Page 43 of Alien Mercenary’s Wife (Lathar Mercenaries: Warborne #7)

Daaynal stood on the dais before him, in his full Imperial regalia. The ceremonial robes made his father look like the emperor he was, the iron crown catching the light as he reviewed the ceremony protocols on a dataflex.

"Nervous?" Red asked quietly from beside him.

He glanced at his daughter and smiled. Surprisingly, rather than having to be bribed to get dressed up, like normal, she'd agreed.

Her flame-colored hair was styled elegantly, a delicate crown that marked her royal status nestled in the curls, and her formal gown showed off the scales that rippled beneath her skin. She looked utterly beautiful.

"Terrified," he leaned in to whisper.

"Good. You should be. But I like her. Don't fuck this up, okay?" She grinned as she stepped back to rejoin her husbands.

He nodded, his throat thick with emotion at the endorsement from his somewhat prickly daughter. He loved Reese, but it would have been really difficult if Red hadn't liked her.

Behind Red, the rest of the Warborne crew stood as an honor guard.

Skinny's massive frame was barely contained by his formal clothes, though Marika had somehow convinced him to leave his weapons behind.

Sparky fidgeted with his collar, while Fin looked impressive in Navarrian royal dress.

Eric and Zad stood behind them, next to Mayce and Lina.

The others crowded behind them, Zero casting glances at a couple of Imperial lords who were looking down their noses at the mercenary team.

The sight of them—his chosen family, his crew, his people—dressed in their finest and standing witness to his wedding sent warmth spreading through his chest. They'd followed him across the galaxy, trusted his leadership through impossible odds, and now they were here to see him claim the happiness he'd never thought he deserved.

"Quite the honor guard," Daaynal murmured, stepping closer. "Though I must admit, the tradition is usually..."

"Usually what?"

"The groom typically sends his most powerful warriors to escort the bride safely to the ceremony," Daaynal commented, studying the assembled crew with interest. "A show of protection and respect. But you seem to have kept yours here with you."

T'Raal's grin spread. This was going to be good. "Actually, I sent exactly who I intended to send."

Daaynal's eyebrows rose, but before he could say anything, the ceremonial music began. Conversations died as heads turned toward the entrance.

T'Raal's breath caught as the doors opened.

Beauty appeared first, standing in the middle of the doorway and glaring around the hall. He looked lethal, a predator wrapped in formal clothes. Turning his head to the side, he nodded and held out his hand to someone they couldn't see.

"By the lady… A Serotovian," Daaynal breathed.

"Yeah." T'Raal's voice came out rougher than intended. "No one's getting to my mate with him around."

Daaynal chuckled. "The most powerful warrior you know, indeed."

The woman who stepped forward and took Beauty's hand stole every thought from T'Raal's mind.

Reese, his mate.

She took his breath away in her white wedding gown.

The silk dress caught the light perfectly, flowing around her like water.

Her dark hair framed her face in soft waves, tiny crystals catching the light.

But it was her expression that hit him hardest—pure joy, eyes bright with tears, and a smile meant only for him.

She was breathtaking. Absolutely, utterly breathtaking.

He couldn't tear his gaze away as she walked down the aisle with Beauty, her steps measured and precise. The pace was too damn slow. Protocol be damned. His hands clenched at his sides as he fought the urge to reach for her.

The guests rose as she passed, heads turning to follow her progress.

Imperial dignitaries who'd probably never seen a human wedding dress studied her with polite interest. At the same time, his crew watched with the pride of family seeing one of their own claim happiness.

Sparky was grinning so widely it looked painful, while Tal dabbed at his eyes with what appeared to be a crisp, white handkerchief.

As she got closer, T'Raal couldn't focus on anything else. The neural stimulator was gone—Laarn's healing had fixed that—and she moved with easy confidence. But it wasn't just the physical healing. She looked whole in a way that came from belonging.

Belonging with him.

Beauty delivered her to the altar, bowing to T'Raal before stepping back to take his place among the honor guard. T'Raal nodded his thanks. He'd trusted one of the most precious things in his life to the tall serotovian, and Beauty had made sure she was safe.

Reese turned to face him, and the love in her eyes made his throat tight. No hesitation, no doubt. She was here because she wanted to be. Because she'd chosen him.

She handed her bouquet to Eris with a smile and turned back to him.

Daaynal moved to the center of the dais, his voice carrying clearly through the hall as he addressed the assembled guests.

"Warriors, nobles, and honored friends… we gather here today for a ceremony that brings me immense joy as both Emperor and father.

Today, my son T'Raal claims his mate before the gods and the Empire.

For too many years, I believed I had no heir, no blood of my blood to carry on our lineage.

But the gods work in mysterious ways, and they have returned to me not just a son, but a warrior of extraordinary honor who has built his own legend among the stars. "

He looked directly at T'Raal, pride shining in his eyes.

"T'Raal chose his own path, forged his own destiny, and proved his worth not through birthright but through deeds.

Today, he chooses a mate who embodies the same strength, courage, and honor that define the finest of our people.

Princess Reese has earned her place as his chosen one and as a daughter of the Empire. "

Daaynal's gaze swept the crowd, ensuring his words reached every corner of the hall. "Let this bonding serve as proof that love knows no boundaries of species or origin, and that the strongest bonds are forged not by duty, but by choices freely made."

He paused, allowing the weight of the moment to settle over the crowd before beginning the ancient ceremony.

"Blood calls to blood and soul to soul. Soul calls to skin, woman to man, binding the halves of a whole together for all eternity.

" Daaynal's gaze found Reese, his voice warm.

"Princess Reese, do you take this warrior who bears your marks on his skin to bond-mate?

To support and honor him for the rest of his life? "

T'Raal held his breath. He knew her answer, but hearing it here and now would make it real.

"I do."

Daaynal turned to him. "Prince T'Raal, do you take this female who has called marks to your skin to bond-mate? To protect her and honor her for the rest of your life?"

The question was just a formality—he'd known his answer since the moment he'd first seen her.

"I do."

Daaynal raised his hands. "Then, as Emperor of the Lathar, I bless your bonding. May it bring much solace and be fruitful."

Daaynal's expression shifted, and he winked. "And in deference to human tradition, this is where you kiss the bride."

The words broke the tension. T'Raal reached for Reese with hands that shook slightly, cupping her face as he'd done countless times before. But this was different—this was for everyone to see. She belonged to him as much as he belonged to her.

When they kissed, everything else disappeared. Just Reese in his arms, kissing him back with the same joy he felt.

When they broke apart, both breathing hard, applause erupted from the assembled crowd.

Daaynal stepped forward.

"I present to you Prince T'Raal and Princess Reese Verran of the house of K'Saan, bonded before the Empire and blessed by the gods."

His human princess.

His mate.

His everything.