Three Alphas, Three Mates

Mia x Aiden - Kingdom AU

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I nearly trip when I see him at the altar. I grip my father's arm, stumbling a little. I find myself mistaken. I must be. The closer I get to the altar, the more the king waiting for me looks like the messenger. I raise an eyebrow.

My mother smiles wide, looking proud of herself. My father does not share the sentiment.

When I make it to the front, silver eyes stare back at me. Ones so pure, so savage, so unrelenting, I thought them reserved only for the royal bloodline until I saw the messenger. "Hello...?"

He smirks as I move to stand beside him.

"This is how you reveal yourself?" I whisper. Moments before we are to be bound?

"I thought it romantic." He shrugs. "Was I mistaken?" From all of our encounters, I know that airy tone to mean he is teasing.

Right now, I do not wish to be teased.

I glance back at my family, and they give me knowing looks. The wretched lot. Damn them all. Megan looks particularly in good spirits.

I make it through the vows without confronting my soon-to-be. I make it to the kiss, but he hesitates before our lips connect. He turns so that he blocks the view of both our families, to their delight and misery. He whispers his question against my neck, "Have I angered my queen?"

I pull away quickly. I search for words, stammering besides myself. "Truly, you will if you do not remember protocol."

He takes my threat seriously. Calmly, gently, he moves his lips over mine. I do not hesitate to do the same. I am no fool. The man is easy on the eyes. He tastes of something soft, and savory, but spicy all at the same time. I find I wish to taste him forever.

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That mini boost of confidence leaves the moment we enter his bedchambers.

"Perhaps a drink?" He gestures towards a table of refreshments.

I avoid eye contact. I nod, at a loss for words. Is this happening?

I watch from the corner of my eyes as his strong arms grab the pitcher with ease, trickling the clear water into a fragile cup. I do not trust my shaking hands to take it. But I take it anyway, carrying the edge to my lips. He watches the whole thing intently, eyes burning. My heart stutters.

As I face the table, he moves behind me, running one daring finger along my bottom lip. "Beautiful."

I choke.

Coughing horrendously, I struggle to put the cup down. He guides it to the table, rubbing my back. "Are you quite alright?"

"Yes." My voice is raspy. I feel tears brimming my eyes.

"You're quite clumsy..." he starts.

I narrow my eyes. "Is that all you have to say?"

"No. I am also considering how many maids we will need to keep you alive." He doesn't keep the amusement from his face. "Choking on water. The new queen."

"You..." It seems I've done this to myself. I thought myself a good judge of character, but I have married a tyrant.

He sees the change in my mood. That must be what causes him to drop the smirk from his face and rub my back, like he's doing something far better than aggravating my corset. I give him a look, but I find I appreciate the gesture all the same. It is not quite comforting, but it is tender. I imagine his personality matches this.

We wait for the coughing to stop, and then we wait some more.

"What will it be like living here?" I look around his room, feeling his shoulder against mine. Just past the nearest window is the sight of an unforgiving winter. A battalion of soldiers bred, raised, and trained to protect their kingdom at a moment's notice—and now mine as well—is out there, hidden in the frost. Disguised amongst the trees and the shadows. They are the reason for our union.