Chapter 217: Courage
Love had never been a sweet, effortless gift for us. Our path to one another had been excruciatingly long, paved with bitter agony and blood.
There were times when we lost our way, inflicting unbearable wounds upon each other’s hearts. Yet that perilous, blood-soaked journey had only tempered our resolve, teaching us to treasure every shared breath. It taught us to look past mere physical beauty and embrace the fractured darkness hidden deep within the soul.
Without those trials and mistakes, we would not be who we were today.
. . .
Inside the grand, lavishly decorated banquet hall, the atmosphere buzzed with raucous celebration. The guests seemed locked in an informal competition to pull our hands apart and keep us as far from each other as possible—as though sensing our desperate craving to steal away into the night.
Matthias and Damian had long since departed for home alongside Jake and our personal security party. The boys had been so thoroughly exhausted by the day’s whirlwind that they had begun nodding off right at the feast table.
Sayan sat beside a glowing Rianna, stone-cold sober. He seemed terrified to leave her side for even a single minute, completely failing to fulfill his grand promise to get hopelessly drunk.
He hadn’t even wept upon the soft bosoms of the wealthy elder females—a truly irreplaceable loss for those two heavily powdered matriarchs. Though they had arrived at the reception accompanied by exceptionally young suitors, Sayan was, objectively speaking, far more striking than their pale companions.
"You look utterly exhausted," drawled a tipsy Annie, beaming happily as she stared down at her phone screen.
"I am pregnant, my feet are throbbing from these high heels, and I’ve been on my feet since dawn. So yes—I am truly exhausted," I replied, lifting a heavy crystal goblet of orange juice to my lips and taking a greedy gulp.
"Oh, and you still have to survive your wedding night somehow!" Annie let out a delightfully wicked snort, clapping a hand over her mouth and glancing around sheepishly to check if anyone had overheard.
"So that’s what they mean when they talk about squealing like a pig when drunk?" I asked with a soft laugh.
"Hey, I just had a little extra to celebrate! Besides, I’m not the one facing a night of scorching passion with a ravenous, wild Alpha husband. I’m allowed," she winked flirtatiously before making a face of instant disgust. "Ugh, shrimp. I thought this was chicken."
"Forgive me, Your Royal Highness—my deepest apologies for the menu blunder," I offered a theatrical bow, watching her raise her brows in mock indignation.
"I might grant you a royal pardon, but only if you look at what I posted online half an hour ago," she declared triumphantly, sliding her phone across the table.
I glanced down at the screen. Played out on the video was the entire transcript and footage of our courtroom trial from earlier today.
"Where on earth did you get this?" I whispered, staring at her in shock.
"A micro-camera hidden right inside the tie bar of one of your security officers. It already has hundreds of thousands of views and comments. The sensation caused by your bare legs in the courtroom is nothing short of legendary. It’s the scandal of the century."
Setting her phone back down on the crisp tablecloth, I could already feel the heavy anticipation of the punishment awaiting me at home. I was undoubtedly going to get slapped on the rear a few times tonight.
Casting a quick glance across the bustling hall, I caught my husband’s eyes fixed unwaveringly on me. Meeting his darkened, possessive gaze, I gave a subtle nod toward the exit.
Excusing myself from the intoxicated Annie, I slipped away toward the restrooms, doing my best not to draw attention. But just a single door shy of the ladies’ room, a powerful arm reached out from the shadows, yanked me into a dark, empty chamber, and trapped my lips in a hot, imperious kiss that instantly stole the air from my lungs.
"You’re driving me insane," Magnus whispered directly against my lips.
Pressing myself tight against him, I could feel every inch of his rigid, unbearable arousal through the heavy fabric of his trousers and the layers of my wedding dress.
"Let’s just run away," I breathed, letting a trembling hand trace the broad expanse of his chest.
"Jake already pulled the car around to the back exit." Pressing a bruising kiss to my lips, Magnus laced his fingers tightly through mine.
We moved quickly—nearly running—through the back service corridors of the restaurant. The second the tinted doors of the car shut behind us, we slammed into each other in a frantic, hungry kiss, smearing the last traces of my lipstick away.
"Jake, take us to the coastal hotel I reserved. Fast," Magnus growled, his eyes dark with raw passion as he refused to break eye contact. "You do realize you’re getting punished severely for that stunt with your skirt in court, don’t you?" he whispered, his hot, calloused hand sliding beneath the hem of my dress to claim the curve of my hip in an unyielding, possessive grip.
"Is that a promise?" I bit gently at his lower lip, licking it clean as I watched pure, consuming hellfire ignite in the depths of his storm-grey eyes.
***
The patrons in the spacious hotel lobby stole covert glances in our direction. Not overtly, of course, but the weight of that suffocating scrutiny made my skin itch.
Fortunately, we didn’t have to linger at the reception desk. Staff ushered us quietly through a secluded corridor toward the private elevator. Throughout it all, Magnus’s hand remained anchored possessively at my waist, his fingertips brushing feather-light over the swell of my pregnant stomach, sending sparks cascading along my nerves.
My Alpha was as taut as a drawn bowstring, driven by more than just pulsing desire. A sharp, predator’s vigilance radiated from him. The trial had ended in our triumph, but in a city as corrupt as this, danger was a shadow that never fully retreated. Enemies might assume that now—alone and celebrating—we would be relaxed and unprepared.
Yet this brutal life had taught us never to lower our guard.
We were not living out a fairytale. We stood at the pinnacle of a ruthless hierarchy, where every rival was waiting to push us into the abyss. Acquiring power was difficult enough; holding onto it was a constant war. The same applied to our happiness. Born from suffering, bought with blood, and wrested directly from fate, it was the one thing we could never afford to lose.
"My strong, brave girl," the man rumbled softly, drawing me flush against his side as the high-speed elevator glided silently toward the penthouse suite.
"I’m not brave," I confessed, turning to look into his darkened eyes before meeting our reflection in the polished doors. "I was terrified every single second. I was so scared of making a mistake, of worsening the situation, of losing you... I’m not brave at all. I’m a coward."
"Fear is completely natural, Jane," Magnus replied as the doors slid open. He led me out into a wide, quiet corridor where only a pair of massive double doors stood far apart. "Anyone who claims to fear nothing is just a fool with a broken survival instinct. True courage isn’t the absence of fear—it’s pushing forward and fighting through the suffocating terror. Courage is looking your fear straight in the eye and charging right through it."
Swiping the black keycard through the electronic lock, we stepped into a suite that looked like anything but a cliché bridal chamber. The spacious room featured deep charcoal-graphite walls, subtly accented with fresh white blossoms. A massive bed with crisp, snow-white linens faced a leather sofa and a working fireplace. There were no gaudy pink Cupids, heart-shaped rose petal arrangements, or decorative candles. The space felt as if it had been custom-designed specifically for the two of us.
"I’m afraid, too."
Magnus wrapped his arms around me from behind, burying his face heavily into the crown of my head. The outside noise and crowd evaporated. It was just the two of us. Husband and wife. Man and woman. Alpha and Luna.
"Really?" I whispered, a trace of doubt in my voice.
My Magnus and the word fear simply didn’t belong in the same sentence. It was hard to imagine him ever experiencing such an emotion.
"Yes. I’m terrified for you. Terrified for our children. I fear nothing else in this world, but that alone is enough to tear me apart every single day."
"And how do you fight it?" Turning in his arms, I pushed up onto my tiptoes, reaching toward his lips.
"I used to seek clever workarounds to avoid collision and neutralize threats quietly," he murmured. "Now, I simply strike first."