An Alpha's Vixen: The Finale

Myra

A fragrant cloud of lace and organza hovered over Myra's head briefly as Megan pinned the final flourishes of the veil into Myra's curls. A splash of apricot and apple perfume followed to finish.

Megan stepped back, admiring her handiwork. Myra turned to look at herself in the mirror.

"Wait!" Myrielle stepped up behind her and tucked a tiny abalone shell pin into the side of the braid that gathered Myra's wild hair into a windswept half-updo.

Myra's eyes misted over as she looked at Myrielle.

Myrielle nodded. "That was Mom's."

Myra dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

"Stop!" Megan, this time armed with a make-up wipe. She leaned forward and kissed Myra lightly on the nose. "There."

Myra slowly took in her reflection in the baroque floor-length mirror before she left to walk up the aisle to be married.

The day was finally here. Her birthing pains were a distant memory. She didn't remember half of it, the pain had been more than she anticipated but nothing she couldn’t overcome.

She would never forget the look on Sloan's face, the knuckles on his hands red from holding her hands so tight that she had to tell him off as she bore down to make the final push to bring their children into the world.

Sloan had been linked with her throughout, calming her, talking her through the difficult moments, urging her to keep the end in sight, and speaking to their unborn children to help their mother by easing their passage into the world.

Alpha and Skye had taken over to get through some of the strain.

She had broken down in happy tears when they had first placed her babies, cleaned up and swaddled, across her belly.

Surprise. It was a boy and a girl.

A ferocious pride glittered in Sloan's eyes as he wiped her face and kissed her brow tenderly again and again, telling her she had been so strong, so careful, so intense in doing what she had to do.

Her large wolfman, and their tiny newborns, hovered over her like a sacred promise, gratitude shining in his tears.

The pale, soothing colors of the birthing suite and Dr. Norah Ashleyton's pure happiness faded as she returned to the reflection in front of her.

“Hurry up, angel…”

“I'll be there in a moment, my love, my Alpha…”

A gentle smile beamed into the mirror with her. She turned, gave her mother-in-law a hug, and kissed her twins, fast asleep in a bassinet.

Sian held her by the shoulder, looked her up and down, and shook her head.

"What a sight you are, my girl. I can hardly believe my eyes. Ethereal."

Megan and Myrielle sniffed quietly into a couple of make-up wipes behind them. Myra turned on them with a grin.

"Look at you two sappy bitches. It only took a few lengths of tulle to make you melt, huh?"

They blew their noses loudly and went off to fix their makeup.

Sian took Myra's hand. Myra was touched by the gratitude in her mother-in-law's eyes. Her son stirred in his sleep. Both Sian and Myra looked at him.

Myra leaned over and kissed him again. Pressing one to Sadye’s crown of dark hair as well.

"Hey, Myra, if you make Sloan wait any longer he's going to destroy the damn carpet." Declan ducked his head into the doorway.

Megan descended on them. "Declan! What are you doing here?! Out. Out!"

Declan flashed her a grin and blew her a kiss. Megan blushed. Myra raised her eyebrows.

In minutes, Myra found herself at the entrance to the venue, which had been set for the ceremony with the most delicate arrangements of blooms and ferns.

Laurence gasped when he saw his daughter and kissed her forehead before holding out his arm to her. Myra gave him a grateful look of acknowledgment.

Together, father and daughter made their way up the aisle to the waiting groom. Myrielle and Megan followed with the sleeping twins, swaddled in heavily embroidered ceremonial cloaks.

Laurence took his daughter's hand and placed it in Sloan's waiting one. Sloan led her gently up the steps to where Elder Reagan Alistair stood waiting to wed them.

The lycan king was magnificent in the pale gray suit, his hair swept neatly into a knot. The fabric clung to his muscles.

His body can hardly be touched by cloth. He was born to run wild with nothing to restrain his powerful legs.

Myra smirked.

“You clean up nicely, Alpha…”

“I don't have words for you, angel…”

“Have I taken your breath away, Alpha? Cat got your tongue?”

“Well…”

“Nope. Nope. Nope. Not now, Sloan.”

“Myra…”

“Yes?”

“Hurry up and let's get this over with, so I can rip that dress off you and break a few boards on the bed while we're at it. I can smell you, woman.”

“Sloan?”

“Yes, Myra?”

“If you ruin my dress, I'm going to key the paint on the new motorcycle Declan has waiting for you in the garage as a wedding present.”

“Angel?”

“Yes, my king?”

“Someone's saying something important.”

Reagan Alistair cleared his throat. "Shall we begin?"

A cloud of butterflies settled on the hedges and flowers around them as the Elder led the alpha and omega through their wedding vows. They swore their oaths to each other and their children and to the gathered loved ones.

It was time to break out the confetti and champagne. Declan did the honors, while Tristan shouted to keep it off his new suit. Theo, Sian, and Lawrence welcomed the guests into the elegant silk canopy that had been set up for the feast.

A string quartet played as Sloan and Myra danced to an ancient lycan tune passed down through the ages.

A few hours later, Myra's white dress whipped around her as lightning split the sky. She scrambled around in the rain among the stone ruins, searching for Sloan.

Her core was on fire, and she needed him inside her, hard and hot. She tripped over a stone and stumbled. A strong pair of arms caught her.

She froze as his alpha musk took over her senses and sent a shiver up her spine. She looked up into a pair of glowing eyes.

The lycan grabbed her by the waist and leaned in to kiss her. Myra screamed.

It wasn't Sloan.

Snapping out of her nightmare, still screaming, Myra sat up in bed as Sloan leaped up and caught her before she thrashed around and hurt herself.

“Angel. ANGEL. It was just a bad dream…”

Myra, sobbing, gathered her breath and held up the shreds of her wedding dress strewn around them. When Sloan got up to bring her some water, she noticed the scratches across his back.

She reached down and touched her core. It was wet. And sore. Confused and disoriented, she lay back against the pillow.