I trace my fingers along its soft corners as I lift my gaze back to Alderic. His golden hair is tousled, and his eyes are so blue it’s like staring into the horizon. But better. Because the horizon is distant, always just out of reach. But this? This is here. This is mine.
“Would you come with me?” I ask. My chest tightens around the question, my voice hushed and uncertaindespite everything we’ve been through.
He draws in a slow breath, his fingers closing around mine.
“Gemma.” It’s just my name. But it lands like something sacred, something sure. “I would follow you to the ends of the earth.”
The breath leaves me in a stuttering exhale.
“This was never my world,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You are.”
A slow, aching warmth unfurls in my chest, expanding, blossoming. The fear, the belief that I would always have to choose between freedom and love, between myself and someone else—it vanishes.
I reach up, curling my fingers into the front of his torn tunic, and tug him down. His breath mingles with mine as our lips meet.
Soft at first—a kiss of relief, of gratitude, ofI’m still here and so are you.
Then deeper. Fiercer. Like he’s saying a prayer, making an offering at my altar.
When we finally part, I press the card between our joined hands.
The magick pulses, warm and bright. The ink shifts again. The two figures entwine, melting into each other, moving as if they already know what comes next.
I look up at Alderic, my heart so full it feels like it might burst. “Let’s go home.”
Magick answers in a swell of silver light.
And together, hand in hand, we step into forever.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
The bell above the door chimes softly as Alderic and I step inside, the delicate sound ringing through the boutique. It’s warm here, cozy in that intoxicating way only small shops and bakeries manage to pull off.
Outside, the South Carolina winter is colder than usual, the kind of biting chill that lingers no matter how many layers I put on or how sweaty I get inside my coat. But here in Wilder Ever After, it’s summer again, the air rich with lavender and the faintest hint of something sweet.
The wedding boutique looks exactly as I remember. Faceted crystals dangle from the ceiling like suspended starlight and scatter tiny rainbows across the glossy hardwood floor. Floor-length gowns shimmer along their racks, pools of ivory and champagne, intricate beading catching the golden glow of the pendant lights. Bundles of herbs tied with twine rest beside a collection of candles shaped like goddesses. Veils float from silverhooks like ghosts caught mid-spin. And nestled among a delicate cloud of lace and silk, a small vase of fresh strawberries sits on the counter—ripe, red, and waiting.
“It’s like they knew we were coming.” Alderic pops a berry into his mouth and reaches for another. “You know, I’ve been thinking…we should make chocolate covered strawberries our signature dessert. Every Fated Feasts catering package comes with a platter of indulgence.”
I smile, my heart swelling in that way it always does when he talks about our business. “You just want an excuse to play with sweets.”
“And what if I do?” He chews thoughtfully, his voice rich with mock offense. “I’d argue my cake decorating skills are a public service. Honestly, I should be knighted.”
I laugh, bumping his thigh with my hip. It’s true, though. As it turns out, he’s ridiculously talented with a piping bag…among other things. He once turned a dozen cupcakes into a Baroque-style fresco. I handle the customers, the spreadsheets, the bank accounts. He handles the sugar and spice and everything delicious.
We built this together—a thriving catering company. A life. A future I can’t imagine without him. Not because Ineedhim. But because Ichosehim. Because I finally chose myself, and that choice led me here.
I lace my fingers through his, squeezing gently. “Come on, sugar daddy,” I whisper. “Let’s go see my dress.”
Alderic grins, sliding his arm around my waist as we move deeper into the shop. His golden hair tousled from the brisk winter wind, his ocean-blue gaze glitters as he takes in the boutique’s eclectic charms—thevelvet-draped windows, the wax dongs, the strands of talismans that dangle from the ceiling like captured constellations.
“Remind me why I don’t get to try on anything?” he asks, his voice low against my ear.
“Because if I let you loose in the crystal vaginas, I’ll never get you out again.”
“It’s you two!” Elsie emerges from behind a display with a grin so wide and unapologetic, it could melt the frost off a January windshield, her gaze bouncing between Alderic and me. So much like Sylvie and yet so different.
