Broken Queen: The Finale

ARIEL

“Amy!” I can’t help but cheer when I spot my friend behind us, scrambling to my feet and yanking her into a quick hug. She laughs, returning it eagerly before I move on to Angel and repeat the gesture.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re escorts obviously,” Amy says cheekily, waving to the group of wolves behind her. We get a few nervous waves from the group, who I realize have come in from the opposite entrance.

Helena is already scurrying over with a clipboard in hand.

“How long have you been waiting to make that pun?” Alex asks dryly, and I giggle.

Angel sighs. “Way too long.”

“It’s great to see you guys again—and thanks for bringing your members for the picnic.” Alex embraces Angel before moving to Amy as well. My best friend is practically vibrating with excitement, beaming at us both.

“Of course, we came!” Amy almost sounds affronted for a moment, hands going to her hips once Alex releases her.

“I’ve been badgering Angel about coming since you first announced it.” The man in question looks at her with soft eyes, not at all looking “badgered” by his mate.

“Excuse me,” Helena breaks in, hurriedly greeting everyone before waving her clipboard. “I need to make sure everyone is on the list—and Alex, we need you to hit pause on your weekend and do the opening speech now that the Spanish Royals are here.”

I go to ask if I should join him, but Alex waves me off with a smile, shaking his head.

“Have fun and catch up. I’ll be right back.”

Amy links her arm with mine, waggling her brows as she tugs me away from the small blanket we’d set up to eat.

“Your dress is beautiful, but how are you not burning up in it?” she asks conspiratorially, and I laugh outright.

It did look like one of the heavier dresses in my arsenal with all its lace and beading, but thankfully it was actually a breezy fabric. She seems fascinated when I say as much, pinching the hip of it and rolling it between her fingers.

“I need to know who made it.” Her brows are drawn together, and I hope I haven’t offended her. I know I asked before about having her in charge of my formalwear, but wearing this dress didn’t seem like a bad idea when Maria presented it to me this morning.

“I’ll ask Maria when we see her,” I promise, and Amy smiles.

“Anyway, it’s gorgeous.”

“And comfortable,” I admit, and she bumps our shoulders together.

We watch as Alex makes his speech, scanning the area out of habit. Security is doing a fine job of patrolling the small park, walking the perimeter religiously, but old habits die hard.

“So, the Spanish Royal Pack?” Amy gives me a look, and I grin.

“We invited just about everyone.” I shrug, and she rolls her eyes.

“Okay, but your former fated mate? I knew you guys were allies or whatever, but—”

“Goddess, don’t remind me.” The whole fiasco was still migraine-inducing, even all this time later.

“Anyway, I was hoping that we would end up making more bonds between our packs.” And not just for political purposes, though that was at the forefront of my mind when I suggested it.

With us spreading ourselves so thin trying to help the Crescent Moon Pack, it felt like a good idea to start making more friends—officially. Any potential usurpers would think twice, knowing that the two Royal Packs were tightly knit.

Not that I thought we had anything to worry about, but what’s the saying?

Play chess, not checkers.

***

ALEX

I keep the speech short and sweet, grinning out over the surprisingly large gathering before making my way offstage.

Maria is waiting, smiling ear to ear, and I hug my mother with a soft huff of amusement.

“You’re late?” It comes out as a question when I take her in, looking for a reason why.

“A lady is never late,” she counters, head tilting imperiously as we make our way across the grass toward my mate.

“Sure,” I drawl, dropping it.

My mother is perfectly put together, as usual, radiating happiness in a way I haven’t seen since my father’s passing.

The thought of him makes my chest ache, and I try not to let myself be swallowed by the bolt of grief that always follows his memory.

“I knew that dress would suit her,” she murmurs as we walk, and I glance up to take in Ariel again.

My mate is always beautiful to me, but I can’t deny my mother is right. The dress fits her like a glove, and I have to shake off the desire to lead her off to really show her how much I appreciate it.

“You chose well,” my mother continues, and we both pause, just watching Ariel and Amy, whispering to one another with smiles. “She suits you.”

“I know,” I respond, and she laughs softly before we walk on, more than happy to interrupt their snickering discussion.

“Good speech,” Ariel immediately compliments, and I scoff.

“Did you even really listen to it?” An almost guilty look crosses her face before she breaks into another grin, and I tug her into my arms. It’s hard to keep my hands off her lately—harder than usual, anyway.

“Of course, I did!” She feigns offense, then turns to Amy. “Didn’t we?”

Amy nods solemnly.

“We definitely did not start gossiping about where she got such a stunning dress and miss the whole thing.”

“Amy!”

I laugh as my mother hides her grin behind a hand, shaking her head at their antics.

“It was a gift from a designer I worked with before,” Maria reveals, and Amy looks at her with stars in her eyes.

Amy pounces, wheedling my mother for details as Angel makes his way back over. He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side, and she returns the gesture on instinct.

“We should make the rounds,” Ariel says, sounding almost forlorn as we look at all the people eyeing us. The event is primarily for people to find partners, but they also expect us to make small talk with all the “big players” any time we appear in public.

“We could do it at the end?” I suggest, and she scoffs.

“And risk offending some bigwig because we missed them? Absolutely not. We get enough bad press as it is.”

I grimace at the memory of how she’d nearly been eaten alive last time. No, we definitely didn’t want to repeat that nonsense.

“Fine, fine.” Relenting, I decide we can at least start somewhere pleasant when I spot Matteo and his mate.

“We’ll start there.” Ariel follows my line of sight and is visibly thrilled at the idea as she tugs me through the crowd.

The Spanish Royals are clearly doing the same thing we’re doing, moving from person to person at a languid pace, and we give them a moment to wrap up their conversation with one of the local dignitaries before stepping forward.

I clear my throat, smirking when Matteo looks relieved and makes hurried goodbyes to the ones lingering around, also waiting their turn.

One of my favorite perks of being a royal is getting to jump the line.