Epilogue
Aidan woke in his bed, every inch of the blankets in territories unknown.
Not unknown. Wrapped around his wife, as usual.
He had finally gotten her into a proper bed, and she was quite right—she did steal all of the blankets. And the sheets. And the pillows.
And he had not had a nightmare in weeks.
He would have one again, probably. They would creep out of the night, but they felt like dreams now and no longer like premonitions.
He had survived the moon, the Cauldron. The kittens who delighted in attacking his ankles if he dared let one drop from the mattress.
He would survive it all again and again for the chance to wake up next to Sorcha.
She opened one eye, green as leaves. “It’s the full moon.”
The pearly light came through the window, landed in perfect squares on the floor. “Aye.”
“Are you ready?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you ready, songbird?”
She grinned and kicked free of the blankets. She was fully dressed, right down to her boots. “Aye,” she mocked him. “I’m ready.”
And then she darted for the door at a full run as a laugh rumbled in his chest, knowing he would follow her.
He would follow her anywhere.
“Run, my love. Run.”