She doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t question it. Her fingers tighten in mine instead. “Neither are we.”
We stand there a moment longer. Looking toward the range.
The sky is clear. Too clear. And somewhere in that silence—something watches.
Epilogue
KAEL
Asoft breeze moves through the fields, slow and steady, brushing over the land like breath.
The menace is gone—mutilated cattle, unexplained crop symbols, ranch hands who don’t look back.
The older hurt is gone now, too. Of Wildblood hunters who exacted vengeance from fear. Targeting mates because their lives were tied to more powerful ones, ones beyond the reach of most mortal intervention.
I absentmindedly rub the scars over my stomach, letting go of memories of the Wakefield Ranch too dark to hold onto.
The night Clemson’s woman died—and then him. The night I got a gut full of lead.
And the oath I took afterwards, never to stay anywhere again. But now I understand. The bond gives more than it takes—but what it takes, it takes all at once.
I lean against the fence, watching the night stretch out toward the horizon. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I’m staying.
To build a home and a life I never thought possible.
That’s when I feel her. I wait, lips pressed into a lopsided grin. Next come the rustle of footsteps, light and familiar.
Eliza doesn’t say anything when she reaches me. She just slides into my side, her warmth fitting against me like we were always meant to.
“You’re smiling,” she says softly.
I huff a quiet breath. “Your fault.”
She tilts her head, studying me. “Since when?”
My gaze drops to her. To the faint echo of my marks beneath her skin.
Brown-sugar warm eyes, cinnamon-freckled cheeks, pink lips sweet as apple blossoms. So beautiful, she’s a gut punch to my soul.
“Since you,” I drawl.
Her expression is soft, inviting. I dip my head, brushing her mouth. An easy gesture filled with enough love to burst my heart.
She senses it, face flushing as her hand comes up. Her fingers brush over my chest, tracing the glyphs now settled beneath my skin. No longer straining or fighting. But burning with a steady devotion for her alone.
“Does it still hurt?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Aches is all. Bittersweet, like my feelings for you.”
“Bittersweet?” she murmurs, forehead knitting.
“Yes, love you something fierce. Like it could rip my soul clean in two… like you’ve crawled permanently beneath my skin.”
“Kael,” she sighs, fingers sliding higher, slower now. Intentional.
I catch her wrist before she can pull away, touching my lips to her knuckles. Then, sliding my tongue between her digits, circling them, pressing my lips to each fingertip. Her pupils blow wide, breath going rough.
“You keep doing that,” I say quietly.
