Epilogue
Ronan
Fabrics spill over the side of Cameron’s arms as he walks into view, fresh from doing laundry in the spring. He flashes me a smile and flutters his fingers, almost dropping the sheets in the process, then chuckles to himself as he ducks into our house.
The sight of him being so domestic makes me smile—hanging curtains, beating the dust from rugs. It’s so simple, but it brings me so much peace.
The bubbling water calms him, and after a morning of unsuccessful work on the solar panels, he needed the distraction. By the time I coaxed him away, I’m pretty sure he’d already stubbed his toe by kicking the metal.
He’s gotten one working, but these are small compared to the giant panels at the rebel camp, and the limited sunlight that makes it through the thick trees compounds the problem. I’m afraid we might need materials that are only obtainable from specialized shops inside the cities, but Cam keeps trying.
A single functioning panel out of the dozen here provides very little electricity. It’s enough for a couple of hot showers and powering the stove for one meal, but anything beyond that is unreliable. Unless I’m baking, we limit cooking to fires and conserve the oil we have for the lanterns. Modern amenities are a fair trade for safety and security, though—one that I’d make a million times over to be here with him.
The well was easier to fix, and was up and running within two days. It’s a mechanical, hand-primed style of pump—an instance where the lack of technology comes in handy, and was thought out long ago by those who installed it. Indoor plumbing is a constant source of pleasure for Cameron, who’s lived so much of his life without it. It’s also been a tremendous help in getting this place clean.
Six years of filth is no joke.
Our house didn’t need major repairs, thankfully, since the roof held up with only a few tiny leaks. Vines climbed the exterior walls, but they only dislodged a few sections of siding and never forced their way through the windows.
Materials are taken from the building in the worst shape, one that’s far beyond repair. Even in its current condition, we’re able to steal plenty to patch the other homes together, and I’ve spent much of the daylight removing the suitable pieces of siding, intact shingles, and unbroken windows.
I had our house weathertight and waterproof in a matter of days.
Nyx’s cottage is another story.
We’ve repaired his walls and adjusted his doors to shut properly, ensuring all the locks engage. Despite his initial reluctance, I have replaced the broken windows, though I’ve been careful not to damage the vines that drape over the glass. Funny enough, his vines are the only ones with blooms—tiny white and yellow flowers scattered among the green leaves.
I’d love to ask him about his magic, but although weeks have passed, he stays to himself. Cameron offered his help at cleaning inside, but Nyx simply gave a sad shake of his head.
My attempts to make conversation have fallen short, and he’s barely spoken a word since we arrived. The boundary between helpfulness and interference is razor-thin, and we’re doing our best to navigate that line with care. He has joined us for a few meals, and I see him outside most days.
He started clearing space for a garden, seemingly at his happiest when he’s covered in dirt under the sun. Even with running indoor water, he prefers to use the creek for most of his needs and spends much of his time in the woods. He’ll often appear at the edge of the trees, hands filthy and smile serene, and Cameron likes to quietly whisper to me that he looks like the forest elves in one of the books he’s been reading.
Boomerang stays with Nyx often. I can tell it makes Cameron a little sad, though he’s glad Nyx has the company.
In the center of town, a brick building with a slightly rusted door is being used as storage. What felt like mountains of supplies in the van now look like a meager collection on the extensive shelving. A wave of apprehension washes over me as I step inside, though I try to squash it .
We have more than most people out here, and the ability to get more. Despite Cameron’s claims that he’s never been a good hunter, he has an intricate system of snares set up in the woods. We frequently catch rabbits and have seen deer roaming close by. All we need is a bow powerful enough to hunt, and we can start drying meat for the colder months.
The afternoon sun shines brightly as Cameron follows me in, dust motes drifting in the rays as his footsteps echo on the wooden floor.
“Oh, you naughty thing,” he teases, and I scrunch my face in confusion. “You and that organization kink… were you in here touching yourself while you make labels?”
“It would be hard to touch myself while writing labels,” I point out. “Also, I don’t have labels.”
“You’d figure it out, big guy,” he says with a pat to my stomach.
“Did you give Nyx the seeds?” I draw him in, wrapping my arms around his middle and pressing a kiss to his hair. The garden appears ready; the weeds are cleared, and the dirt is tilled. Rich, dark soil forms tiny rows that are just waiting for budding plants. With his race’s affinity for nature and his love of being outdoors, we thought it would be the perfect distraction to busy his mind, and something that doesn’t require talking. We gave him an assortment of everything so he can experiment and see what takes.
Something tells me it’s all going to flourish.
Cameron is quiet as he nods, cheek smooshed against my chest. “He stared at them for a long time, and you might have to explain what plants they’ll grow, but he…” Cameron releases a breathy puff of a laugh. “He spoke to me. ”
“What did he say?”
“ D’raste ,” he says, and I bite back my grin at his attempt at the inflection.
“It means ‘thank you.’”
Cameron smiles wider, his entire face lighting up with it. “Then he called me ‘frand Camroon,’ and I had to leave before I cried and lost my man card.” Just as I’m about to tease him, a noise catches both of our attention. Sharing a quick glance, we dart to the door.
“That sounds like a vehicle,” I mutter, and his lips pull tight as he nods. My face remains calm even as panic churns in my gut, climbing my throat and turning into bile at the thought of our sanctuary being discovered when we’ve barely just arrived.
My hand tightens around my sword, because I haven’t broken the habit of wearing it. “Go hide, Cameron. It’s safer for you to remain out of sight.”
“And what about you?” he hisses as the vehicle gets closer, the snapping of branches and cracking of gravel leaving no question that someone is headed our way.
“I will be better protected if you are hidden, and I don’t have to worry about you. It is not the time to be stubborn! Find somewhere to hide, and if something happens to me, you run.”
“Ronan—”
“You run , Cameron.” We glare at each other before he gives a frustrated growl, throwing his hands up in the air.
“If you die, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“Go!” I hiss, and he shakes his head and snarls as he grabs my neck and slams our mouths together.
“I love you, asshole.” And with that, he runs off, disappearing from sight. Crouched and ready, I position myself in the shadows between two houses. A black SUV appears a couple of minutes later, but it parks out of my view, forcing me to wait and assess the situation.
“You’re sure this is the place?” A blonde human man steps into view, around Cameron’s height but much broader, and I’m careful to remain unseen as I inch closer. “It looks like there are signs of life—”
His entire body stiffens, and he falters to a stop as my blade presses against his throat. “Who sent you?” I growl in his ear as his hands fly up in the air, showing me he’s unarmed.
Idiot.
“N-n-nobody sent us…” he stutters, and I laugh, my sword digging deeper.
“Try again.”
“Ronan!” Shock has me unblinking, my grip reflexively tightening on my sword as a very familiar blue face stares back at me from the other side of the vehicle. “Fuck’s sake, man, put that shit down.” When I only stare, Elas bares his teeth at me with a fierce protectiveness I’ve never seen from him. He rushes around the SUV, barreling closer like a charging bull. “ Now .”
“Elas?” My hold on the human loosens as I gawk, mouth hanging open.
“Is that a question? Is old age affecting you so much that you’re having a hard time remembering your oldest friend’s name?”
A snort interrupts him as Cameron walks out and places a gentle hand on my arm, pushing it aside and glaring at me until I sheath my weapon. The human darts away, tucking himself closer to Elas. “It’s so refreshing to hear someone else give him a hard time,” Cameron says to Elas, whose scowl flips to a grin. “Really sets the mood.”
“I told you to hide.” Cam just rolls his eyes at my growling, turning to the human and flashing him a giant smile.
“August! I’m so happy to see you outside of that place!”
The blonde man rushes forward, arms outstretched, as my lip pulls up in a snarl. “I will put this blade right back to your neck, human, if you so much as touch what is mine.”
“Here we go again,” Cameron says with a long-suffering sigh as August freezes, arms still suspended mid-air. “Drama queen.”
“Some things never change,” Elas agrees, and I bare my teeth at him, but he only chuckles. I finally concede with a heavy sigh.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask the onlytrue friend I've ever had, and unexpected emotions come to surface from his presence when I was convinced I’d never see him again. Warm fondness grows in my stomach as I realize how much I’d missed him, but I can’t let him see it or I’ll never hear the end of it. “And more importantly, how did you find us so I can make sure it never happens again?”
“That would be my fault,” a third voice says, and I raise my sword as I spin. “For fuck’s sake, man, how many times are we going to do this!?” Reyes stands halfway out of the backseat, warily watching my weapon.
“To be fair, you stabbed him last time,” Cameron says, and I snort as I lift my chin, nodding my agreement. “But it is a valid question… how did…” His finger swings between the three of them. “… this happen? It’s like the start of one of those jokes. A blueberry-colored soldier, a medic prisoner, and a rebel stowaway walk into a bar…”
Elas’s eyes soften as he throws an arm around my shoulders with a squeeze. “You’ve caused quite the ruckus, old friend.”
“We certainly figured that out,” I say dryly, but give him a one-armed hug, squeezing his shoulder as he shoots me a knowing smile.
“I’ve missed you, too, you grumpy fuck.” We both chuckle as he pulls away. “Everything spiraled after Commander Bravis went missing. August and I barely got away from base without raising suspicion.”
“Let me guess, you stumbled upon an abandoned rebel camp with a weird man living in a rat hole?”
“For the last time, I am not weird!” Reyes argues.
“How many days did it take him to come out of his lair, and—more importantly—did he stab you in the shoulde r?” Elas grins at Reyes before he slides his arm around August’s waist, and my brows lift when August leans into him, resting his head on his chest.
“I told you he’d still be mad about it,” Reyes says to Elas, who chuckles at him before returning his eyes to mine.
My brows raise even higher when Elas’s hand drops to August’s hip, fingers flexing in an extremely intimate way. “We’d been hiding there for a few days when I discovered the entrance to his underground room.”
“Wait,” I interrupt, slashing my hand in the air in front of me. “You found one of the hidden rooms?”
“Yep,” Elas says, flashing me a triumphant smirk before glancing at Reyes again. “And I told you he’d be pissed about that. ”
“It doesn’t count as you finding it since I lived there,” August points out, and Elas pouts as Cameron tilts his head. “I knew where the rooms were, it just took a few days before we realized someone was staying in them.”
“You ass,” I growl, and Elas’s grin is full of mischief. “Always trying to get one up on me.”
“Wait, hold up a second… you lived there?” Cameron asks.
“A long time ago, yeah.” August says, gesturing towards the curly-haired man. “Reyes came out—no stabbing involved—and after a few conversations, he finally told us about the pair of you raiding his camp.”
“We didn’t raid it,” I argue as Cameron snorts.
“We totally raided it,” he mutters, and I glare at my mate until he flashes me a beaming smile.
August chuckles. “You two are sweet together.” Cameron turns to him with that giant smile as he snuggles into my side, and I relent, wrapping my arm around his shoulder and pulling him closer.
“Anyway,” August continues, “we realized who it was right away.”
“Not many Anunians out in the wild?” I ask, and Elas snorts a laugh.
“Well, he described you as a ‘grumpy purple dude who likes to throw around a tall, skinny sarcastic guy with glasses,’ and oddly enough, it just clicked.” I narrow my eyes at Reyes, who shrugs as August continues. “When he figured out you and Elas were old friends, he told him your plan to find a village the two of you had raided. Elas knew immediately where you were headed.”
“I’m sure he did,” I say softly as I meet Elas’s gaze, who pulls his lips back in a sad smile. “There’s something you should know about this place, Elas. It was…” I trail off, glancing at Cameron beside me.
“This was my home,” he finishes for me, and Elas’s eyes flare. “I was out hunting when it was attacked.”
Elas’s mouth opens and closes a few times, his grip on August tightening. “Your… family?” he finally asks, voice strained.
“My mother was killed in the attack. She was the only family I had, so after… everything… I left.”
“I’m sorry,” Elas mutters, his brows drawn tight, but Cameron waves his hand.
“Ronan and I have been through this, too, Elas, and I don’t blame either of you for what happened.” Cameron leans over and reaches out to squeeze his arm when Elas’s gaze sharpens. He grabs Cameron’s hand and jerks him closer, pushing up his shirt sleeve and staring at his mark.
“You’ve both accepted the bond then,” he says, an enormous smile on his face as he looks between us.
Cameron and I glance at each other in surprise, and my eyes naturally fall to my golden-skinned palm. “We didn’t know what it meant when they changed.”
“How do you know what it meant when they changed?” Cameron asks, and Elas and August exchange a pointed look.
“Uh oh, that’s never good,” Cameron mutters, and I have to agree.
“Before we left the base, August was working in the medical labs when he came across some files.”
“And that’s also never good.” Cameron tucks himself back into my side, like I can protect him from whatever news we’re about to receive .
“Here… it’s easier to show you.” August walks around to the back of the SUV, waving for us to follow. He opens the hatch, and sitting inside are two giant heavy-duty cardboard boxes. ‘ Mates ’ is written across the side of both in thick, concise script. “There were more,” August explains as I stare at the boxes, and he lifts the lid to show the first one stuffed to the brim with papers. “Lots more, but this was all we had the opportunity to grab.”
“You aren’t the first set of mates,” Elas blurts, and shock crosses his expression as we both nod our agreement.
“We know.” I pull out a file, the manila cover handwritten with ‘Grushna and Elizabeth ’ and stamped with a label that makes my pulse race.
Ljómur.
There’s complete silence as we all stare at each other until Reyes breaks it. “Who is that?” he whispers, and all our heads turn as Nyx appears at the edge of the forest, eyes enormous.
“It would seem we have some things to discuss,” I say, nodding my head towards our house. “Come on inside and let’s get comfortable. Something tells me it’s going to be a long night.”