The curse is broken. My pack is free. I have a mate who loves me for exactly who I am, flaws and all. The future lies ahead with new challenges and opportunities, but we’ll face them as partners.
For the first time in my life, I’m not afraid of what I’m feeling. Not ashamed of needing someone or convinced that connection makes me weak. The curse taught me all those lies, but the curse is gone now.
And I’m finally, truly free.
Epilogue - Reeyan
Our daughter’s tiny fist wraps around my finger with surprising strength for someone only three months old.
I stand in the newly constructed Llewelyn-Grayhide Cultural Center, surrounded by the culmination of two years’ work. The building rises three stories high, with archives from both packs housed under one roof. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in natural light that illuminates the reading areas where wolves from multiple territories gather to study our shared history.
Elara makes a small sound against my chest, nestled in the carrier I wear. Her silver-blonde hair matches her mother’s exactly, but she has my green eyes. A perfect blend of both territories, born into a world where the curse is nothing more than a cautionary tale about the dangers of revenge disguised as protection.
“She’s beautiful,” Matriarch Lydia comments, appearing at my elbow. The Llewelyn leader moves with more ease than she did two years ago, her face softer now that she can express emotion without magical suppression, fighting her at every turn. “Sera must be exhausted.”
“She is. But she won’t admit it.”
Lydia laughs and replies, “That’s my niece. Stubborn to the core.”
I search the crowd for Sera and find her on the second floor, speaking with a group of younger Llewelyn women who are still learning to handle their emotional freedom. She gestures animatedly; there’s no trace of the reserved archivist I met on that desert road. Breaking the curse didn’t just free her pack. It transformed them into something they were always meant to be.
“The center is impressive,” Lydia continues. “I never imagined we’d build something like this when you first came to us with evidence of the curse.”
“Neither did I. But Sera had the vision for it.” I adjust the carrier, making sure Elara’s head is supported properly. “She wanted a place where Llewelyn women could learn their true history alongside Grayhide’s. Where future generations would understand what was stolen from them and how they got it back.”
“She’s done remarkable work with the support groups.” Lydia watches her niece with undisguised pride. “Her psychic abilities have developed beyond anything we expected.”
That’s an understatement. Sera’s visions have grown stronger and more controlled since breaking the curse. She can now sense emotional distress in other Llewelyn women before they even recognize it themselves, which she uses to guide them through the process of feeling everything for the first time.
“She’s helped over a hundred women adjust to emotional freedom,” I tell Lydia. “And trained a dozen others to do the same work across different territories.”
“The curse affected more than just our pack. News spread quickly about what happened here.” Lydia’s face grows serious. “We’ve had inquiries from three other matriarchal packs asking if their emotional distance might be magically induced rather than cultural.”
“Are they?”
“Two of them, yes. Veva and Evangeline confirmed it last month. Both packs are preparing to attempt their own rituals. They want Sera to be there. To guide them through the process.”
My wolf bristles at the thought of Sera putting herself in danger again, even though I know she’s more than capable. “What did she say?”
“That she needs to discuss it with you first. That you’re partners in all things.”
Pride swells in my chest. Sera could have agreed immediately. Could have made the decision without consulting me. But she chooses partnership over independence every time, not because the mate bond demands it, but because she values what we’ve built together.
Elara squirms in the carrier, making small, unhappy sounds. I recognize the signs. She’s hungry.
“I should find Sera. Feeding time.”
Lydia nods and moves away to greet other guests. The grand opening has drawn wolves from every territory in the valley. Oren and Ash stand near the historical displays with Wyn and Raegan. Dorian made the trip from Ambersky with his mate. Even some of the Hysopp witches came to witness what their coven’s documentation helped accomplish.
I make my way up the stairs to the second floor, navigating through clusters of conversations. Elara’s complaints grow louder, and several people smile as we pass. A crying baby at a formal opening would have been scandalous to the old Llewelyn pack. Now they just find it endearing.
Sera sees me coming and excuses herself from her group. She meets me halfway across the floor, reaching for our daughter.
“Someone’s hungry,” she says, smiling.
“Someone inherited her mother’s impatience.”
“And her father’s stubbornness.” Sera takes Elara from the carrier, cradling her. “There’s a private room on the third floor I can use. Want to come with me?”
