Epilogue – Evangeline
1 Year Later
I t’s been a year since I killed Magnus.
The day after I permanently turned him to stone, the Council of Gargoyle Elders arrived and took his petrified form back to Paris—it surprisingly didn’t shatter to a million pieces after falling to the ground. Thankfully, the area below had been evacuated by Xander’s soldiers during the battle.
Elara was also sent back to Paris and put on trial. She was cleared after a seer was brought in to seek her truth. They discovered Magnus had kidnapped her fated mate three years ago and had been holding her captive for years while he formed his plan to steal the throne from Xander. Elara had no choice but to help him, and he used her as a spy, forcing her to request to be put in Xander’s army .
She still has to be monitored, and she’s now serving in her father’s army, where he can watch her as well. Her fated mate was also saved from captivity after one of Magnus’s captured soldiers was tortured for information on her whereabouts.
My father discovered my mother was released from the hospital and fought to recommit her. He argued that he never gave me power of attorney, but with his signature on the papers, he was unable to prove otherwise, and a judge ruled in my favor.
He confronted me after we left the courtroom. He demanded I tell him how I did it. I claimed it was all his idea. We went back and forth for a few minutes before he accused me of being ‘just as crazy as your mother.’
Guess I am.
Xander and I bought my mother a house in the suburbs where she lives with Birdie—who I visit as much as possible. Mom spends her days gardening, practicing spells, or just enjoying a life of freedom.
We meet for dinner once a week, too, where she shares more stories that have me wondering if they’re ones she made up or visions of mine and Xander’s future.
My favorite is the story of the half-gargoyle, half-human prince who grows up to be a warrior and takes over an expansive kingdom when his father decides to retire .
Xander will be able to travel the world when he hands over the throne to our child.
Not that we’re pregnant. I’m not. We still haven’t decided when to have kids. We’re enjoying each other too much right now.
Plus, today is our wedding day.
“Do gargoyles get old?” I ask, putting on my makeup.
We decided to keep the wedding small and nontraditional. No church, no white dress, and no believing the superstition that it’s bad luck for the groom and bride to see each other before the wedding.
I wanted to get ready in the same room as my future husband and spend every last second of my old life with him before becoming Evangeline Basque.
“Of course we do. I’m 1,000 years old.”
“No, I mean like old and wrinkled, gray hairs and shit.”
He chuckles as he buttons up his shirt.
“Gargoyles who reach five digits get wrinkles and gray hair.”
My mouth drops open.
“There are gargoyles who are 10,000 years old?!”
“My grandfather, who is head of the Council of Gargoyle Elders, is one of them. He’s 12,436 to be exact. He once protected early civilizations in Turkey. ”
“Holy shit. That’s…old. But fascinating! I’d love to meet him. Your father too. I really hate the rule that tethers you to New York City.”
He gives himself one more glance in the mirror and turns to me.
My handsome king. He wears a simple black dress shirt and pants paired with a black buckle and shoes.
I’m wearing a pastel yellow sundress. My hair is piled up in a messy updo.
He is the night, and I am the sun.
Since I’m still technically human, I’m able to go out during the day, but our wedding is being held a few minutes after sunset on the rooftop of our apartment building—the one damaged during the battle that Xander and his soldiers spent months rebuilding.
“Ready?” I ask, reaching for my king.
Even with heels, I’m nowhere near as tall as him. My head barely reaches his chest, forcing him to lean down to kiss me.
“Ready.”
The ceremony will be quick and simple, because everything else in our lives has been complicated. Xander walks me down the aisle, since my father is no longer in my life. The guest list is small. My mother and my bestie Farrah—who thinks I’m getting married to another human—and about a dozen of Xander’s soldiers, including Locheran and Thorne.
I haven’t seen much of Thorne ever since he was reassigned to protect the new vampire queen nearly eight months ago. It’s part of a unity plan to eventually reveal supernatural beings to the human world.
Xander’s not quite sold on the idea, but next week there’s some big supernatural conference being held here in the Big Apple that he has to attend to discuss the serious topic.
So much for a honeymoon, not that we could leave the city.
A gargoyle chaplain leads the ceremony, per gargoyle law, and reads us our vows, which we repeat in front of our witnesses.
“I, Evangeline Bishop-Whethers, promise to love my fated mate and king until the day my heart no longer beats. I will stand by him in sickness and in health. I promise to keep the secrets of his kind. I swear to provide the king with at least one heir, though I wouldn’t mind more.”
The attendees laugh at that.
“I, Xander Basque, promise to cherish my queen, to love her until the day my heart no longer beats. I will stand by her side in sickness and in health and provide her with all the heirs she desires. ”
Simple vows, but ones full of love and devotion.
The reception is held inside Xander’s penthouse, and we all sip on wine and snack on finger foods. Locheran acts as a DJ, and we dance through the night. My mother left early, and an hour before sunrise, we say our goodbyes to the remaining guests: Locheran and Farrah.
This is only the second time I’ve seen my bestie in the past year. The first time she visited me was on my forty-first birthday in August. She was uncomfortable the entire night. She refused to make eye contact with Xander, and she kept sneering at Locheran, even with both gargoyles in their model-esque human forms.
I tried asking her what was wrong, but she waved off my concern, blaming exhaustion from work and family drama. We don’t talk as much since I moved away. I’m such a horrible friend.
I worried she wouldn’t accept the wedding invitation, but she called me, crying with excitement, the moment it arrived in the mail.
“Okay, calling each other king and queen was cute, but what did you mean when you said in your vows that you’ll keep the secrets of his kind?” Farrah asks after giving me a hug. She looks stunning tonight. Her fiery red hair falls in chaotic curls around her head. She’s wearing a green dress that drapes over her curves like liquid. It has a v-neck that showcases her plentiful cleavage. She’s my height, but the pumps she's wearing tonight has her towering over me. “And you said something about fated mates and heirs? I mean, Xander’s rich, but that’s a weird way to say you plan to have kids. Also, how many can you pop out in your forties?”
She’s wasted, and anytime Farrah gets drunk, the filter between her thoughts and mouth disappears.
Aside from the comment about me popping out kids in my forties, I ignore her valid questions and push my friend toward the door.
“You’re drunk!” I say with a giggle.
She laughs too. “Guess I am!”
“Locheran!” I yell for my mate’s best friend. “Can you walk Farrah to a guest apartment?”
He narrows his eyes at me.
“I am your queen, you know,” I say low enough that I know he can hear me, but Farrah can’t. “Don’t you have to follow my orders?”
He rolls his eyes.
“Yes, Your Majesty .”
Farrah’s cheeks flare red as Locheran approaches, and she quickly looks away. Okay, this is progress. Maybe she doesn’t really hate him. Maybe she’s intimidated by him. To be fair, Locheran is a cocky asshole sometimes, and he exudes playboy alphahole, especially to people he wants to push away.
I think he’s worried I’ll kick his ass if he gets involved with Farrah and ends up breaking her heart.
He’s right. I would.
I’m still holding out hope that they’re fated mates, but Xander says if they were, the connection would have revealed itself by now.
“My lady,” he says and holds out his arm.
Farrah lets out a shaky breath and accepts his escort and the two stumble down the hallway to the elevator.
Xander comes up behind me and kisses my neck.
“Hello, wife. ”
“Hello, husband. ”
“My queen.”
I turn around and stand on my tiptoes to give him a kiss.
“You know,” I say when we part, “I’ve been thinking about the Kiss-meet app. I don’t remember downloading it.”
Xander’s brows furrow. “Huh, I don’t either. I assumed Locheran put it on my phone, but when I asked him, he said no. I thought I was going crazy and maybe downloaded it and forgot.”
I push at Xander’s chest to lead him to the bedroom. “Maybe it was destiny. ”
“Then we better not let destiny down.”
“Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
Xander beams at me. “No, tell me again.”
“Only if you tell me first.”
“I love you, I love you, I love you—”
“Okay! I get it,” I giggle.
He scoops me up into his arms and we spend our wedding night thanking the mysterious app that paired us together.
The End