Phoebe Johnson is the daughter of the Moon Goddess Artemis, and has a human father. Living on Earth as a Demi-Goddess surrounded by humans and werewolves isn't as exciting as it seems. No one is allowed to know of her true parentage, and everyone th...
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Seven Years later...
Sometimes I wonder how my life would've turned out if I had dug my heels in and never went to Lupine Peak. I don't doubt that I eventually could have changed my dads mind; I can be pretty stubborn at times. It's scary to think about how different my life would be – I wouldn't have met my soulmate, Alex, found loyal friends ready to sacrifice their lives for me, and definitely wouldn't be preparing to be crowned Queen, alongside my Alex, who is also now my husband. We decided on a small ceremony a year after we mated, (mostly just for show for my dad and other human family) at one of Alex's private Islands, this one located in the Maldives. It was absolutely beautiful, and a memory I will never forget. After a few days there, we went to Bora Bora for an Instagram worthy honeymoon, where our backyard was waves of royal blue, soft and gentle, just begging to be swam in. After our few weeks in paradise, we returned to Russia as a united force, ready to begin my Queenly training.
All of the blood, sweat and tears has led to today.
Our coronation.
I have spent so much time waiting for this moment it almost feels surreal. In just a couple of hours' time, I will no longer be Phoebe Kensington-Wield, but Queen Luna Phoebe the First, ruler of the Lycanthrope Throne. I am pretty nervous, but I know I'll be fine as long as I have my Alex besides me always. Who am I kidding? He is needier then I am! If we are apart for more then a couple of hours, I start to feel his anxiousness pacing through our bond, eager to get back to me.
"Ow!" I squeal as one of my maids, Arabella, brushes through my hair a little too harshly.
"I'm so sorry miss!" She squeaks, looking like a timid little mouse. She is only young, and always has a nervous look on her face as if she's worried I'm going to eat her or something!
"It's ok Arabella, no worries. How long until we're done Petunia?" I ask my head maid, a very tall and sophisticated woman who has been serving the throne since she was a child.
"No more then 20 minutes your highness; we are right on schedule." Petunia explains with an efficient nod.
Arabella and Nora (two of my personal maids – I have four in total) woke me up at just 4:30 this morning, as apparently I had to have the equivalent of a full spa treatment to get ready for my coronation at eleven. It is happening in an ancient church Alex's great granddad had erected for ceremonies such as this. My dress is absolutely stunning, made of the finest golden silk, with white flowers embroidered into the bottom of the gown reaching upwards, and the most luxury pearls and diamonds sewn in between. The bodice is taut around my curves with a square neckline, and the sleeves are puffed, with a dainty bow on each end, then frilled lace hangs down underneath, framing my pale arms. A heart shaped twinkling diamond sits in the middle of my chest, demanding attention. Swirls of white lace wisp out from the lavish diamond, moon shaped pearls interwoven in the design, simply screaming money. As the gown floats out femininely from my waist, it collects into a long train dragging from the back of my feet, making me feel like the Queen I am. An aureate cloak drips from my shoulders into an impressive train, lined with the softest snow fur. It is certainly the most breath-taking, expensive gown I have ever had to honour to wear. My hair is in a low messy bun, with a few strands framing my face, and my makeup has been done natural yet glowy, for an ethereal look.
