Epilogue
Dalton
Christmas Day, one year later
A visit to the Van der Horn mansion is a very different affair when you come as a guest instead of having to sleep in a small, cold room in the basement.
The place looks freakishly similar to the old aristocratic homes we visited during mine and Corvus’s honeymoon in Europe, only there are TVs, and some of the portraits hanging on the walls feature the people I’ve had Christmas breakfast with.
Oh, and instead of using a thin mattress on the floor, I’ve been sleeping in a canopied bed. With my husband.
How crazy is that?
Despite all the joy of getting married to someone as amazing as Corvus, dark thoughts kept telling me he’s going to see all my faults just like all the men before him, but a year on he’s still sleeping in my bed. Still laughing at my jokes. Still shaking with the thrill of my touch.
Maybe I’ve simply needed to find the right person all along.
We usually have our morning coffee on the balcony, then jog in the park, and pick up breakfast on the way back, and we try to stick to that routine even when we travel for work.
Yes, we, because now that I’ve graduated from an advanced training program supplying the security of the important and wealthy, I’m officially my husband’s bodyguard.
Having to be away from him for weeks was more difficult than I could have imagined, but it was all worth it, because even Karl Van der Horn can’t now imply I’m not qualified for the job.
And while being rich is definitely a perk of both my job and relationship, I’d have Corvus in my tiny studio too, because he cares for me and respects me in ways I’ve never before experienced.
He never implies I’m too dense to understand something, never belittles me, and tells me secrets he probably shouldn’t.
We have trust in one another, and I’m determined to always prove it to him that I’m worthy of the attention he bestows on me.
In the morning, we spent time with the whole family, including kids, sharing little presents, but now that we’re back in the giant room we call home while we’re here, we can exchange more personal gifts.
Corvus insisted on me changing quickly, since we don’t have that much time until the Christmas hunt, which makes me worry a little whether he forgot about gifts altogether.
We went on a shopping spree before arriving here, and we treated ourselves to several things like clothes, snow boots and the like, so maybe he hadn’t considered anything more. In that case, I’ll keep my gift secret until his birthday, to not make him feel awkward.
“Ready?” I yell, because he’s in the walk-in closet, and how long can a man choose a sweater? On the other hand, I do love to see him all sharp and polished, so I shouldn’t be complaining.
“So impatient,” he says, emerging with a huge package wrapped in green paper. “Merry Christmas. Sorry, the store wrapped it all wrong, so I needed… to amend their mistake,” he says, offering me the box.
I beam at him, on my feet in no time. I feel like a kid in a way I never got to experience before Corvus. I never had fun Christmases or received thoughtful gifts. Not only is he my dream come true, but also shows me that I’m worth caring for, that I don’t have to carry it all on my shoulders.
“And Merry Christmas to you, husband!” I grab my own gift first since it’s just an envelope, but we still have a bit of a dance to exchange presents. “What is it?” I ask even though I’ll be unpacking it within seconds. I’m that excited, but so is he, so I tell him to see what I got him first.
I’ve planned and booked a trip to Provence for us both. We’ll learn about the history of perfuming, visit masters of the craft, and other places related to Corvus’s interest in perfume, while also sleeping in a castle and eating amazing food.
I knew he’d be delighted, but he borderline climbs me, happy as a kid that’s gotten the car of his dreams for his sixteenth birthday, and while his joy is all the reward I need, I am also very keen to unpack my own gift.
The package isn’t too heavy, but I place it on the bed for convenience, then rip apart the wrapping paper. Inside is a simple cardboard box, which soon reveals a crossbow belonging on the wall of some medieval lord. It has fancy carvings and everything!
“For today’s hunt,” Corvus tells me and traces his finger over a little plaque featuring our initials and the date of our wedding.
My heart melts. He knows how hard I’ve been practicing with the crossbow since I learned that it’s the weapon used at the hunt. “I love you so much! We’ll be getting all the trophies with this!” I test it out in my hands to get accustomed to the weight.
Corvus raises his brows with a smirk. “Someone’s getting competitive.”
“Oh, it’s because of Damen. He’s been talking about how he’ll bring the most heads, and a part of me wants to prove him wrong.”
Corvus stays silent for a bit too long, and when his gaze blurs, I know he’s thinking back to everything that happened during the prior holiday season, and my refusal to accompany him into the cellar.
He’s been visiting Kemper since our arrival, and as much as I hate the guy, I wasn’t sure if I had the stomach to see what Corvus is doing.
I keep being overfed to the point of nausea since we arrived, and I don’t want to embarrass myself in case what Corvus does to him is more than I can handle.
“This time, they all really deserve to be there,” he says and slides close to me.
I quickly put away my new pride and joy to pull him in for a hug. He still struggles expressing his feelings, but he’s once confessed how much he loves being embraced by me, and I’ve since been dishing out hugs every chance I get.
“I owed a ridiculous amount of money and tried to leave town. I know now that I was framed, but you shouldn’t feel guilty about any of it. Maybe about the cage in your house and tazing me,” I tease and kiss the side of his head as he scowls.
“I won’t stop feeling guilty, no matter how many times you say that. Just let me stew in my discomfort and enjoy all the benefits,” my man mumbles and approaches his winter camo set. The hunt will start in fifteen minutes.
“Oh, I can do that!” I laugh and put on my own jacket. “Can’t wait to enjoy all the benefits later tonight." I pat his ass on the way to the door, crossbow in hand.
Is this Christmas hunt the freakiest, most savage family tradition I’ve ever heard of? Sure. But do I still want to take part? Absolutely.
I’ve embraced being a Van der Horn to the point of taking on Corvus’s last name.
I am a new man now. My husband offered me a fresh start, and I enjoy all that’s involved.
Sometimes, this means having Sunday dinners with Daphne, or meeting up with Corvus’s cousins.
Sometimes it’s favors for the family’s leader, Karl Van der Horn.
And sometimes, we dispatch the family’s enemies in a ritual that brings us all together.
On our way downstairs, I briefly carry one of Alexandra’s kids on my shoulders, but the children have their own entertainment (far away from the hunt), so I soon wave them goodbye and follow Corvus outside, where all those participating, and their cheerleaders, are already waiting.
The frosty air pinches my skin, so I pull up my scarf a little bit higher as we wait, offering the prey a chance to hide before the Van der Horns start their pursuit.
“Do you have the head bag?” Killian asks Damen, double-checking the strap of his husband’s crossbow.
He usually has his head in the clouds, and he’s nowhere as involved in the family business as me, but looks like he’s in a hunting frenzy too.
He’s even forgotten his hat, and if he was a target, his green hair would have made him easy prey.
“I have everything I need, mon chéri,” Damen says and mounts his horse, looking like a modern-day prince charming.
Roger bursts out of the mansion, red-faced and huffing as though he’s been running. Aspen’s following him like a puppy.
“But dad! You said I could be a helper, like last year.”
Roger shakes his head. “And what did you do last year? I told you not to shoot!”
I try not to get involved, because picking sides is how you get in trouble, so instead I turn all my attention to Corvus, who’s already on horseback.
He plans to scout ahead and use his superior speed to drive our mark toward me, so we can finish the bastard together.
I suspect this might give us an edge, since everyone else is hunting solo.
“Before we start,” Corvus says, loudly enough for everyone to hear him despite the wind blowing the loose snow in our direction. “Leave Kemper to Dalton and me.”
Damen chuckles, and his smile turns smug. “This is a competition. Hunt him down, and he’s yours. Only courtesy I’m offering is that I won’t specifically target him.”
I roll my eyes. That guy is obsessed with winning.
I turn to Corvus. “Hear that? A competition. Let’s show him what we’ve got.”
He hesitates, but his handsome smile soon answers my offer. Corvus nudges the horse with his heels, and we move forward together, ready to look for the imprints of Kemper’s shoes. Nobody is taking this revenge away from us.
“Hey, the hunt starts in ten minutes!” Damen calls out, soon followed by his father, who doesn’t seem particularly invested in keeping us back.
“You break the rules, you will be disqualified from the contest.”
Corvus grins at me, and I reach up to squeeze his thigh. We’re a perfect team.
“I’m not participating in the contest. Have fun!” he shouts back before leaning down to meet my gaze. “All is fair in love and war.”
The End