Chapter 51

Violet’s POV

We’d made it to the waiting area just outside of the hall and behind some curtains so that none of the guests would see me when I heard Theodore’s voice. The soft murmur of everyone inside came to an abrupt halt, and I straightened in my spine, leaning to hear what was going on. A knot of unease twisted in my stomach. Why would Theodore call a halt to things?

I looked over at Kincaid and Lily. Lily stepped out to go see what was going on. I waited a few moments before Lily came back.

“There’s been a delay.” She shrugged. “Theodore called for it, apparently there’s something going on at the altar… something about the priest I think…. Though you’ll be happy to know that His Majesty and his family look oddly happy.”

I went still. Happy, hm? I glanced at Helena who pursed her lips. We’d talked about my suspicions about Owen. I hadn’t gotten to talk to Lily about it yet, but Kincaid knew. Switching out the priest was an easy way to undermine the ceremony. Of course none of this could be as easy as just putting on a dress and getting married, could it?

I turned over the situation in my mind. How much time could Theodore stall for until we could get a proper priest?

“You have my phone?”

Kincaid offered it to me and I scrolled through my contacts to the one I didn’t think I’d be contacting in this sort of situation. The line buzzed twice before a voice answered.

“I assume you’re calling about the priest,” the voice said dryly, without any greeting.

I blinked, surprised. “You’re here already?”

“Yes, of course. If it’s any consolation, we both are.”

I chuckled. “I’m… awaiting the signal to walk in behind the curtains if you’d like to join us.”

I hung up, grinning and handing my phone back to Kincaid. He cocked an eyebrow.

“You should get ready for a surprise.”

he cocked an eye on Brown and turned as the curtains parted his jaw dropped open and a grin took over his face.

“Thank you so much for coming.”

Theodore

I wish I didn't have to say it. I wish that it wasn't like this. But Owen was going to test my patience to the very end.

I turned to the event coordinator, my voice low and sharp. “Pause everything.”

She hesitated, her eyes wide.

“Now,” I commanded, the edge in my tone brooking no argument.

The music that had been softly playing cut off, and the murmurs of the crowd quieted as confusion spread. My eyes stayed locked on Owen, who had the audacity to look smug as he leaned back in his chair. His wife beside him was perfectly composed, and his mother was watching me with that familiar look of quiet disgust that she reserved just for me. I'm wondered if she had put him up to this or if this was just Owen’s plot. It was dumb, no matter how you sliced it.

Tyron stepped closer, his voice low. “What’s going on?”

“Family disputes,” I muttered.

He followed my gaze, his expression darkening. “ I'm on your side with this.”

I chuckled. “I didn't realize that we had reached that stage of our relationship.”

“We shared a drink, you little brat. We're basically family now.”

I did my best not to let the way his words affected me show my face, but my chest felt tight with a longing I didn’t realize I’d ever felt. Growing up in the palace, submit that everyone, aside from my mother, was either an agent of my father or an agent of his wife’s.

Family hadn’t ever meant much of anything if it hadn’t been my mother. More importantly, I knew what family meant to Tyron. It meant going to war for someone. It meant standing against oppression for someone. It meant laying down your life for some one… He would never use that term lightly.

I shook my head, my jaw tightening. “Don’t sound so serious. I’m sure there won't be need for that…”

“Interferring with your mate ceremony?” Tyron asked, his voice rough. “Men have been slaughtered for less.”

My lips twitched. I wondered what Owen would think when he realized that Tyron had all but offered to kill him for fucking with my wedding. I pushed that thought aside. I needed to know who this guy was and I needed time to replace him before the ceremony started. There was no need to cause a scene. At least I hope there wasn't.

The easiest thing to do would be to stall.

“I didn't expect you all to come…” I said, addressing Owen and his little family. “Don't you think you should be sitting in my family section?”

The air in the garden shifted, thick with tension. Everyone seemed tense. My eyes stayed locked on Owen. He looked deeply uncomfortable. Then I glanced at the man in robes standing at the altar. He carried himself well enough to fool most but not me. Something about him rang false. He wasn’t a real priest—of that much, I was certain.

“And you aren't the priest I asked for. Is he running late?”

“I provided for this priest,” Owen said. “And I'm a very busy man, so let's continue on with the ceremony as planned. I have things to do.”

Owen’s command rang out, overruling the pause I’d requested. People murmured about it. My fists tightened at my sides. His eyes were laughing. He was enjoying this—forcing control of my pack’s moment and turning it into a power play. I could call him out, but that would definitely make this more about him and our issues rather than about me and Violet, and that's not something I wanted to do. The crowd stirred. Lily darted through the crowd towards the band and whispered to the conductor. They exchanged words before the conductor nodded and stuck up a song. It wasn’t the bridal procession but the temple chant. Owen’s smug smile faltered. He frowned.

There wasn't enough time to figure out what else I could do without causing more trouble or drawing attention to the obvious tension between us. I didn’t need to fuel any more rumors about my relationship with Owen…

Then, the doors opened.

I couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath as I turned to look, but it wasn’t Violet I saw first, not even Kincaid.

I didn’t recognize either of them. The man was older, with stark white hair, robes that radiated a quiet but commanding power, and a walking staff carved with intricate symbols. At his side was a woman dressed differently but no less impressively. Her robes were crimson and gold, intricate patterns running down the sleeves and hem. It made me think of a gown my mother owned and hid in the back of her closet.

She had to be from beyond the border, but why was she here? How did she know to come? Was this Violet’s doing?

The murmurs started almost immediately, the audience unsure whether to bow or ask questions. I stayed rooted to the spot, watching Owen and Lucas from the corner of my eye. Both of them had gone pale, their smugness replaced by barely masked rage.

I looked at Dahlia who smiled and leaned close.

“That’s the High Priest,” she murmured, her tone laced with awe.

“The High Priest?” I repeated under my breath. That explained the man, but my gaze flicked to the woman. “And her?”

Dalia shook her head. “I don’t know, but judging by the robes, she’s from a temple too. Higher-ranking, maybe.”

The High Priest turned to me, his eyes piercing but kind. “Alpha Theodore, shall we begin?”

For a second, I couldn’t respond, too caught between awe and disbelief. But then my instincts kicked in, and I nodded.

“Yes, of course. Let’s begin.”

Soon, the music changed, and Charlotte came up the aisle, dutifully throwing flowers over the walkway with her partner, carrying the rings on a small satin pillow.

The two parted to either side of the altar. The little boy offered the little pillow to the High Priest who took it with a paternal smile and placed it on the altar. The little boy walked toward his parents who lifted him up into his father’s lap and squeezed him close.

Then, the music changed again.

Violet stepped through, commanding every gaze in the room. Her gown shimmered in the sunlight, the delicate silver embroidery catching the light with every movement. Her head was high, her expression one of cool authority, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe. Kincaid and Lily trailed behind her. Kincaid, his eyes scanning the crowd like a hawk. His face was stern as they walked.

When they reached the altar, the High Priest placed a hand on my shoulder, his calm gaze sweeping the gathered crowd.

“This ceremony shall proceed,” he said, his voice carrying a weight that silenced everyone instantly. “Properly and without interference.”