Page 28 of The Alpha's Crimson Vow (Eternal Oath Saga #2)

Katherine

Months Later

The wind is gentle this evening, carrying the scent of roses and something richer—something regal. I sit on the lavish balcony of the palace, my fingers idly stroking the silk of my robe as my eyes drift over the sprawling compound below. Everything about this place is magnificent. The lush, perfectly manicured grass stretches like an emerald sea, interrupted only by striking marble statues—each one carved with exquisite precision. Wolves frozen in time, their eyes fierce, their postures commanding. Even in stillness, they radiate power.

I’m wealthy—always have been—but this? This is different. This is the kind of wealth that shakes the ground beneath your feet, that makes men bow without needing to be asked. It still takes some getting used to, even after months of living here.

A soft coo pulls me from my thoughts. I glance down, and the sight of him makes my heart clench in the most beautiful way.

Damien. My son.

My baby.

His big, curious eyes stare up at me, the color just like Alex’s. And his hair— thick, and already a little unruly—another perfect mirror of his father. I exhale a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the sheer force of love I feel for him. It’s all consuming. This tiny human, cradled in my arms, is everything I’ve ever wanted. The embodiment of a dream I’ve carried since I was a little girl. I always knew I wanted to be a mother, but I never imagined it would feel like this. Like the world could fall apart around me, and I wouldn’t care as long as I had him.

“You’re getting so big,” I murmur, brushing a fingertip over his impossibly soft cheek. He makes a sound, something between a giggle and a sigh, and it fills me with a warmth so intense I feel it in my bones.

I press a kiss to his forehead. “I love you so much, sweetheart. More than anything.”

He babbles in response, a string of nonsensical sounds, and I laugh.

“You agree, huh?” I tease, bouncing him lightly in my arms.

Another giggle. My whole heart melts. And then, my mind drifts back. Back to the day he was born.

The memory hits me like a wave, vivid and unrelenting. The pain. The sheer, mind shattering agony. It wasn’t just unbearable—it was lethal. The kind of pain that threatened to rip me apart from the inside out. I remember gripping the sheets, my body drenched in sweat, every muscle in me screaming for relief that wouldn’t come. I had known giving birth to a shifter would hurt, but nothing could have prepared me for how intense it was. It felt like my body was breaking, like something inside me was being shattered beyond repair.

And then there was Alex. I remember the way he held my hand, his grip ironclad, his forehead damp with sweat even though he wasn’t the one in labor. I remember Alice’s voice, firm yet reassuring, telling us to share the pain through the mate bond. To shoulder it together.

So we did.

I let him in, let him take some of the unbearable weight, and the second it happened, I saw the way his whole body tensed, his jaw going rigid, his breath hitching like he’d been punched in the gut. He felt it. My pain. He took it without hesitation, without a single complaint.

“Stay with me,” I had choked out, my nails digging into his skin.

His gaze had locked onto mine, fierce and unwavering. “Always.”

And he did. He stayed with me through every agonizing second, taking it all alongside me. I saw it in his eyes—the struggle, the strain, the sheer effort of enduring it. He would have taken all of it if he could have. Without question. Without regret.

That’s the kind of man he is. That’s the kind of father Damien has.

I smile to myself as I stroke Damien’s tiny fingers.

“You have no idea how much your daddy loves you,” I whisper. “One day, you’ll understand.”

He gurgles in response, utterly content, and my heart swells.

Then, a voice cuts through the quiet.

“Your Majesty.”

I don’t react at first. Not because I didn’t hear it, but because, for a moment, I forget that I am the one being addressed.

“Your Majesty,” the voice calls again, a little firmer this time.

I blink, lifting my gaze from my son, and finally turn. A young maiden stands at the entrance of the balcony, her hands clasped in front of her, posture perfectly poised. She lowers her head slightly in deference before speaking.

“The guests in the hall are waiting to be graced by your presence.”

I smile. “Thank you.”

She bows and steps aside, waiting for me to follow.

Your Majesty.

Even now, the title feels foreign, like a fine cloak that hasn’t quite molded to my frame. Wearing it still requires adjustment, the weight of it settling on my shoulders in ways I never expected. Being queen of any kingdom is a monumental change—but being queen of a wolf kingdom? That is something else entirely.

Alex has been my anchor, guiding me through this new life with unwavering support. He’s helped me ease into the role as much as he can, ensuring I’m never overwhelmed. I’m grateful that I’m not burdened with too many official royal duties—at least, not yet. But when the time comes, I know I’ll be ready to take up the challenge of building this kingdom with Alex. .

My heart blooms as I think about how he has been steadfast in his support of me—not just as his queen, but as the woman I was before all of this. He encourages me to continue my career, never asking me to sacrifice the parts of myself that existed long before a crown was placed on my head.

For that, I am endlessly grateful.

I rise from my seat and kiss the top of Damien’s head before allowing the maid to take him for a moment. Another maiden hurries forward, ready to escort me inside to prepare.

As I step into my chambers, the room is already alive with movement. Maids flutter about like butterflies, each one tending to a specific task with meticulous precision.

“My Queen,” one of them murmurs, stepping forward with a soft brush, immediately setting to work on my hair. Another smooths out my gown, while two more carefully tend to Damien, making sure he is comfortable and content.

The entire process is fluid, seamless, a well-rehearsed ritual that I have not yet grown used to. I watch in the mirror as delicate hands weave through my locks, brushing and styling with expert care. The dress they slip over my frame is a masterpiece—deep blue silk, embroidered with golden threads that glimmer like captured stardust. A gown fit for a queen.

By the time they finish, I look every bit the royal I am meant to be.

Damien is placed back in my arms, wrapped in fine, soft linens, his little body warm against mine.

One of the maids steps forward. “Shall we, Your Majesty?”

I inhale deeply, steadying myself. Then, with a nod, I step forward.

The corridors are lined with people, courtiers, and noblemen who bow their heads as I pass. The doors to the grand hall loom ahead, standing tall and imposing. Two guards step forward, their movements precise as they push them open.

A voice echoes through the chamber.

“Announcing the arrival of Queen Katherine.”

The moment I step inside, a warm joy blooms in my chest. The hall is breathtaking—chandeliers gleaming overhead, their crystals casting soft reflections over the grand space. The décor is nothing short of spectacular, rich silks and golden embellishments adorning every surface. It is a celebration—a grand, extravagant affair in honor of our son, the prince and heir to the throne.

Damien stirs in my arms, his tiny fingers grasping the air as if he, too, can feel the energy in the room. I press a kiss to his forehead before making my way to the throne at the front of the hall.

I take my seat, holding my son close as the room fills with quiet anticipation.

Then, the doors open once more.

“Announcing the arrival of King Alex.”

Alex steps forward with the confidence of a man who was born to lead, his presence commanding yet effortlessly charismatic. He wears a knowing smile, his eyes locking onto mine as he makes his way toward us. When he reaches me, he leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips before turning his attention to our son.

“Hey there, little man,” he murmurs, reaching out and taking Damien into his arms with practiced ease. The sight of them together, father and son, makes my heart swell in a way I can’t even put into words.

He lifts his head, addressing the room. “Tonight, we celebrate. We welcome the prince and heir of our kingdom.” His voice is strong, unwavering. “Let the ball begin.”

The hall erupts in applause, and the festivities commence.

The music swells, couples take to the dance floor, and laughter and conversation fill the space. Alex and I move through the crowd, greeting nobles and esteemed guests, exchanging pleasantries as we bask in the joy of the evening.

Time seems to fly by as the festivities continue. Alex is off greeting some guests from the royal army, and I find myself engaged in a conversation with a group of distinguished businessmen—new partners of Pinnacle Group. These are men Alex introduced me to, all of them wolf shifters themselves, powerful figures who have played a significant role in ensuring my company’s smooth transition into Europe.

One of them, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and an expensive suit, smiles as he speaks. “Pinnacle Group is becoming quite the name here in Europe, Your Majesty. Your expansion has been nothing short of remarkable.”

I return his smile, shifting Damien slightly in my arms. “That means a lot coming from you,” I say. “It’s been an incredible journey. Having our headquarters in Europe now—it’s more than just business. It means I can be here, close to my family. Close to the kingdom.”

Another partner, a sharp-eyed woman with a strong handshake, nods approvingly. “You’ve balanced both worlds seamlessly—business and royalty. Not many could do that.”

Just then, warmth envelops me from behind. Strong arms wrap around my waist, and a familiar presence presses into me. Before I can even react, soft lips brush against the side of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

Alex’s voice is smooth, teasing. “Pardon me,” he says to my companions. “I need to steal my wife for a moment.”

The guests bow immediately, smiling as they take their leave. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

As they walk away, I tilt my head, glancing up at Alex with amusement.

“Stealing me away, are you?” I murmur.

He grins, his eyes glinting with mischief as he reaches out to tickle Damien’s belly. Our son lets out a soft giggle, squirming in my arms, and Alex chuckles, his expression tender.

Then, he leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “That dress you’re in…” His voice drops lower, husky. “It makes me want to peel it off you.”

My breath hitches. A delicious thrill runs through me, settling low in my stomach.

I turn my head slightly, meeting his gaze, and there’s that spark again, that perfect feeling that has always existed between us.

This is my life. My kingdom. My child. My mate.

This is my happily ever after.

And it’s perfect.