Epilogue Aiden
One year later
The roar of the crowd is still vibrating through the soles of my boots, but inside the familiar locker room of the Foundry, the air is quiet and still save for Jed’s excitable, grounding babbling. My favourite sound.
My knuckles are throbbing beneath the sweat-soaked wraps, raw and aching, but the heavy gold belt resting on the bench beside me makes every strike worth it.
First heavyweight omega division fight in Foundry history. In American history.
First belt. My belt.
“Hold still, champ,” Jed murmurs, his grin dazzlingly wide as he carefully snips through the tape on my left wrist. His touch is as steady as it always is, but I can sense the pride spilling out into his scent.
“I won, Jed,” I say, the words still feeling surreal on my tongue. “Main event. Six rounds.”
“I was there, baby,” he grins, tossing the shredded tape into the trash and pressing a hard, lingering kiss to my lips, not caring about the sweat coating every square inch of skin. “Told you you'd ruin him.”
An hour later, the adrenaline has finally simmered down to a low, cozy thrum. We’ve snuck out through the back alley, bypassing the after-party pressure, and ended up at a low-lit tattoo parlor tucked away three blocks from the venue. The shop smells like green soap, rubbing alcohol, and fresh ink.
“You're sure about this?” Jed asks, leaning against the counter while the beta tattoo artist preps her station. He’s eyeing me with that brilliant smile that still makes me feel like I’m walking on air.
“You hate spontaneous decisions, Aid. Remember when I suggested we buy that pink couch and you had a full existential crisis?”
“The gray one was the right dimensions,” I shoot back, sitting back in the leather chair and rolling up my right sleeve. “And yes, I'm sure. Put '10:04' right here on the inner forearm,” I tell the artist, tapping my wrist. “The exact minute the ref raised my hand.”
It’s not my first ink—I didn’t take much convincing to take the plunge after we started dating, and Jed convinced me that getting a tattoo wasn’t going to instantly make me an untouchable omega in his eyes—but it is the first one that hasn’t been carefully planned.
Jed chuckles, shaking his head, but his eyes soften as he watches her stenciling the numbers onto my skin. “Look at you. Reckless.”
“Your turn,” I say, nodding toward the stencil paper in the artist's hand. “Unless you're backing out.”
“Me? Never.” Jed takes the chair next to mine, shucking his shirt off to expose the bare patch of skin right over his collarbone, just across from the koi curling over his pec.
For a guy who’s spent his life jumping headfirst into fights, odd jobs, and chaotic decisions without a second thought, Jed has never once gotten a tattoo without picking it off a wall on a whim.
But tonight is different. This one he’s been planning for months, first sketching it out on the back of an old receipt while sitting at the kitchen table on the night we moved in together.
As the needle begins its sharp, rhythmic buzzing against his skin, I watch his profile. His jaw tightens, an easy smirk playing on his lips despite the sting.
The design takes shape: a delicate firefly, its body outlined in fine lines, resting right over his heart.
“How's it feeling?” I ask softly, reaching over to catch his hand. He squeezes my fingers tight, his thumb rubbing over my sore knuckles.
“Doesn't burn half as bad as that right hook you took to the cheek,” he grins, flicking his bright blue eyes to mine.
“Go fuck yourself, Harrison,” I laugh happily, and he squeezes my hand as I hiss through the pain of the needle against my own flesh.
Jed looks down at the fresh ink, his expression morphing into something so soft, I question how I ever could have questioned that what we felt for each other was real from the start.
I squeeze his hand back, the fresh ink on my forearm burning in tandem with his.
A year ago, I was looking for a gym that wouldn't treat me like a liability. Now, sitting under the harsh neon lights with a heavyweight belt at my feet and Jed’s fingers laced through mine, I’m pretty sure I’ve found the only place I ever belonged.
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