“Of course.” I rub my hands down her skin, knowing full well I’ll never get enough of her.
“Will that fall on the holiday you’ve made in honor of my pussy?” she asks brightly.
“Truly, my love, I will honor your sweet cunt every day of the year, and often twice.” I roll over and claim her mouth again.
She smiles as her hands twine around my neck. “Let’s call it Xalana Day.”
Epilogue I
Beth
“What do you think I am?” I lean against Iridiel. “I’m not human anymore. I know that. But what else could I be?”
He turns his head and takes a bunch of winterberries from my palm. “How should I know?”
“Taylor doesn’t know. She can’t figure it out.” I hold up a finger. “I think that crafty witch Sabine knows but won’t say. She’s so sneaky. And also creepy. But a good friend, all things considered.”
“Wait, the witch who tricked you into dying is your friend?”
“Definitely.” I lean more against him, letting him hold me up.
The stables are nice and toasty despite the howling winter wind outside. The sweet scent of fresh hay fills my nose, and the fire at the end of the barn is stoked high enough to keep any chill at bay.
I hold my hand out and peer at my too-perfect skin, the slight shimmer to it. “Maybe I’m a god.”
“A god? What’s that?” His big blue eye gives me a once over.
“I don’t really know. Clotty told me about them when I was young. She said they’re in the human world. But they’re invisible? I’m not entirely sure how that works.”
“What do they do?” He chomps some more winterberries.
“One of them controls lightning, I think. If he gets mad, then he throws lightning bolts at people he doesn’t like. Another one is sort of like the master of the Spires, all dark and broody. And one controls the sea. Some of them do mischief and mistreat the humans for fun. There are a lot of them, I guess.”
“That’s preposterous.” He snorts. “All made up nonsense. Stick to what’s real. Unicorns, the realms, the Ancestors.”
I sigh. “I suppose you’re right. But hey.” I scratch his neck. “No one’s told me I’mnota god, so maybe that means Iama god.”
“If you say so. Hey, you never told me how that conversation with Silmaran went.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I toe at the hay. “It was hard enough the first time.”
“That bad?”
“That bad.” I nod. “I mean, Gareth already told her the news, but I told her what I’d seen in the Glowing Lands. That Chastain is there waiting for her. And that made it more final, somehow? I don’t know.” Silmaran fell apart. I held her for hours as she cried, and I cried with her. Chastain shouldn’t have died. He should be here with her. She deserves that happy ending, and so does he. But the Ancestors don’t always heed what we want.
Iridiel gives a slight bow of his head. “He was a good fae. I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” I stroke his side some more, calming myself as much as him.
“Well, here you are.” Clotty bustles through the barn, a load of apples in her arms.
“What are you doing with my apples?” Iridiel sounds offended.
“Little Ellendra isn’t feeling well and only wants applesauce.” She drops the apples into a basket. “Freshapplesauce.”
The slaves from Granthos’s estate that I sent to the winter realm made it and were granted sanctuary. Taura delivered her baby girl. She’ll never know the monster that was her father, and Taura—as well as all the other former slaves—dotes on the little girl with devotion and love.
“What are you two about?” Clotty pulls her furs closer around her neck.
