Epilogue
GRACIE
Our home was a mess, in the best way possible.
I stepped over a scattered pile of wooden blocks, then a stuffed wolf missing one ear, and then a small boot that had somehow ended up in the middle of the hallway. Despite being four years old—or maybe because of it—June and Cal still managed to leave a trail wherever they went.
Basir mused it was a territorial thing, that they were trying to mark their space. Considering how loud their wolves already were, I absolutely believed it.
My hand rested comfortably against the curve of my stomach as I made my way toward the main room, the ache in my lower back a familiar companion these days.
Three more months. I still wasn’t entirely used to the idea of a third, even after everything the twins had already taught me about being a mom.
I did have to admit the back pain was a lot less with this pregnancy, so that was a plus.
I paused at the photo hanging just outside the bedroom, the way I always did.
Ravik in his ceremonial coat, Thornar with his collar deliberately loosened despite Elowen’s protests, Basir looking almost uncomfortable in front of the camera until the exact moment the shutter clicked, when he’d looked at me and forgotten the lens entirely.
Ironsun Pack, namely Ravik’s parents, had wanted a formal ceremony, and I hadn’t seen any reason not to oblige them.
It was odd, because even though the guest list had been expansive, including every Alpha from the eight territories of Thornfell, it still felt private.
It was so big and so overwhelming that it somehow felt like just my mates and me at the center of it.
I’d never imagined my wedding before, but it had been a genuinely special night. That was seven years ago now, my mates insisting we not wait. The ring on my finger, a heavy citrine diamond, didn’t sit quite as comfortably these days considering my fingers were swelling.
The light caught it as I moved, and I remembered how Ravik had insisted on getting it for me despite the bond already marking me his in every way that mattered. Some things, he’d said, deserved to be seen, not just felt.
I could hear them now, down the hall. Ravik’s low voice, the one he used when he was pretending to be stern. Thornar’s laugh, echoing loudly through the home, the way it always did. Basir’s quieter murmur underneath both of them.
I picked a small shirt up off the floor, tossed it toward the hamper, and smiled at the sound of my family filling the room.
Seven years since the war. Seven years since I’d knelt in front of a fire and watched the Cold Moon Pack’s flag turn to ash. It still didn’t feel real some days, how far Thornfell had come since then.
The Council met monthly now instead of weekly, which Deegan liked to point out was a more accurate indicator of “peace” than anything else.
Trade routes ran freely between territories that used to eye each other with suspicion.
Grimfur Skulk, under Edie’s steady hand, had rebuilt itself into something almost unrecognizable from the place the Cinder Ring had once claimed.
Even the land around what used to be Cold Moon Pack had started to green again, slowly and cautiously, much like the people who were still healing from Ivan’s cruelty.
Basir’s reconnaissance network had grown far beyond what any of us had expected in those early months, a web of scouts that now stretched across every territory.
It was nothing like the desperate scramble it had started as.
Quiet now, efficient, and it made him feel like he was doing everything in his power to protect our family.
Thornar’s training program had become one of Thornfell’s proudest institutions, soldiers rotating through every territory before they settled into a permanent post. He complained constantly about the paperwork and loved every second of it anyway.
He had even recruited June and Cal to organize the papers, which led to extra paperwork when they started to draw on them.
And Ravik. Ravik had stepped fully into leadership of the Ironsun Pack over the past two years, ever since Deegan handed him the reins with more relief than reluctance.
He led differently than his father had, more personable in some ways and sharper in others, but Ironsun trusted him completely—and so did I.
We’d built something real out of the wreckage.
I thought about that most as I moved through our home with a third child growing beneath my hand.
In the seven years we’d been together, the want hadn’t faded.
If anything, it had only rooted deeper. Some mornings Thornar still looked at me like it was the first time we met on the stairs and he’d called me “little flame.” Basir still reached for my hand in a room full of people, finding comfort in our bond.
Ravik still found reasons to steal me away from whatever the day required, just for a few minutes, just to remind me I was loved.
Marriage hadn’t dulled any of it. If anything, it had given the want somewhere to live.
I walked into the kitchen and found a fine dusting of flour coating the counters, the floor, and, somehow, the ceiling.
The living space was far more crowded than it had been those first days, but I loved the connection of it, no walls between where the kids played and where we cooked.
Low couches in warm cream were now worn soft from years of small feet climbing over them, some spots marked up with markers and stickers.
The fireplace mantel was crowded with framed artwork from the twins.
The twins, who were covered in flour.
“We’re making macawoons,” June announced, drawing out the word the only way a four-year-old could.’
“Are you?” I mused, surveying the damage.
“Daddy said I could pick the color!” Cal held up a bowl of batter dyed an aggressive shade of purple. “I picked purple.”
I’d perfected the recipe over the last two years, mostly out of stubbornness after failing at it spectacularly the first dozen times. It had become something of a ritual, one Saturday a month, to teach two four-year-olds that folding batter did not mean stirring it as hard as possible.
“I love purple!” I reached for a rag to wipe down the counter, but a hand intercepted mine, gently wrapping around my wrist. Basir offered me a knowing look.
“You don’t need to straighten up, glow.” He dipped his head and brushed a kiss to my lips.
“Relax and sit down; you’ve been cleaning all day. ”
Nesting would have been a better word.
“Mommy, look!” June giggled as Cal tried to lick batter directly off his elbow.
“This is chaos,” I murmured, but I listened to Basir and sat down. His hand smoothed over my back as I leaned into him, watching our twins continue their descent into chaos.
My gaze wandered while June and Cal tried to shape the purple macawoons, the batter broken and thick, dolloping them onto a cooking sheet on the counter.
June thwacked a particularly difficult bit onto the sheet, sending it flying.
It landed on a small shelf above the window, right over the sink, where two carved figures sat.
One was a crescent moon wrapped in shadow, the other a small wolf caught mid-stride, somewhere between running and standing still.
We didn’t often go to shrines, nor did we have an altar. But we kept these small tokens as a way to keep the two of them close without asking anything more. I still lit a candle beneath them some nights—not out of obligation anymore, just gratitude.
Ravik crossed the room, setting the twins’ artwork he’d gathered from the coffee table onto the island. His hand found mine, thumb brushing over my knuckles in that absent, automatic way he’d had since the very beginning.
“How late were you up last night?” I asked, noticing the faint circles under his eyes. “You should rest.”
Basir hummed in amusement, and I shot him a teasing look since he’d literally just said that to me.
“With the conference coming up, and us bringing the kids, I’d rather be overprepared,” he said, drinking from the coffee mug he’d left on the island.
His finger reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear as I offered him a soft smile.
After seven years we all looked a bit different, but I swear my mates only got more attractive with age.
I could see the faintest silver at Ravik’s temples, and it was beyond attractive.
Thornar got up from the couch a moment later, catching Cal mid-sprint with a fistful of purple batter and clear intentions of using it as paint on our walls.
He hauled our son up into the air, Cal squealing with excitement before Thornar set him back down.
When he dropped into the chair across from me, I stood and rounded the table to him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
“How were the meetings?”
“Good, although a few of those bastards need to get their heads on straight.”
“Maybe they were having a rough day,” I mused.
“Little flame,” he murmured against my hair, “you’re getting soft.”
“I’m pregnant, not soft.”
“Soft,” he repeated, grinning. “In the best way.” He kissed my temple, the kind of casual affection he never made a big deal out of.
“Owen texted,” I said, glancing at my phone on the counter. “They’re still coming tonight before the conference starts tomorrow.”
“Good.” Basir straightened, wiping his hands on a towel. “They’ll be a good distraction so you don’t get in your head, glow.”
I huffed. “I just want everything to be perfect before the delegations arrive.”
“You’ve worked for months on this,” Ravik pointed out. “Even though you didn’t have to.”
It was true; I’d put a lot of work into Thornfell’s Trade Conference. We went whenever it was held, but hosting it here in Ironsun Pack territory seemed special to me. So special that I planned on wearing a very similar ivory dress to the one I’d worn that first time.
“How’s Ever doing?” Thornar asked Basir. My nephew, who was nine now, was a different kid than the toddler we’d met that first time. Talking wasn’t an issue now. He talked a lot and had a lot of opinions—almost as many as Jackie.
Basir smiled. “Good—really good. He has too much power for his age, to the point that it’s making it difficult to make friends in school, but he’s managing it.”
I had no doubt Owen and Nori, with their calm patience and warmth, made it easier for him to temper the aggression that would come naturally to him as an Alpha. I was glad they’d stayed in Ironsun Pack territory, though. I was glad they were such a large part of our life.
“Oh! I almost forgot: Elowen said she won’t be able to attend any sessions.” I looked at Thornar specifically. “She’s too far along, and I quote, ‘to sit and listen to idiots.’”
Thornar chuckled as Ravik shook his head in amusement. “Which means I shouldn’t expect Banthor’s help.”
“Correct. He never leaves her side.” Basir lifted June up and helped her place a lopsided purple shell on the counter for my inspection. I gave her a big smile and whispered that it was perfect.
“Once they have the baby and this new little one arrives,” I said, patting my belly, “your mom and dad are going to be busy. I know they don’t mind. I mean, they’re literally watching the twins through every session, but I still feel bad.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Ravik mused. “My dad loves an opportunity to show the kids around.”
“He also tells them gossip,” Thornar added. “Your mom told me that.”
I laughed because it was pretty funny, but also out of relief.
Deegan may have stepped down from his position as Alpha, but he was a fixture in Ironsun Pack.
He was also in better health and spirits than he had been in over a decade.
It had been a long process of figuring out what would work, but he hadn’t used the cane in over two years.
“He tells our four-year-olds the territories’ gossip?” Ravik asked, then sighed. “Sounds right.”
“Solenne said your mom and Isara are part of the gossip train,” I pointed out. “I honestly think they just want to gossip, and they know the kids can’t say anything.”
My mates laughed as Basir asked, “Are the two of them doing the opening blessing?”
“No way they would give that up.” Thornar shook his head.
“Who are you texting?” I asked Ravik.
“Siguun. I’d hoped he would be around since Banthor won’t be, but they’re still out in Bloodrose Sloth territory.”
“Good for them!”’ I waved my hand. They were on their honeymoon! “We’ll be fine.”
Suddenly, a knock sounded on the door. June and Cal squealed and rushed toward it, Thornar making an amused sound as he followed after them.
“That’s them,” I said, already moving toward the sink to rinse the flour and purple dye off my hands before I hugged anyone. Basir and Ravik helped straighten up the kitchen, just enough that it wasn’t a complete disaster.
The water ran warm over my fingers. I watched it run pink, then clear, and for just a moment I was standing somewhere else entirely.
A day before the TTC, at a sink in Ivan’s kitchen, preparing dinner with my head down.
The day before my whole life was altered into something I never could have imagined.
I dried my hands on the towel Basir passed me without being asked, and went to let my family in.
Thank you for reading the conclusion to Gracie’s story!