The Mad Alpha's Chapter 122: As Ready as I’ll Ever Be

Chapter 122: As Ready as I’ll Ever Be

(MAYA)

The mirrors in the royal dressing chambers reflect a woman I barely recognize. My auburn hair has been intricately braided with silver threads and tiny moonstone beads that catch the light with each turn of my head. The dress, a creation of flowing silk in midnight blue, hugs my body before cascading to the floor in graceful waves.

Around my neck rests a delicate, silver pendant bearing the royal crest—Griffin’s gift, delivered this morning with a note that made

blush.

"Are you ready?" Corrine asks, adjusting the final fold of my dress with practiced hands. Her gown of deep burgundy complents her dark hair and olive skin.

"As ready as I’ll ever be," I reply, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the silk. "I still can’t believe this is happening."

Corrine smiles, squeezing my hand. "Believe it. In an hour, you’ll be the official queen of the Human Wolf Kingdom."

Queen. The title still feels foreign and ill-fitting. Three months ago, I was human, a scientist mourning her mother, drowning her sorrows in alcohol and isolation. Now I’m a shifter, a wolf, preparing to bond myself officially to the king before his entire kingdom.

Life takes the strangest turns.

A soft knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. "It’s ti," a voice calls.

Corrine gives

one last appraising look. "Perfect. Griffin won’t know what hit him."

I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves before following her into the corridor. Palace staff bows as we pass, their eyes following

with curiosity and, sowhat surprisingly, respect.

The antipathy I expected after Aria’s trial never materialized. If anything, my transformation has made

more acceptable to the shifter community, though I know so of the elders still grumble about my common origins.

The great hall has been decorated for the ceremony, its high ceilings draped with silver and blue banners bearing the royal crest. Moonlight streams through the stained-glass windows, supplenting the warm glow of thousands of candles. The room is packed with nobles from all three kingdoms, their jewels and finery glittering in the candlelight.

As I reach the entrance, I spot a familiar figure waiting in the shadows. "Jerry," I say, stepping toward him.

The healer looks tired, worn thin by grief despite his attempts to hide it. "You look beautiful, Maya," he says, his smile genuine despite the sadness in his eyes.

I take his hands in mine. "I’ve been wanting to tell you, I’m sorry about Cassian. Despite everything he did, he was still your family. I know that must hurt."

Surprise flickers across Jerry’s face, followed by gratitude. "Thank you. Few people understand that it’s possible to condemn what he did while still mourning who he could have been."

"You were a good role model to him," I say gently. "The choices he made weren’t your fault."

Jerry squeezes my hands. "That ans more than you know." He straightens up, composing himself. "Now, go. Your mate is waiting, and he’s not a patient man when it cos to you."

Music swells from within the hall, a haunting lody played on instrunts I can’t identify. My cue. Corrine takes her place ahead of

and, after a reassuring smile over her shoulder at , begins her processional walk.

Then it’s my turn.

The sea of faces turns as I enter, hundreds of eyes following my progress down the long aisle. I focus on the figure waiting at the far end: Griffin, resplendent in formal, midnight blue attire that matches my gown, his silver hair gleaming in the candlelight. The sight of him steadies , grounds

in a way nothing else can.

Our bond hums with shared anticipation as I approach. His eyes never leave mine, their amber depths filled with an emotion too profound for words. When I reach him, he takes my hand, his thumb brushing across my knuckles in a gesture both intimate and reassuring.

"You’re breathtaking," he murmurs, his voice just for .

"You’re not so bad yourself," I whisper back, and I am rewarded with the hint of a smile.

Elder Blackwood steps forward, her ancient face solemn as she begins the ceremony. The words wash over , formal and ritualistic, speaking of bonds that transcend ti, of souls connected by forces beyond understanding. Griffin and I exchange the traditional vows, our voices clear in the hushed hall.

When it cos ti for the final bonding, the reinforcent of our mating marks before witnesses, Griffin’s hand is steady as it brushes my hair aside, exposing the mark he placed on

that terrible day in the cabin. His lips press against it, and a shiver runs through

as the bond between us flares blindingly bright. I return the gesture, my teeth, sharper now since my transformation, grazing the matching mark I have already put on him.

Energy pulses between us, stronger than before and deeper. The hall erupts in cheers and howls of approval as Elder Blackwood pronounces us officially mated, king and queen bound by ancient magic and modern love.

Griffin’s kiss is restrained, given our audience, but the promise in his eyes makes my heart race. Later, I know. Later, we will celebrate privately.

The formalities conclude, giving way to feasting and dancing. Tables groan under the weight of elaborate dishes, wine flows freely, and music fills the hall as nobles and servants alike join in the celebration.

Griffin leads

in the first dance, his movents graceful despite his imposing size. "Happy?" he asks as we circle the floor.

"Deliriously," I admit. "Though I still feel like I’m going to wake up and find this was all a dream."

His hand tightens around my waist. "It’s not a dream. I am very real, as are you."

"A wolf shifter scientist queen," I muse. "Not exactly what I planned for my life."

"Plans change," he says, his eyes twinkling. "Sotis for the better."

"Definitely for the better," I agree, leaning closer. "Though I’m not sure everyone agrees. Elder Monroe looks like he swallowed sothing sour."

Griffin chuckles, the sound rumbling pleasantly in his chest. "He’ll adapt. They all will." "And if they don’t?"

"Then, they’ll answer to ," he says simply.

The dance ends, and others crowd around to offer congratulations. Locke and Corrine are among the first, their son Finn bounding up to hug

with childish enthusiasm.

"Does this an you’re staying forever?" he asks, his young face earnest. I ruffle his hair. "It does, little wolf. You’re stuck with

now."

"Good," he declares with a child’s certainty. "You make the best cookies."

Corrine laughs, pulling her son back to her. "And that’s clearly the most important quality in a queen," she teases.

The evening continues in a whirl of dancing, toasting, and tradition. Through it all, I’m aware of Griffin’s eyes following , our bond a constant presence linking us across the crowded hall.

When I finally return to his side, breathless from a particularly energetic dance with Corrine, he hands

a glass of chilled wine. "Having fun?" he asks, his voice warm with amusent.

"More than I expected," I admit, sipping gratefully. "Though I think I’ve heard enough about ’proper queenly behavior’ from various noble ladies to last a lifeti."

"Ignore them," Griffin advises. "You’ve already proven yourself more worthy than any of them."

"By nearly dying and turning into a wolf?" I tease.

"By saving our kind when you had every reason to let us suffer," he says seriously. "By being brave enough to forgive

when I gave you no reason to."

I touch his face gently. "You gave

plenty of reasons. I was just too hurt to see them at first."

His eyes darken with rembered pain. "I still wake up sotis thinking that you’re gone. That I lost you in that cabin."

"I’m right here," I assure him. "And I’m not going anywhere."

"Promise?" he asks, and in that mont, he isn’t a powerful king but simply a man who has lost too much, who fears losing more.

"Promise," I whisper, sealing it with a kiss that draws appreciative whistles from nearby guests. Griffin grins against my lips. "We’re causing a scandal."

"Good," I reply. "They should get used to it."