Page 35 of Rescued by Four Alphas (Claimed by the Four Alphas #2)

"Right on schedule," I mutter, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

Today is our wedding day. The words still feel strange in my mind, both inevitable and impossible. Four men, one woman, and four babies. We are a family that defies every social norm yet feels right to us.

I pull on a robe over my pajama pants and make my way to the nursery.

Knox's cries grow louder as I approach, and I expect to find the night nurse tending to him.

Instead, Dahlia, in her worn cotton pajamas, looking exhausted, juggles Knox in one arm while attempting to prepare a bottle with her free hand.

"They're all fussy this morning," she explains before I can ask. "I sent Alicia to get clean onesies. Knox threw up on three already."

Behind her, Nova and Zane squirm in their cribs while Jaxon, remarkably, remains asleep. The carefully organized schedule I created for this morning already sits in tatters.

"You should sleep," I say, taking Knox from her arms. "The ceremony isn't for eight more hours, but you need rest."

She looks at me with dark circles under her eyes and offers a tired smile. "Tell that to your children. They seem to know something important is happening today."

I bounce Knox against my shoulder, his cries subsiding to unhappy whimpers. "My wedding present was supposed to be you sleeping until at least seven."

"Well, now you need a new present," she teases, testing the temperature of the formula on her wrist.

I take in the scene, and nothing about this resembles the traditional wedding morning I imagined when I was younger. It's even better.

The door opens, and Alicia returns with a stack of fresh onesies. "I'll take over now, Dr. Baldwin. You should try to rest before the big day."

"That's what I told her," I say.

Dahlia surrenders the bottle to Alicia. "Fine. But wake me if they need anything."

"We won't," I promise, guiding her toward the door. "Everything is under control."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Go to sleep, Dahlia.”

After ensuring Dahlia returns to bed, I head to my office to review the schedule once more. The guest list sits beside my computer - just fifteen names of only the people who matter most.

My phone rings, and the display shows the florist's number.

"Mr. Blackthorn," she says when I answer. "I wanted to confirm we have access to the garden at six."

"Yes. Security will meet you at the south entrance," I reply. "And remember, wildflowers only. Nothing formal."

"Of course," she assures me. "I have the specific varieties Dr. Baldwin requested."

After ending the call, I bring up the weather forecast and check it for the fourth time since midnight—clear skies, moderate temperature, perfect for an outdoor ceremony. At least something cooperates.

By noon, I stand in the garden, personally overseeing the final preparations. The stone altar Dahlia chose sits beneath the ancient oak tree, surrounded by wildflowers in blue and violet hues. Fairy lights twine through the branches, ready to create a magical canopy when the sun sets.

Only four rows of chairs face the altar - enough for our fifteen guests with room to spare. A small area to the side holds baby supplies: diapers, bottles, pacifiers, and comfortable seating for whoever needs to tend to our children during the ceremony.

"The flowers look perfect, sir," Oliver says, appearing silently at my side as he always does. "And security confirms the perimeter is secure."

"Thank you," I reply, noting the satisfied gleam in his eyes. Oliver takes tremendous pride in his work and today represents months of planning. "Any issues with the guests?"

"None. Dr. Vasquez arrived early to check on the babies. Miss Emily is already with the bride. The minister understands the... unique nature of the ceremony and seems quite progressive."

"Good." I adjust a vase of wildflowers that sits slightly off-center. "And the reception setup?"

"The terrace is ready. Simple but elegant, as requested." Oliver hesitates. "If I may say so, sir, this is quite different from your usual style."

I look at him, surprised by the personal observation. "What do you mean?"

"You typically prefer grandeur," he explains carefully. "The best of everything, in abundance. This is... restrained."

"It's what Dahlia wants," I say.

"Of course," Oliver nods, but his eyes hold a question.

I sigh. "When you've nearly lost everything that matters, grandeur loses its appeal."

"I understand, sir." He straightens his already impeccable tie. "Will you need anything else before you dress?"

"No. Thank you, Oliver."

He withdraws as silently as he appeared, leaving me alone in the garden.

The reality of today suddenly hits me with unexpected force.

In a few hours, we will stand before people who matter to us and declare our commitment.

No legal documents will recognize this union.

No government agency will file our marriage certificate.

Yet it feels more legitimate, more binding, than any official validation could provide.

"I didn't expect to find you nervous," Leo's voice startles me. He stands at the garden entrance, dressed in casual clothes, his formal suit for later hanging in a garment bag over his arm.

"I'm not nervous," I lie. "I'm ensuring everything meets our specifications."

Leo laughs. "Right. And that's why you've adjusted that same chair four times."

I step away from the offending furniture. "Everything needs to be perfect for her."

"Dahlia doesn't care if the chairs align perfectly," Leo says, walking toward me. "She cares that we're all here, healthy and together."

"I know," I admit. "But this is important. We are making it official, even if it's only among ourselves."

Leo places his garment bag on a nearby bench. "That's what makes you nervous, isn't it?”

I remain silent, unwilling to voice the vulnerability I feel.

"It's the same for all of us," Leo continues. "This makes it undeniably real. There's no going back."

"I never wanted to go back," I say firmly.

"Neither did I." He places a hand on my shoulder. "But there's something about saying the words aloud, with witnesses, that changes things."

I nod, relieved he understands without requiring me to explain. "Have you seen Dahlia?"

"Emily arrived early and barricaded them in the east wing master suite. She gave strict instructions that none of us is allowed to see her until the ceremony."

"And the babies?"

"With Axl and Onyx. They've converted the library into temporary nursery headquarters." Leo grins.

This makes me laugh. "Did Onyx remember the shoes Emily insisted on?"

"All four tiny pairs are ready," Leo confirms. "Though Onyx argues they're pointless since none of the babies can walk."

I check my watch. "We should dress soon. The photographer arrives at four."

"Relax, Evan," Leo says. "We have time."

I take one final look in the mirror, and the man who stares back bears little resemblance to the person I was before Dahlia entered my life. I recognize the same features, the same blue eyes and perfect posture, but something fundamental has changed.

I exit the dressing room and make my way through the house to the garden.

Everything bathes in golden light, and the fairy lights in the oak tree twinkle as if in anticipation.

Our small group of guests mingles near their seats, creating an atmosphere more reminiscent of a family gathering than a wedding ceremony.

My attention shifts as Leo, Axl, and Onyx emerge from the house. Onyx opted for a vest rather than a jacket, Axl's suit incorporates subtle edgy details, and Leo chose classic lines with a modern cut.

"The babies are with Emily," Axl informs me. "Fair warning, Jaxon spit up on my first shirt."

"Better yours than mine," Onyx replies, laughing.

"Is Dahlia ready?" I ask.

Leo nods. "Emily says five more minutes."

The minister is a woman with kind eyes and an open smile. "Shall we begin soon?"

"Yes," I confirm. "Thank you for accommodating our unconventional ceremony."

"Love comes in many forms," she responds. "It's my privilege to celebrate yours."

She moves to the altar. I signal the string quartet, and they begin a gentle melody. Our guests take their seats, and the four of us position ourselves beneath the ancient oak. The garden falls quiet except for the music and distant birdsong.

Then the terrace doors open, and my heart stops.

Dahlia stands framed in the doorway, radiant in a simple white dress that flows around her. Her curls frame her face, adorned only with small wildflowers rather than an elaborate veil.

She walks alone down the garden path, just as she wanted.

When we discussed the ceremony, she'd been firm about this choice.

"My parents died when I was twelve," she'd explained quietly.

"I've been walking my own path ever since.

I don't need anyone to give me away—I'm choosing to give myself to you. "

The memory of those words makes my chest tighten with emotion. She's always been fiercely independent, even in the most traditional moments. It's one of the countless reasons I fell in love with her.

When she reaches us, the sun catches the golden highlights in her hair, and I remember the first time I saw her with storms in her eyes as she refused to back down from an argument with me. How far we have traveled from that day.

"Hi," she says, her voice bright with emotion.

"You look beautiful," I reply.

"Dearly beloved," the minister begins. "We gather here today to celebrate the union of these five souls, already connected by love, now choosing to formalize their commitment before friends who have become family."

Knox lets out a sudden cry, and one of our security team members smothers a laugh. Rather than disrupting the ceremony, the baby noises integrate perfectly into the proceedings, a reminder of why we stand here today.

"This union, while unconventional by traditional standards, represents the purest form of family, one built on choice, commitment, and unwavering love," the minister continues.

"Today, these five individuals, along with their children, create their own tradition, and their own definition of marriage. "

She turns to us. "Who will speak first?"

We agreed I would begin our vows, though the order matters less than the sincerity behind our words. I take Dahlia's hands in mine and look into her eyes.

"Dahlia," I begin. "Before I met you, I measured success through acquisitions, achievements, and influence. You taught me that true wealth lies in connection. You challenged me, fought me, changed me. When I nearly lost you, I discovered what actually matters." I pause.

"I promise to respect your independence while protecting our family with everything I possess.

I promise to listen when you speak, and hear what remains unsaid.

I promise to support your work, your dreams, and your needs with the same dedication I once reserved only for my business pursuits.

Most importantly, I promise to love you, our children, and our family with everything I am for all my days. "

Tears fill Dahlia's eyes, but her smile remains radiant. Leo steps forward next, his expression solemn as he takes her hands.

"Dahlia," he says, "when we first met, I tried to maintain my distance from you, and I failed spectacularly. You broke through every defense with your brilliance, your resilience, and your heart. I fell in love with you not just for who you are, but for who you help me become."

"I promise to be your calm in trouble, your support in challenge, your partner in joy.

I promise to stand beside you, not in front of you, as we raise our children and build our lives together.

I promise to protect you without confining you to love, without possessing you, and to cherish every moment we create together. "

Axl takes his place next.

"Dahlia," he starts, then clears his throat. "I used to live for the spotlight, for the crowd's energy, and for the next rush. Then you happened, and suddenly no applause could match the sound of your laugh. No sold-out arena could compete with a moment in your presence."

He squeezes her hands. "I promise to bring joy into our family every day. I promise to embrace the chaos of parenting with the same enthusiasm I bring to the stage. I promise to show our children how to live passionately. And I promise to love you through every bridge of our life together."

Finally, Onyx steps forward, and he takes Dahlia's hands from Axl.

"Dahlia," he says, his deep voice unusually soft. "My life before you consisted of just my strength and power. You gave me a reason to be more than just the strongest in the room. You challenged me to use my strength to protect rather than dominate, to build rather than destroy."

"I promise to be your shield against anything that threatens our family. I promise to channel my strength into building the home our children deserve. I promise to show our sons and daughter what true masculinity means. And I promise to love you, fiercely and completely, until my final breath."

Now it's Dahlia's turn. She looks at each of us in turn, her face luminous with love.

"Evan, Leo, Axl, Onyx," she begins, "You found me when I was lost, saved me when I was broken, loved me when I felt unlovable. Each of you brings something unique to our family, something essential that makes us complete."

“I promise to respect what makes each of you unique while celebrating what binds us together.

I promise to create a home where our children learn that love knows no boundaries or limitations.

I promise to fight for our family against any obstacle, any prejudice, any threat.

And I promise to love each of you, completely and equally, for all my days. "

The minister smiles. "May I have the rings?"

Emily steps forward with a custom-made diamond band for Dahlia and one for each of us.

We wear our rings, and the minister continues.

"By the power of love that binds you, and in the presence of those who support you, I now pronounce you a family, united in marriage of the heart if not of law. You may seal your commitment with a kiss."

Our small gathering bursts into applause after Dahlia kisses each of us.

"I present to you," the minister announces, "Dahlia, Evan, Leo, Axl, and Onyx, united in marriage."