And for the first time, it feels like enough.
Epilogue
Violet
Ican hear Beau hammering before I smell the sawdust.
Hard, rhythmic whacks, each one followed by a muttered curse or an enthusiastic “Nailed it!” even when, based on the clattering aftermath, he very much did not nail it.
He’s humming enthusiastically, some chaotic mash of a pop song and what might be a wolf war-chant. The sound vibrates through the boards of the gazebo and into my fingertips.
His girlfriend—yes, that girlfriend; Fiona, all wolf-princess confidence and effortless grace—hands him tools he definitely didn’t ask for. Or need.
Every time she brushes against him, Beau emits a delighted little whuff, a soft huff of air that sounds like a tiny puppy sneeze wrapped in raw adoration.
Like he still can’t believe she exists. Like she might vanish if he doesn’t keep checking that she’s real.
“Sweetheart, that’s a wrench,” Beau says gently, trying to be patient.
“Yes,” she replies serenely, as if this is helpful.
“I asked for a screwdriver.”
“I am preventing you from screwing anything,” she says matter-of-factly. “This is protective behavior.”
He makes a wounded noise. “I am responsible.”
I snort. “You literally fell off a ladder yesterday.”
“That ladder was weak. I am very responsible.”
I laugh so hard I have to hold the railing. The smell of sawdust thickens, warm and woody, drifting over me with the breeze. Someone spins, the air shifts, and Fiona’s voice carries again. “Violet, he is building your planter wrong.”
“I am building it with soul,” Beau calls back.
“There are no straight lines,” she mutters.
“Straight lines are a tool of the oppressor.”
Grinning, I wipe a tear from my cheek. “This is my romantic subplot.”
Beau gasps dramatically. “You have a romantic subplot?”
Before I can respond, another voice drifts from somewhere behind me, low, fond, unmistakably Jason.
“She has a main plot, Beau.”
Warmth crawls up my neck.
Beau makes a strangled little grunt. “Are you back? You’re back? You’re?—”
A tool clatters. A board crashes. Beau yelps. “I’m okay!”
Jason’s footsteps approach steady, familiar, grounding. And when his hand brushes mine, everything in me unwinds. He’s been working with the Eustace alphas. They’re helping him be a better alpha, and he’s bringing a softer side out in them. They’re still into some criminal stuff but have gotten out of gambling. They’re even sending kids who are in a similar situation to what Jason was in our way when they come across them. I’ve finally discovered something worthwhile to do with the money from the settlement. There’s nothing better than funding a program for lost and orphaned boys with the money from tragedy.
Jason climbs the steps and kisses me.
Beau sniffs loudly. “Don’t be gross around my construction project.”
