And Still, He Loved. 4

Chapter Four: The wedding Ceremony

Their wedding was beautiful in form—but brittle in spirit.

Held on a cliffside estate overlooking the South Sea, the ceremony was a breathtaking display of wealth, artistry, and ancient tradition. The aisle was lined with cascading orchids and flanked by towering white sakura trees, each branch adorned with hanging crystal lanterns. The breeze carried the faint scent of jasmine and amberwood, wafting through silk-draped pavilions and golden trellises. Floating lanterns rose slowly into the sky like glowing spirits bearing blessings, while white rose petals fell from above like gentle snow. The guest list, while still elegant, was far smaller than expected. Only a select few from each family attended—elders, trusted allies, and a handful of family friends. It was intimate by elite standards. From Ash's side, there was only his personal assistant, a few loyal staff from his company, and Zev and Habel, who stood in quiet solidarity. It was not the grand spectacle expected of such powerful names. But it was still beautiful, and still unbearably distant for the one left in the shadows.

Elinor wore a hand-stitched ivory ensemble with sapphire embroidery that shimmered like water under the sun, flowing like mist around his frame. Zieth, too, wore pristine white—an unusual choice for the Enigma heir—but his robes were sleek and minimalist, embroidered with silver thread and a crest of the Rhae lineage near the collar. They stood like twin icons of tradition and grace, glowing beneath the lantern-lit archway.

Ash, by contrast, stood slightly behind them in stark black. His suit was tailored to perfection—midnight velvet with sharp steel accents, his shirt collar high, his boots polished to a mirror shine. He was the embodiment of refined silence, the shadow that framed the light. His presence drew eyes for a moment, but they slid past him just as quickly.

The Rhae family, seated in dignified silence, nodded approvingly as their heir led the ceremony with quiet poise. The Soo family, more expressive, dabbed eyes and smiled proudly at Elinor, whispering about future generations and fate’s blessings.

As's side was nearly empty. No parents. No extended family.

On groom's side Zev and Habel—Zev, the older brother of Zieth, and Habel, his gentle and insightful Omega husband—watching, present, and quietly protective. They noticed Ash's nearly empty raw.

The Guests were asked to quiet. The musicians softened their notes. Moonlight filtered through the arched trellis above the altar, casting silver halos over the white silk carpet. The officiant stepped forward, opening a small velvet-bound book—old, ceremonial, worn with time.

Elinor and Zieth faced one another, their hands gently entwined, palms trembling.

Ash stood beside them, to the left, as the bond-mate by fate. But no one asked him to speak. No string of vows waited for him. His presence was his only role.

The officiant's voice was low and reverent.

Priest

“Zieth, son of house Valeriun, do you accept Elinor as your bonded mate, to walk with him in strength and softness, to guide and protect, to listen and lead, from this day until your final one?”

Zieth looked into Elinor’s eyes. His tone was calm, but inside, something fragile stirred.

Zieth[E]

“I do,” he said. “Always.”

Priest

The officiant turned. “Elinor, son of house Mercaire, do you accept Zieth as your bonded mate, to stand by him in light and in shadow, to speak truth, to offer heart and hearth, from this day until your final one?”

Elinor[O]

Elinor smiled—not wide, but real. “I do,” he said softly.

There was silence after that. The officiant waited, turning slightly, eyes flickering toward Ash—checking the page again, as if perhaps a line had been missed.

But he handled it professionally.

Then softly, he spoke:

Priest

“And to you, Ash—Alpha of no house, yet bound by fate—do you take these men, Elinor and Zieth, as your husbands?”

Priest

Ash didn’t speak immediately.

Elinor[O]

👀

But when he did, his voice was calm. Steady.

Ash[A]

“I do.”

He watched them exchange rings—Zieth sliding a platinum band onto Elinor’s finger, and Elinor doing the same with trembling hands.

Ash had brought rings too. Two of them. Carefully chosen. Quietly crafted. One for each of them.

But they never turned to him. Never reached out. Never asked. So he stood in silence, understanding.

The moment wasn’t his. It never had been. And the rings in his pocket stayed there—cold, unseen, forgotten.