"Stay," I managed, my eyes already closing.
"I'm not going anywhere."
EPILOGUE: CHARLIE
I opened my eyes to find Malrik already awake, watching me with that expression I'd learned to recognize over the past year and a half. Not the calculated charm he showed the world, but something softer. Real.
"How long have you been staring at me?" I asked, my voice still rough with sleep.
"Long enough to confirm you drool when you're particularly tired." He traced a finger along my jaw. "Yesterday's event ran late. You should have let me handle the cleanup."
"We're partners," I reminded him. "That means we both handle cleanup."
The Ashcliff Entertainment and Davenport Events merger had been official for six months now, though we'd been working together long before that. Turned out that a meticulous event planner and a demon with centuries of hosting experience made an effective team.
"Partners," he repeated. I felt his satisfaction with the word. Not just business partners. Not just the bond that connected our powers. But the choice we made every day to be together.
I shifted closer, and he pulled me against his chest. The patterns on our skin pulsed in gentle synchronization, a visible reminder of the connection we'd stopped fighting and started embracing.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Early enough that we don't have to think about work yet."
That was new. A year and a half ago, I would have been up at dawn, reviewing schedules and checking lists. Now I let myself have these quiet moments, learning that not everything needed to be planned and controlled.
"We have the Thornwood wedding consultation at two," I said anyway, because some habits died hard.
"I'm aware." His hand traced idle patterns on my shoulder. "Jada already sent the preliminary notes. The bride wants 'ethereal forest ambiance with subtle supernatural elements.'"
"That's half our clients now." I smiled. "Word gets around when you successfully coordinate events where vampires and werewolves don't kill each other."
"You make it sound so simple."
"It is simple. Clear communication, proper planning, and knowing when to let you handle the magical logistics."
"I prefer when you handle the magical logistics," he said. "Watching you command a room full of supernatural beings is remarkably attractive."
I felt the warmth of his words, the genuine appreciation beneath the flirtation. "You just like that I'm not intimidated by your world anymore."
"I like that you made my world our world," he corrected. "And improved it considerably in the process."
Through the window, early morning light filtered into the room. We'd redecorated his chambers months ago, blending my practical design layout with his dramatic aesthetic. It worked, somehow. Like everything else we'd built together.
"Do you ever miss it?" I asked quietly. "Your life before. When you didn't have to coordinate with anyone or compromise or deal with my color-coded filing systems?"
He was quiet for a moment, and I felt him considering the question seriously rather than deflecting with charm.
"Not one bit," he said. "And I don't miss the emptiness. I hosted elaborate events, surrounded myself with powerful beings, commanded respect and fear. And I was alone." His arms tightened around me. "I prefer this."
"Even when I reorganize your study?"
"Even then." I felt his smile against my hair. "Though I maintain that alphabetizing ancient demon texts by title rather than age is unconventional."
"It's practical."
"It's very you."
We lay there in comfortable silence, and I marveled at how natural this felt. How the bond that had once terrified me nowfelt like an extension of myself. How the power I'd fought against now enhanced everything I did.
