The Lycan King’s Mark (Nevara) by Tiffanie L. Campbell novel Chapter 109

Michelle tapped her mug lightly against the table. “Okay, enough with the scandalous pillow talk. Let’s

circle back to what matters.”

I tilted my head. “The fate of the kingdom or just my drama?”

“Both,” she said sweetly. “What’s happening with Bethany and the paternity situation?”

I exhaled. “They’re supposed to be heading to the genetics lab today. But I doubt they’ll get results immediately. Doesn’t DNA take a few days to process?”

Michelle hummed. “Usually. But with royal resources and a grumpy Alpha breathing down their necks, I wouldn’t be surprised if the lab expedited it.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Bethany tried to delay it,” Sabrina muttered into her croissant.

Michelle smirked. “Well, lucky for her, we won’t be here to obsess about it.”

I blinked. “What?”

She pushed her chair back and stood, already pulling her phone from her pocket. “Bridal boutique. One

hour.”

I blinked. “Wait–today?”

She grinned, showing no mercy. “Yes. Don’t play coy. You knew this was coming. It’s time to pick your wedding dress, Nevara. And before you ask–yes, I booked the good boutique. No, you don’t get out of it.”

A flutter stirred low in my stomach. Excitement? Panic? Probably both.

“I need my mom,” I said automatically, rising from the table.

“I’ll let her know we’re heading out,” Sabrina said, grabbing her half–full plate as she stood. “Want me to

watch Noah so your dad can come too?”

I paused. “Maybe. He might want to-”

But when I reached their suite and told them, my dad shook his head with a quiet smile.

“No, sweetheart. This is something for you and your mom.”

“We could leave Noah with Sabrina-”

“I want to be surprised,” he said simply. “When I visit your bridal suite when you’re all ready, I want it to be the first time I see you in the dress.”

His voice cracked just slightly on the word bridal, and that sealed it.

I nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Chapter 109–Threaded With Promise

“I’ll take care of Noah,” he said. “You go have your moment.”

By the time we returned to the entry hall, Michelle was already waiting–earrings in, coat draped over one arm, tapping her heel like the time it took me to find my lip gloss was an inconvenience to international

diplomacy.

“Finally,” she sighed. “Let’s go find your fairytale dress so we can all cry like idiots and blow the royal

budget.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled. Mom took my hand as we stepped out into the crisp winter air, the warmth of her palm grounding me in a way I hadn’t even realized I needed.

Somewhere out there, a lab was running tests on the blood of a boy who’s mother claims he’s my fiancé’s

son. Somewhere out there, secrets were being laid bare.

But here? Right now?

It was just three women. A car. A boutique. And the promise of silk, lace, and something new.

The boutique was tucked into one of the high–end districts just outside the capital walls, all glossy black windows and gold trim, the kind of place that didn’t advertise because it didn’t have to.

A sharply dressed woman greeted us at the door with a clipboard and a smile that looked surgically

precise. “You must be the Laurent party. Right this way–our royal suite is ready.”

We followed her past velvet curtains and glittering mannequins into a private room that looked like it belonged in a bridal fashion magazine–soft blush walls, gold–framed mirrors, a platform surrounded by crushed velvet seating, and rows of pristine gowns waiting on racks like sleeping swans.

“Oh,” Mom breathed, hand to her chest. “It’s beautiful.”

Michelle whistled under her breath. “If I ever get married, I’m coming here–or robbing it.”

I laughed, stepping toward the dresses but not touching them yet. My fingers tingled with nerves. I hadn’t

expected to feel this… shaky.

The assistant returned with champagne flutes for everyone. “Take your time. We’ve preselected a few

options based on your measurements and style file, but feel free to browse and pull anything that catches

your eye.”

She left us alone, and Michelle immediately turned to Mom.

“So, Mrs. Laurent, how did you and your husband meet? Because your daughter’s about to marry a man who looks like he could crush boulders for fun, and I need to know where that gene pool started.”

Mom smiled gently. “Please. Call me Natalie.”

Michelle blinked, then gave a slightly stunned grin. “Alright, Natalie it is–but if I start oversharing, that’s on you.”

“Oh, I’m used to that,” Mom said warmly. “I’ve been listening to Nevara’s thoughts on boys since she was

< Chapter 109 – Threaded With Promise

old enough to blush.”

“Mom!”

+25 Points

She just sipped her champagne like it was tea and she had all the time in the world to embarrass me.

Michelle picked the first gown–a strapless ballgown with a beaded bodice and layers of ruffled tulle so

dramatic it practically needed its own zip code.

I stepped out of the fitting room, bracing for their reactions.

Mom winced first. “It’s… very princessy.”

“Like, Barbie princess,” Michelle added, scrunching her nose. “But not in a cute way. More like if your dress

had a sugar crash.”

I turned toward the mirror. She wasn’t wrong. I looked like a birthday cake that had gone twelve rounds

with a blender. I let out a breath. “Next.”

The second dress was better–slim silhouette, intricate lace. Elegant. Safe.

Too safe.

Mom tilted her head. “It’s lovely, sweetheart. But it’s not you.”

Michelle shrugged. “It’s giving diplomatic dinner. Not ‘conquered a kingdom and claimed her mate.”

She wasn’t wrong.

The third gown had potential–off–shoulder sleeves, corset back–but the fabric scratched, the skirt didn’t

sit right, and I couldn’t breathe.

I stepped out and immediately regretted it.

“Oh no,” Michelle said flatly. “You look like you’re being held hostage by a doily.”

Mom tried to soften it. “Maybe if we tried it in a different fabric?”

I tugged at the bodice. “Or maybe not at all.”

I turned back toward the dressing room, sighing. “This is harder than I thought.”

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