Epilogue
“Can we see it?”
There was a tap on the door of my art studio again.
Cade was so impatient. I should never have told him I was almost done.
As I eyed the canvas, nerves fluttered in my stomach.
I’d taken up painting again, and it was a relief to be able to create pieces without the fear of them being burned right in front of me.
Just for speaking when ‘I wasn’t allowed’.
Father’s death hadn’t weighed on me. In reality, it’d been a relief, and the emotion I struggled with was how guilty that made me. It didn’t take long for that to go away.
“Eva,” Cade called again. I couldn’t stop the corners of my lips from twitching.
In all the time they’d spent reassuring and loving me, they’d needed the same tenderness. All their lives, they’d been devoid of genuine care.
“Fine,” I huffed, unable to deny them. The door opened without hesitation, and all three of them entered. I stepped back so they could see the canvas.
This was my home now too. Our home, and I wanted to offer something to mark it as such, but the lines were all wrong on my face, meanwhile, they looked perfect. The brushstrokes captured the sharp edges of their faces, and the underlying wildness in their gazes.
All of them were too quiet.
I cleared my throat. “Do you like it?”
The uncertainty in my voice made me cringe. I wasn’t the doubtful type. Cade reached his hand out and hovered over my painted face in the middle of all three. Rafe smacked his hand before he touched it.
“It has to go up,” Dorian said, voice soft.
“I’ll get the nails.” Rafe strode out of the room.
Cade grabbed the canvas.
“Hey!” I exclaimed.
All of them were gone. I rushed out after them and into the living room.
Rafe came in with a ladder in one arm, a hammer in the other while two nails poked out from between his lips, and a pencil stuck out from behind his ear.
Dorian took the ladder and opened it for Rafe who shoved the nails in his pocket and climbed up.
He reached down, and Cade handed him the large canvas.
I dropped onto the end of the couch, amazed at the change in my life.
“A little higher on the left,” Dorian ordered.
Rafe adjusted the painting. The couch dipped under Cade’s weight making me sink toward him.
“What’s happening in that beautiful head?” Cade asked, throwing his arm over my shoulder.
I smiled at him and nestled into his side. Cade rubbed his hand over my arm, warming me with friction.
I watched Dorian and Rafe as they hung the painting, happier than I ever thought I’d be as Ironwyld Pack’s Omega.
Thank you so so much for reading!