My heart lurches. Why does that sound like the beginning of a letdown?
“You…you broke my curse. You did the unthinkable. And I…I have my memories back. Things I didn’t even realize I’d forgotten have returned to me. I feel like they’re written all over my face.”
I furrow my brow. “What are you saying?”
“Surely, you can see it all. You must have seen it in Nyxia’s eyes. I was not a good wolf, Gemma. But I promise to be better.”
My breaths grow shallow, my mind reeling as I wait to see where he’s going with this.
His lips pull into a frown as he reaches a trembling hand to my cheek. “Do you still love me? I understand if you don’t, but…but I really hope you do.”
My heart flutters with warmth while relief and annoyance fight for dominance within me. “Of course I do, you fool. Do you think I tried to sacrifice our entire relationship for nothing?”
His lips pull into a sad smile. “I just thought…after what Nyxia said about me and the Alpha Council…well, my point is, it will take a lot of effort to repair the relationships with the other royals. In the meantime, they’ll talk. They’ll speculate. They’ll probably continue to hate me. I know you’ve been on the wrong side of gossip before, and I can’t—”
“Elliot,” I say, silencing him as I throw my arms around his neck, “let them talk. I don’t care. If they say anything to my face, I’ll have a few choice words for them myself, royal or no. All I care about is you. You, Elliot. The one I love.”
His lips pull higher, and finally I see that genuine smile of his, the one I first glimpsed in his parlor so many weeks ago. “I love you too, Gemma.”
He brings his lips to mine, tossing his staff to the side and gathering me in both arms. I pull him close, careful not to disrupt his precarious balance, reveling in the feel of him, the smell of him, the way his heart hammers against mine.
When we pull away, I feel like my grin will split my face in half. “So, your name is Flauvis? I suppose I should stop calling you Elliot Rochester.”
“Honestly, I don’t care what you call me,” he says. “Call me Elliot, Flauvis. Anything. So long as I’m yours.”
Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
At the top of the stairs, I call down the hall toward the children’s room. “Dinner’s ready.”
I hear an excited whoop, followed by a bark, then three figures charge out the room and skid down the hall. Micah and Jenny are in their seelie forms, while Charlie pads over in wolf form.
My heart squeezes, noting Franklin’s absence. The fourth child left the manor just last month when his mother finally came to claim him. I’m happy that he’s been reunited with his original family, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get over the ache of having had to relinquish the pup I’ve grown to love over the last year. But I must bear it, for in time, all the children might be reclaimed by their parents now that the curse is broken. Until then, I will love them like they are my own with every beat of my heart.
“Who’s eating what?” I ask when they approach.
Charlie barks, Micah says, “Bread!” and Jenny shifts from foot to foot, lips pursed. Then, with a shudder, she dissolves into a puff of black and gray fur and lets out an excited bark.
“All right,” I say. “You know where to go.”
They charge down the stairs, and I follow them at a more leisurely pace. Once inside the dining hall, Micah takes a seat at the long table, while the two young wolves begin playing at the other side of the room, tails eagerly wagging.
Bertha comes in behind me, carrying a platter of fresh bread in one arm and an enormous bowl of stew in the other. “Let me help,” I say, taking the bread.
“Ah, thank you, my dear,” she says, and we bring the dishes to the table, which is already laden with a generous spread. Once our burdens are set down, Bertha faces me and reaches into her apron pocket. “I almost forgot! You have letters from the post.”
I take them from her, finding a few unexciting correspondences. Then at the bottom, I find an envelope sent from a familiar name—Ember Montgomery. Shortly after the curse was broken, Mrs. Coleman left Vernon, taking her daughters and stepdaughter with her. I can only assume that means her courtship with my father didn’t survive, for he still lives in town. A town that is becoming more and more populated by fae and other interesting people I’ve been dying to get to know. Still, I haven’t stopped thinking about my turquoise-haired friend, her beautiful piano playing, and her unfortunate living situation with her awful stepfamily. I begged her to write to me after she left, but this is the first letter I’ve received from her since.
My fingers buzz with anticipation, and everything in me wants to open the envelope at once—
“Where is everyone else?” Bertha asks, distracting me. “They know dinner is at six—ah, never mind. I hear them.”
Just then, the sound of paws comes slapping over the flagstones in the hall. A few seconds later, several wolves enter the room. Two work together to carry an enormous deer corpse, which I shake my head at.
With a sigh, I tuck the letters into one of my dress pockets, promising myself I’ll read Ember’s letter first thing after dinner. For now, more pressing matters await. “Blood on the marble?” I call to the wolves with the deer. “Again? I hope you’re on cleaning duty tonight.”
The two wolves take the corpse over to where Charlie and Jenny wait at the far end of the room. When the children leap for an early bite, the wolves growl for them to be patient until the others arrive. More wolves file in, and some shift into their seelie forms to join Micah at the table while the others head toward the back. Finally, bringing up the rear, is my beloved white wolf.
