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Alaysia

The crystal walls caught the light, sending rainbow prisms dancing across Alaysia’s white gown.

Her fingers traced the delicate beadwork at her waist, still unable to believe this moment was real.

Two weeks ago, she’d been a slave. Now she stood in the sacred sanctuary of Niri, about to marry the warrior who’d saved her life.

“Stop fidgeting or you’ll wrinkle the silk.” Marcella adjusted the gossamer veil, its iridescent threads shimmering.

“What if I trip? Or say the wrong words?”

“You won’t.” Marcella’s hands were steady as she wove crystal beads through Alaysia’s red waves. “Though I never thought I’d see you this nervous. Where’s that defiant slave girl who stood up to Fyret?”

“She fell in love.” The words came out soft, almost reverent.

“And found her freedom doing it.” Marcella stepped back to survey her work. “There. Perfect.”

Alaysia turned to the mirror. The white dress hugged her curves before flowing out like water.

Tiny crystals caught the light with every movement, making her sparkle like the sacred walls around them.

Her hair fell in loose curls down her back, woven through with beads that matched the ones adorning the sanctuary’s pillars.

“Do you think Dernin will like it?”

“That warrior would think you were beautiful in rags.” Marcella squeezed her shoulder.

A knock echoed through the chamber, causing Alaysia’s heart to leap into her throat.

“Not yet,” Marcella called out. “The bride isn’t ready.”

“Take your time.” The deep voice belonged to the temple priest. “We have all day for this sacred union.”

Alaysia closed her eyes, breathing in the sweet incense that filled the air. After years of having no control over her life, this choice—this love—was entirely hers. The thought steadied her trembling hands.

“Ready?” Marcella asked.

“I’ve been ready since the moment he stood up for me in that corridor.”

The crystal chimes tinkled overhead as Alaysia took her first step down the aisle. Her heart pounded in her chest, but her steps remained steady. The gathered crowd faded away until only Dernin remained in focus at the altar.

Golden scales gleamed across his broad chest where ceremonial armor had been fitted. His tail coiled with restrained power, yet his hands trembled at his sides. When their eyes met, a small tear slipped down his cheek.

The sight nearly stole her breath. This fierce warrior who’d fought through brutal matches now crying at the sight of her. Heat bloomed in her chest, and her own vision blurred.

“You’re beautiful,” he mouthed silently.

A crystal hanging caught the light, sending rainbow fragments dancing across his scales. The effect transformed him from a warrior to something ethereal—a being of light and power who’d chosen her, a former slave who’d once been nothing more than a prize.

“I love you,” she whispered back, though the space between them was still too great for him to hear.

His smile widened as if he’d heard anyway. His tail swayed, betraying his eagerness to close the distance between them. The gesture was so endearingly him that Alaysia had to press her lips together to keep from grinning like a fool.

The aisle felt endless. Each step brought fresh details into focus—the way his ceremonial braids caught the light, how his chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, the tender vulnerability in his golden eyes that he showed to her alone.

This was real—this moment, this choice, this love, all of it real and freely given. No more chains. No more fighting rings. No more being displayed as a prize. Just her warrior, looking at her like she’d hung the moons themselves.

Alaysia reached the altar where Dernin waited. His tail curled around her protectively as the priest raised his hands.

“In the sacred tongue of our ancestors,” the priest intoned in Niri, the melodic language washing over her like water, “we bind these two souls as one.”

The ancient words floated through the chamber. Though Alaysia couldn’t understand them all, their power resonated in her chest. She caught fragments—“eternal bond,” “sacred union,” “two hearts joined.” Dernin’s hand found hers, his warm scales brushing against her palm.

“Speak your vows,” the priest said in common tongue.

Dernin’s golden eyes locked with hers. “Alaysia, my warrior heart recognized you from the moment I saw you. Not as something to be won, but as the other half of my soul. I vow to protect you, cherish you, and fight beside you until my last breath.”

Her throat tightened. They’d practiced the traditional responses, but looking into those eyes that had captivated her that first day in that corridor, different words spilled forth.

“Dernin, you saw me when I was invisible. Defended me when I was helpless. Loved me when I was afraid to love myself. I vow to stand with you, fight for you, and cherish every moment of freedom by your side.”

Another tear slipped down his cheek.

The priest spoke again in Niri, his voice rising and falling in the rhythmic cadence of the ancient blessing. Rainbow light danced across their joined hands as he wound a crystal-studded cord around their wrists.

“Two souls,” he said, “now bound as one.”

Alaysia’s heart swelled. The cord around their wrists sparkled—not a chain of slavery, but a bond freely chosen. She’d never felt more powerful, more whole, than in this moment with her warrior.

Dernin leaned down, his golden eyes blazing with an intensity that made Alaysia lose her breath. His warm palm cupped her cheek, his scales smooth against her skin. The tender gesture brought tears to her eyes—so different from the brutal fighting moves she’d first witnessed from him in the ring.

His lips met hers, gentle at first, like the brush of silk. He drew her closer as the kiss deepened. Heat bloomed in her chest as she pressed closer, her fingers sliding over the golden scales of his chest.

The crystal-studded cord around their joined wrists sparkled as rainbow light danced across them. The sacred walls seemed to pulse with energy, or maybe that was just her racing heart. Either way, Alaysia had never felt more alive, more cherished, than in this moment.

She barely registered the priest’s final blessing or the cheers from their gathered friends. All that existed was Dernin’s kiss, his protective embrace, and the knowledge that she’d never be a slave or a prize again. She was his equal, his mate.

When they finally broke apart, Dernin rested his forehead on hers. “I love you, my fierce mate.”

“And I love you, my warrior,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with joy.

Crystal lanterns cast their rainbow glow across the garden paths as Alaysia twirled in Dernin’s arms. The sweet scent of night-blooming flowers mingled with the spiced wine warming her blood. Her wedding gown sparkled with each movement, catching fragments of light like stars.

“To the happy couple!” Marcella raised her glass, her voice carrying across the gathered crowd.

“To freedom,” another former slave called out.

“To love,” added one of Dernin’s fellow warriors.

The cheers echoed through the crystal gardens. Alaysia’s heart swelled as she looked around at all the faces—humans and Naga alike, celebrating together as equals. No more masters, no more chains. Just friendship and joy.

“Dance with me again?” Dernin extended his hand to Alaysia.

“Always.”

He swept her into another dance, his movements fluid and graceful despite his warrior’s build. Here in the crystal gardens, with rainbow lights dancing across his golden scales, he moved like poetry.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice rumbled low, just for her ears.

“How different this is from where we met. How far we’ve come.”

“From prize fighter and slave to warrior and mate.” His hand tightened on her waist.

The music shifted to a traditional Niri melody, its haunting notes drifting through the garden. Around them, other couples joined the dance—Marcella with one of the warriors who’d helped free them, former slaves with their newfound loves.

Crystal wind chimes tinkled overhead, their delicate music mixing with laughter and conversation. Alaysia leaned her head against Dernin’s chest, breathing in his familiar scent. His heartbeat thrummed steady and strong beneath her cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“For seeing me. The real me. Even when I was just supposed to be a trophy.”

His tail tightened around her waist as he pressed a kiss to her hair. “I saw my mate. My warrior. My queen.”