Goddammit, she’s going to break me. I crush my mouth to hers, not caring who’s watching, listening, or taking pictures. Not one more second can pass without her taste in my mouth. Without me confirming this is my forever.
She is my forever.
Her fingers tangle into the hair at the nape of my neck, holding me to her, and our lips part, tongues greeting, welcoming each other, and I sigh into her mouth. This. This is home.
Sheis home.
When she draws back to brush a kiss over my chin and jaw, the noise around us penetrates, and I lift my head, blinking against the glare of the cameras thrust into our faces.
Laughing, I wrap my arms around her, lifting her off her feet again and smacking a hard, quick kiss to her lips.
“I think we might’ve made a spectacle of ourselves,” I murmur.
She tips her head back, grinning up at me. “Just a little.” Then the grin fades a bit, and her teeth sink into her bottom lip.
“What, sweetheart?” I ask.
Her lashes sweep down for a moment before they lift, and a hint of uncertainty glints in her brown eyes. “Before, in the library, you said you were running toward me. Have you stopped?”
I shake my head, then chuckle softly and brush a kiss over her forehead, cheek, and finally her mouth. “Sweetheart,” I breathe against her lips. “I’m a cross-country runner, not a sprinter.”
She stares at me, and the moment the meaning of my answer dawns, a beautiful, blinding smile spreads across her face, and damn if I don’t fall just a little bit more in love with her.
“I love you, Miriam Nelson. I’ve never stopped. And I never will.”
“I love you more, Jordan Ransom. Thank you for not settling.”
And with the press clamoring around us, our happily ever after begins now.
EPILOGUE
MIRIAM
“I’m yours forever. And for an immortal, that’s a long time.”
—North the Woodsman, Ravaged Lands
Six months later
“Damn, I’m good.”
I grin down at the finished panel of the latest issue of Ravaged Lands. Also, coincidentally, the last one of what will be the fourth omnibus. Satisfaction and joy flood me, and it’s like a hit of adrenaline, energizing me even though I’ve spent the last six hours working nonstop.
Since leaving the everyday operations of BURNED six months ago, I’ve been able to devote more time to my full-time career as Rayland Penn. Which has meant releasing biweekly issues of my series instead of monthly. The more-frequent releases have meant an uptick in downloads and readers. And they are absolutely loving Sarafina Rose and North. The buzz has generated even more interest from publishers, and my new agent is negotiating a distribution contract right now thatwill see Ravaged Lands on not just indie bookstore shelves but in chain stores as well.
It’s been a dream.
One I didn’t know could be mine. I wasted so much time being afraid—of being open with my brother and sister, of standing in my truth, of letting others see the real me ... of living. So I’ve vowed to myself to never live in the past again. To never pass another day in bitterness or fear. To spend every moment forgiving and loving myself.
And with the man who has brought such joy and completion to my life.
Sighing, I set down the stylus and hop off the high-back drafting chair and step away from the standing desk. Stretching my arms above my head, I glance around the airy, sunny room with the balcony french doors thrown open to allow the early-afternoon sunshine in. An array of windows claims one wall, while framed art from Ravaged Lands mounts the others. Besides my desk and chair, a couch, chairs, a table, a bookshelf, and other office equipment claim space in the huge room.
It’s my office.
In Jordan’s house.
He created this place for me. Not as a bribe to get me to move in with him ... although I cannot lie—it worked. Still, he wanted me to have my own space in his home. Little does he know, I already did. Him.
