Epilogue
Melia brought out a massive five-tiered cake dripping with candied pansies and raspberries, her features lit in a dazzling smile.
“Happy Anniversary!”
My cheeks pinked, torn between embarrassment and a desire to remind her I’d wanted a small party. Not the behemoth she and Coral had somehow morphed this into.
Then again, there was no stopping my cousin once she sank her teeth into an idea. She excelled at parties and festivities, anniversaries being only one of many on a list she checked off annually.
“Ten years.” Coral sighed and shook her head. “It should have been me.”
Mike reached for my hand and twined our fingers together. Coral might not have caught his eye roll, but I did and stifled a laugh.
“If you want the responsibility, then by all means,” I told my cousin. “He really snores at night. It’s awful. And the first thing he does in the morning is blow his nose. It sounds like a bomb going off.”
Coral’s expression soured. “Yeah, I think I’m good. I like being single.”
“No more dreams of the monarchy and a crown on your head?” Melia teased. She still held the five-tiered monstrosity of a cake in front of her, steadily.
“I’m the right hand of the queen. No one in this city has more power than me.
” Coral gestured out tot the transformed garden where friends and family gathered among the roses and strings of twinkling fae lights.
Doug and Julie stood to one side, his hand on the small of her back and the other on her belly.
They were a family unit now, or soon would be.
Coral had also taken it upon herself to move the statue of Dorian Jade from its respectable perch of the last decade. Tonight she’d adorned him with a jaunty hat angled over his stone forehead and a line of streamers draping off his arms. Overkill.
I’d never tell her.
“Sure. You’re the right hand of the queen.
” Melia snorted and set the cake down on the table with the other delicacies: fried squash blossoms, dates stuffed with goat cheese and drizzled with honey, figs and antipasto.
A vase of morsana flowers dotted the center of the spread. Elfwaite balanced on one of the petals.
“I made it myself, no magic,” Melia took pleasure in explaining.
“One layer is vanilla, because everyone loves vanilla. The next layer is carrot cake, because I used to catch Mike devouring it at the Academy. Then I did chocolate with pecans, followed by strawberries and cream. And the top layer is for you, Tavi. It’s mocha with a little bit of cinnamon and cayenne for a sweet and spicy kick. Just like you.”
“You did all the rosettes by hand too, Meli?” I asked. My heart clenched at the gesture.
“She did,” Coral affirmed. “I watched her. It took hours. She turned your kitchens into a war zone.”
“I’m sure Una loved that,” I muttered. Our new chef to replace Raelynn, Una was a Dryad we welcomed from Lesheno’s court. If I’d thought Raelynn was strict, Una gave the Fae a run for her money.
Hours of work and preparation, all for this.
I glanced around the circle of people pressing closer, and with a snap of her fingers Coral lit the sparklers on top of the cake.
Melia had arranged ten of them in a circle, one for every year Mike and I had been official.
If we wanted to get unofficial, we’d need a few more sparklers.
And being Fae magic, they’d burn until one of us uttered the counterspell to turn them off.
Bronwen should be here.
The thought burst to life at least once a day, a painful reminder.
Despite the celebration and the joy of having my loved ones close, the tendril of shame and loss, as always, darkened inside of me.
I’d miss her until the day I left this mortal coil, but unfortunately that meant a whole lot of years to deal with her loss.
Maybe we should have put sparklers on the cake for our fallen.
“Hey. I know.” Mike brushed a kiss to my temple. “I miss them too.”
“They’d be really happy to see you all here. To know that you’re alive,” Elfwaite added with a flutter of wings.
I cleared my throat. “Well, I’m happy to have you here, anyway.”
Julie had stepped in as a kind of surrogate mom, the unexpected kind who took her job more seriously than I thought she would. Or should. Now she and Doug were expecting their own brood, and part of me really wanted to see what kind of chaos their children would turn their house into.
But I wasn’t volunteering to babysit.
“Cut the damn cake already,” Doug growled. “I’m starving.” Julie elbowed him. Her crush on Officer Allen hadn’t turned into much. But apparently a surly werewolf detective could win her heart.
Coral clapped her hands. “No more tears. We’ve cried enough and I don’t want to smear my makeup.” She flicked a finger underneath her eyes like she’d ruined her mascara. “Let’s sing!”
Melia scoffed.
“This isn’t a birthday celebration,” Nexa reminded us.
“I know, but it’s an anniversary celebration, Mom,” Coral corrected.
“Then how about we start singing when we get to the actual milestones. Like, say, twenty-five?” I tried.
“Fifty!” Melia said, bouncing from foot to foot. “Fifty years of Tavi and Michael. To the Thornwoods!”
After ten years, I still wasn’t comfortable with sharing his father’s name. Some traumas were too dark or deep to unpack easily. They took time. I had so little of that now.
So Coral sang her song anyway, and her mother dutifully added her beautiful alto to the mix while Melia clapped along with the jaunty words. Mike and I waited dutifully through the accolades while Elfwaite watched over our shoulder.
Poppy showed up late, her grumble cutting off Coral’s song, her swords sheathed but reeking of something better left unnamed.
With Mike’s hand in mine, we both muttered the counterspell together and the sparklers fizzled out. The others clapped when he took up the knife and cut slices of cake for everyone.
Cake didn’t matter more than our family. They were important, the family we’d made, the shadows and shackles of the past nothing compared to their light.
And yet…there were times when none of it felt real.
I’d wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, in a pure panic, remembering the glint of Dorian Jade’s eyes. Or the pain of loss watching my parents together in the afterlife.
Those things didn’t really leave you. They only waited for the moments when our guard lowered.
Mike handed me a slice of cake. “Love you.”
My heart fell into an easier rhythm. “Love you more.”
Being with him anchored me to the present, and the sun shone brighter, sensing the moment our magic sang together.
Melia let out a whoop of delight the others took up eagerly. People packed the garden from edge to edge beneath a perfect sky. Summer’s approach. Another year of festivities with the Solstice Carnival and the Wild Hunt.
When the party ended and the castle fell silent again, Mike grabbed my hand. The darkness welcomed us as part of its own on our way through the forest.
“You’re starting the hunt early, Thornwood,” I warned breathlessly, jogging after him. “The guards are going to have a hell of a time keeping up with you if these are the games you play.”
He held tight to my hand, turning, walking backward, his eyes spearing me. “I know damn well you spelled them so they didn’t notice our escape.”
I huffed.” Got to have some privacy with my husband, right?”
A wicked smile curved his lips. “Tonight is our hunt, love.” He nipped my earlobe. “This time when you run, I’m going to catch you. And I’m going to mark you here.”
He kissed my temple.
“And here.”
My neck.
I shivered. “With the goddess watching?”
“With her blessing.”
Then he kissed my lips, and his kiss struck me like a lance of lightning. And I knew better than anyone what it felt like to hold lightning inside of me.
Mike angled his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding across mine. Mine. This was my mate and there was no going back. No matter what came our way, we were in this together.
He broke away from me to stare, our eyes locked.
“I told you not to look at me like that,” I whispered.
Mike’s gaze didn’t flinch. “You said it centuries ago,” he joked. “I’m still not listening.”
He never would.
Our magic crackled and burned. My wolf stirred. And for one terrifying, perfect second, I wondered what would happen to us if I ever actually stopped fighting fate.
Then power surged again, wild and silver-bright, disrupting my balance. But Mike was there to catch me with his hands on my waist. Steady. Close.
My grip on his shirt didn’t loosen. “You don’t think we’ll regret this?” I whispered.
His smile was calm, gentle. Assured and confident. “Us? Nah.”
The two of us, together forever.
Where the hell would we go next?
THE END
Thank you for coming with me on this journey to the finale of the Fae Academy for Halflings.