Page 88 of Alpha's Exiled Mate

We stood there, the sun sinking behind us, the roses whispering in the breeze, their scent a soft embrace.

“Alexander,” I said, his true name heavy on my tongue, a weight and a promise, “I don’t know how to forgive you.”

His eyes dimmed, despair creeping in, his shoulders sagging under the weight of my words.

“But,” I continued, my voice trembling, my heart leading, “I don’t know how to stop loving you either.”

Hope flared in his gaze, a light reigniting, his breath catching. “Anna…”

“If we start again,” I said, my voice firm, a vow to myself as much as to him, “it’s with truth. No more lies, no more secrets, no more hiding.”

“I swear it,” he said, relief flooding his face, his eyes shimmering with gratitude. “No more hiding, Anna, ever. I’m yours, completely.”

He knelt, as he had in this garden months ago, but now as himself, his prince’s garb a stark contrast to the groom’s tunic, his gaze unwavering. “Princess Anna,” he said, his voice steady, a vow carved from his soul, “I, Alexander Valder, beg your forgiveness and ask you to marry me—not for kingdoms, not for power, but because you’re my fated mate, the heart of my life, the only future I want.”

My anger softened, love rising like a tide, warm and unstoppable, my wolf’s joy a song within me.

“Stand up, Prince Alexander,” I said, offering my hand, my voice soft but certain, a promise of my own. “We begin anew, together.”

Our engagement sent shock-waves through both kingdoms. When Alexander officially proposed to me, the entire kingdom was abuzz with excitement. The union of our two nations not only brought political benefits, but more importantly, it was a marriage rooted in true love.

The wedding took place in the spring, with subjects from both kingdoms coming to offer their congratulations. As I walked down the aisle in my white wedding gown and saw the tears in Alexander’s eyes, I knew that all the waiting and pain had been worth it.

“We’ve been through so much,” he whispered to me as we exchanged rings, “but I’ve never regretted falling in love with you.”

I said, my voice steady, my heart full, sliding his ring—engraved with a wolf and a star—onto his finger. “You broke my heart, Alexander, but you also made it whole, stronger than ever.”

The priest pronounced us bound, and as Alexander lifted my veil, his kiss was soft yet searing, a seal of our vows, our fated mate bond humming with joy, a light that filled the cathedral. The crowd erupted, their cheers a wave that carried us into a future we’d build together, hand in hand.

After the ceremony, we slipped away, returning to our meadow, the ancient oak a silent witness to our beginning. The grass was soft underfoot, the air sweet with wildflowers, the moon rising to bathe us in silver. “Remember our first dance here?”

Alexander asked, pulling me close, his hands warm at my waist.

“How could I forget?” I laughed, leaning into him, my heart light. “I thought you were just a groom, a boy with dreams as big as mine.”

“That was the purest love,” he said, his voice soft, his eyes holding mine, “no titles, no games, just us, two souls finding each other.”

We danced again on that meadow, this time with the moonlight as our backdrop and our eternal vows as our melody.

Years later, when we had our own children, I would tell them our story: a tale of a princess and a “stable boy,” of destined partners breaking through the barriers of status, and of true love conquering all obstacles.

As my grandmother once said, “True love cannot be hindered by status or position.” Our story, and that of my parents, is the best proof of that.

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