering an arm.
They led me through the quiet corridors until the distant hum of the city grew louder, and then the city square unfolded before me in a breathtaking display.
An aisle had been constructed down the center of the square, blanketed in soft white rose petals that glowed under lanterns and stone lights. Lanterns shaped like crescent moons floated in the air around us, flickering softly with silver-blue light.
When I stepped forward, the petals shifted under my feet as though welcoming me.
And at the end of the aisle stood Rion.
He wore a tailored black suit that fit him sinfully well, his dark silver hair combed back to reveal the sharp lines of his face, and those piercing sea-green eyes locked onto me with a hunger and tenderness that stole my breath.
He looked at me like I was the only star in the sky.
Our people rose to their feet, creating a breathtaking sea of faces. Their expressions held no fear, only warmth. Acceptance. Gratitude. Some touched their foreheads in reverence. Others wiped tears.
Even Jesmine and Mira stood together with soft smiles, no sharpness in their eyes, only respect.
’You are so beautiful,’ Rion whispered through our bond, each word brushing against my mind like a warm hand stroking my cheek.
I swallowed, my steps becoming lighter the closer I got to him.
When I reached the dais, I whispered, "Thank you," to Ares and Diaval.
Ares smirked and executed a dramatic bow, while Diaval’s smile was gentle, sincere, and filled with pride.
Raye sat in the front row, eyes shimmering with tears.
’I’m so happy for you, Vien,’ Leika said warmly.
Rion extended his hand, and when I placed mine into his, his thumb traced slow circles against my skin.
Together, we faced the priestess.
The ceremony was brief, but every second felt like it traced itself onto my soul, the Moon Goddess as our witness, our people as our chorus, and the Undercity itself holding its breath.
It ended with Rion lifting my wrist, his canines brushing my skin before his mark burned warmly into place, an ancient symbol blooming across my flesh, glowing faintly with silver and shadow.
Claiming me.
Choosing me.
Marking me as his.
Our lips met as the crowd erupted into applause and howls of celebration. The kiss was soft at first, then deepened. His hand cupping my jaw, mine tangled in his hair.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine and whispered darkly against my lips,
"You are officially mine. Marked and claimed."
And with his mark burning on my wrist and the taste of his kiss on my mouth, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.
I was his. And he was mine. Forever.