Page 1 of Mated to the Crown
A woman walks in, her pale blue dress bunching at her calves as she walks. Her face is in a permanent scowl but it doesn’t quite touch her soft blue eyes. Her light brown hair is windswept, pulled up in an elaborate bun. She stops, eyes taking me in and I set my jaw.
“I object.” Her voice is loud, breaking through the stuffiness of the church.
“Do you, now?” The priest asks. “And what makes you say that?” He quirks an eyebrow.
An older fellow, but one tied to my family.
His black robe and bald head make him the epitome of a minister.
My gaze leaves his face and back to hers, a wicked smile appearing on it.
I absentmindedly drop my hands, releasing my bride to be’s in the process and watch the woman who walked in.
“Because I am his mate, and I don’t give a fuck if you care that I am Royal or not.
The Goddess chose me.” With that statement she rips the sleeve of the dress off.
The fancy tulle hangs limp on her shoulder before she pulls it completely off, revealing the tattoo that I knew I would find.
Gasps and murmurs dissipate through the crowd.
My throat constricts at the display of her bare arm.
Intricate designs, seeming to pulse with her heartbeat fill her skin. They wrap around her upper arm in a dark blue and fade to her elbow. I glance at my bride to be. She is beautiful with her curly blonde hair and piercing green eyes, but she isn’t my Queen.
I walk over to the woman with the blue dress, stopping inches from her.
The whole audience watches me as I move.
My footsteps break the silence but no one dares to move.
Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of emotions fill me as she goes to open her mouth.
I shake my head and slowly take off my suit jacket and toss it to the floor beside me.
The entire church has their attention rapt on us.
I unbutton the top of my shirt and the woman’s eyes widen before reaching out to touch me.
I grab her hand as it reaches out to me, kissing her palm gently. It’s okay.
She relaxes under my grip. She is shorter than me, but her dress billows out so that it covers the things I like most about her.
The way her hips swell. The pop of the top button on my shirt echoes in the silence.
The way her waist is an hourglass shape.
Pop. The way her freckles trace down her cheeks to her chest and across her shoulders.
Pop. The way she screams my name. Pop. Pop.
I pull the shirt down far enough to reveal the same tattoo marking my arm. It swirls around my shoulder, digging into my flesh with a darker blue than hers. Her eyes do not move from my gaze but hushed whispers and gasps fill the room once more.
“There you are, My Queen.” I smile and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close. My lips meet hers and instantly she melts against me, her arms wrapping around my neck and pulling me tight.