Epilogue Ronan
Same day
Betty sat cross-legged on the blood-soaked ground with Fennel and Cecil. Cecil was perched on her exposed knee where it poked through the torn jeans. She held Fennel out in front of her and was nose-to-nose with him, speaking softly.
I could just make out her words: “…know how you came to me, Fennel. It changes nothing. I love both of you so much.”
The woman had been through hell—had possibly been in Hell—and was still watching over her people. Making sure her partners knew she cared. For someone who’d thought of herself as a loner for years, she sure loved a lot of people. I was very, very grateful to be one of them.
The wolves were beginning to disperse. Betty hadn’t given the order, but the job was done, this contingent of The Org taken care of.
It had been a brutal, largely one-sided fight, but it wasn’t as if the pack had started it.
The Org had known what they were doing. They’d had enough time to figure out that Betty wasn’t a demon.
At least, not the kind they fought.
Hartman had even gone to the former chairman, Catherine something-or-other, and pled her case, which was something I’d found out by accident—if hiring someone to monitor his movements counted as accidental.
I was still surprised he hadn’t caught on that I was having him watched.
Or maybe he had and either didn’t care or found it useful.
Hard to know with Hartman.
What I did know was I didn’t regret hiring a paranormal investigative agency to spy on Hartman, the rat alpha, the buzzards, Bronwyn Jonas, Margaux Ramirez, the tenants, and anyone else in Betty’s circle.
I should’ve gone farther and spied on her, too.
She’d have been pissed if she found out, but Greer wouldn’t have gotten as far as he had if I’d been less worried about her feelings and more about her safety.
I’d never spy on her behind her back, but that wouldn’t be happening again.
My wolf and I were finished fucking around. I was going to take the list of names the wolves had given Betty, add it to the ones Hartman and I had come up with, and run my claws through any enemy who dared speak a word against her. Pack or not, they were going down.
Bones crunched under my feet. Blood squelched.
The heat was stifling. The smell was atrocious but satisfying.
This small army of enemies had been conquered, and it was gratifying to see their lives crushed into the soil.
They wouldn’t have hesitated to do the same to Betty.
Would’ve done far worse than kill her if they’d had the chance.
The love of my life hugged her partners to her chest and lifted her head.
Someone had set one of The Org’s cars on fire, and the flames backlit her raven hair in the bright, early morning light.
In that moment, she was a victorious warrior queen painted in shades of gold, red, and black.
With the world burning around her, blood and tears soaking her clothing, her partners held tight to her, she began to search.
Her gaze roved over the bodies of the fallen, the wolves, and the roof of the house where two buzzards perched, watching the melee with a scavenger hunger gleaming in their beaded eyes.
It glided over Margaux, who stood like a statue a few feet away, and onto Bronwyn, who was having a terse conversation with Hartman.
It never stopped for long, lighting on bones, sliding over fur, sweeping the horizon. Then it found me.
And it stopped.
She sipped the smallest of breaths, one an average person wouldn’t have heard or seen. I felt that breath in my chest, my guts, my soul. It told me that even through the darkness, through battles and blood, through Hell and back, she was mine and I was hers.
If I’d expected a smile, I’d have been disappointed. Good thing I hadn’t expected one. I knew my woman, knew her ways. She was exhausted and afraid and yet fully in her power.
For once, she’d allowed the network she’d built—wolves, witches, and allies—not only to fight with her but fight for her.
It was a huge step, and I was deeply proud.
Madame Responsable finally understood what it meant to be a true alpha leader, to be part of a pack.
She understood why it had been so hard for my wolf to allow her, or anyone else, to be Alpha of a pack he’d already considered his.
It wasn’t easy to lead a pack—most of the time it was downright exhausting—but when it went the way it was supposed to, when all parts of the whole worked in tandem, synchronized in heart and mind, it was glorious.
Responsibility shared. As it was in a relationship between two people who were irrevocably committed to each other, body and soul.
“Ronan,” she whispered, and I was there.
Had my feet moved? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that one moment I was far away and the next I was on my knees in the dirt beside her.
“I love you,” she said.
I opened my mouth to return the words. It was my full intention, in fact. But what came out was something else entirely.
“Marry me.”
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