Epilogue
BECKS
My palms are sweating, my skin prickling with nerves. I’ve never been this anxious, and it’s not because I’m about to get married.
It’s the sudden, irrational fear that Haven woke up this morning, realized how out of my league she is, and changed her mind.
Never mind that we’ve been together for years.
She wanted to wait until she finished her undergrad degree before getting married, and I supported that decision wholeheartedly.
We have a lifetime ahead of us, and I’ve loved every phase we’ve shared.
But I still wake up every day a little stunned that someone so extraordinary, and so perfectly right for me, chose me back.
Soft music starts up and my heart rate spikes. I take a deep breath to steady myself.
A hand settles between my shoulders as Talon, my best man, leans forward and whispers, “Relax, man. You’ve got this,” before giving me a reassuring thump and straightening again.
There’s movement at the end of the aisle and Ensley appears, dressed in a floor-length lavender gown that matches the purple streaks in her hair. I catch Titus twist in his seat to watch her, a smitten look on his face.
They were married six months ago in what was perhaps the wedding of the century.
It was televised all over the creature world.
The prodigal fae prince’s return. Although, to get him back, his parents had to agree that he and Ensley would only live in Endora for half the year.
The other half of the year they live in New York in an apartment next to Locklyn and Talon, completely out of the public eye.
As she passes, Ensley blows her husband a kiss.
Next down the aisle is Tate, Haven’s human friend. Since she knows all about creatures and our world, she was allowed passage through the portal to be part of the wedding today. Something that’s become more common since Haven destroyed the demon and the threat it posed.
By some miracle, Tate pulled through after her possession. She was in a coma for more than a month then woke up one day. The last couple of years haven’t been the easiest for her. She remembers everything from when she was demon-possessed, as if she was a passenger in her own body.
That’s some heavy stuff to work through, and although she knows on a logical level Kendra’s death wasn’t her fault, according to Haven she still deals with guilt.
Haven thinks she’s working through it though, albeit slowly, and was thrilled when she agreed to be a bridesmaid.
Despite the trauma still clinging to her, dimples crease her cheeks as she makes her slow walk down the aisle.
I spot her gaze lingering on more than one of the single guys seated on either side as she passes.
I’m chuckling to myself about the looks they’re sending back her way when Talon catches his breath behind me.
Glancing up, Locklyn appears, holding a small white bouquet, dotted with tiny purple and teal flowers like the rest of the bridesmaids. Her hair is twisted up, with little wisps framing her face. With a brilliant smile, she only has eyes for the guy standing behind me.
When she reaches the dais, where I’m standing, she gives me a quick hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek. Before pulling away, she whispers in my ear, “You’d better treat my sister like the princess she is, because I happen to know several places to hide a body.”
She pulls back with a pleasant look on her face. No one would know she just threatened my life. But that’s Locklyn for you: looks are deceiving.
I give a good-natured chuckle, and she smiles back and says quietly, “I wasn’t joking,” before taking her place off to the side. I sneak a quick peek over my shoulder at Talon. He just says, “You heard my girl.”
I clear my throat, the nerves back. Not because of Locklyn’s threats, but because it’s the moment of truth.
The music fades, and then a new melody starts. All the guests rise to their feet. I hold my breath, clenching my fists because they start to shake. And then . . .
. . . she appears.
And steals my breath all over again.
Haven has always been the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, but walking toward me with her hair softly curled and draped in white lace and silk, it’s almost too much for me to take in, and I feel my eyes misting.
I don’t know the names for the different types of dresses, but the one she’s wearing is strapless and tight throughout her torso and hips, flaring slightly around the knees before cascading to the ground.
The soft smile on her face is just for me, and as she nears everything drops away.
Everything except her.
She’s escorted down the aisle by her father, David, and when they reach me, she hands her bouquet to Locklyn. Her father places her hand in mine, and though my hand is still shaking, the moment her soft fingers curl around it, I calm.
She’s here. She loves me. She’s going to be mine forever.
The ceremony goes by in a blur because I’m lost in her eyes. I think I say, “I do,” and I repeat after the officiant at the appropriate time, but really, there’s only one line I’m waiting for.
Finally, it comes.
“You may kiss your—”
I don’t wait for him to finish before sliding an arm around Haven and drawing her close. My other hand cups her cheek as I dip down to taste her lips.
The kiss is soft and perfect, and I’m about to ease back, a married man, when Haven’s hand snakes behind my head and brings me right back for more.
There are hoots and whistles from our guests, but I don’t care. If my girl wants a better kiss, I won’t ever deny her.
When we finally part, Haven’s cheeks are flushed a soft pink, and I’m left pleasantly unsteady.
She grins at me, and taking her hand, I turn toward our guests and raise it, and they all go wild.
Receptions are completely overrated.
Because we were getting married in the creature world, Zia and Braxton helped Haven and her parents plan the reception. They did an amazing job.
The garden is lit softly, lanterns hanging from the trees and threaded through the vines overhead. Moonlight glints off pale blossoms, the air warm and steady as petals shift in the breeze. Stone paths wind through the space, drawing people deeper into the garden as they move between the tables.
Music drifts through the air, low and melodic, blending with the quiet hum of insects and the gentle splash of a nearby fountain. Tables are scattered throughout the garden instead of lined up in stiff rows, encouraging people to wander, mingle, laugh. Everything feels unhurried. Intentional.
It isn’t grand or overwhelming. It’s warm. Alive. Exactly right.
As Haven laughs nearby, her hand warm in mine, I realize I wouldn’t change a single thing.
Except the length.
I was ready to go and spend some time alone with my new wife hours ago. As beautiful as she is in her wedding dress, I want to get her out of it.
The party finally winds down, and I lean in to place a soft kiss just behind her ear. She shivers, and a grin spreads across my face.
“Let’s go,” I whisper, sending another shiver through her.
When she glances up at me, the hazy look in her heavy-lidded eyes lets me know she’s ready to leave. Without another word, I tug her toward the exit, only giving short waves to guests trying to wish us well.
We enter the lodging next to the garden and are immediately greeted by the sight of Imogen and Kade making out across the hall.
Haven yips in surprise then slaps a hand over her mouth.
Those two have the strangest relationship.
They break up every other month, yet somehow always find their way back to each other.
They’re the definition of opposites attract, and if that works for them, more power to them.
On some level, I think they both thrive on the volatility.
It’s how they keep things interesting. There are really only two possible outcomes for them: they’ll either kill each other or end up married too. Only time will tell.
I chuckle and guide Haven in the opposite direction, silently thanking past-me for having the foresight to have booked a room at the venue so we wouldn’t have to travel far. Because Imogen and Kade are blocking the elevator, we take the stairs.
I bend and scoop Haven up so she doesn’t have to navigate the stairs in her heels. She makes another surprised sound that turns into a laugh as I bound up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
“In a hurry, are we?” she asks.
When I smile down at her, it’s wolfish. “You have no idea.”
Reading the desire on my face, her laughter trails off and matching heat flares in her eyes.
She doesn’t look away as I carry her, one arm looped around my neck, the other resting against my chest as if it’s always belonged there.
The stairwell is quiet, the sounds of the celebration fading with each step, until all that’s left is the soft brush of her dress and the steady thrum of my heartbeat beneath her palm.
By the time we reach the landing, her smile has softened. It’s quieter. Deeper.
I get her in the room and the door clicks shut behind us, sealing the rest of the world away.
For a moment we just stand there, breathing each other in. The weight of the day presses down all at once. The vows, the promises, the fact that she’s my wife now. I lower her slowly, reluctantly, my hands lingering as if I’m afraid she might disappear if I let go.
Her fingers curl into the front of my jacket and she pushes it off my shoulders. I shrug, letting it drop to the floor. She already has her hands on my tie, unknotting it, and then moving on to the buttons of my shirt.
She doesn’t stop until I’m bare from the waist up. Her gaze lingers, greedy and unashamed, tracing every ridge and scar until it settles on the dragon-scale heart, now ringed in soft purple and magenta flames. My homage to her.
She lays her hand over the inked heart and peers up at me, the look in her eyes a mix of love and desire.
I can’t hold back any longer. I reach for her. My fingers find the zipper on the back of her gown, easing it down slowly, deliberately, as if there’s nowhere else we need to be. The dress slips away inch by inch, pooling at her feet like an afterthought.
The breath catches in my throat as she stands in front of me in her lingerie.
“Beautiful,” I whisper reverently.
When I finally draw her back into my arms, it’s with a care that feels sacred, like this moment deserves to be remembered, not rushed.
I rest my hands at her waist, thumbs brushing the warmth of her skin, grounding myself in the reality of her. Of us.
Whatever comes next doesn’t need words.
I press one last kiss to her lips, soft and full of promise, before guiding her toward the bed, toward the future we’ve just chosen together.
As the door to the room stays firmly closed, the night wraps around what we’ve just begun. Because tonight isn’t an ending, it’s the first page of everything that comes next.