Epilogue
Three days later, beneath a gentler moon, the world breathes again.
No more warning. No trembling pulse of danger or the craving for blood.
Only hearth light, warmth, and the soft hum of magic lingering like smoke in the air.
At the werewolf king’s home in England, the night settles with the presence of family.
Outside, the children play—all cousins—laugh unburdened. They’re free to be wild and explore, while the gods seal their future. A path already claimed.
They chase fireflies and shadows with the fearlessness only a sacred bloodline can give.
Inside, the men gather.
A warlock.
A wolf.
A vampire.
Ancient power wrapped in flesh and mortal ease, each holding a glass as the world bends to please them. Their wants. Their needs. Their queens. Two drink scotch, while the latter has dark blood, gleaming ruby-rich inside a crystal glass.
They exude a quiet rumble of pride beneath their casual words.
They’ve claimed and kept. Hunger sealed into devotion, beast into bond.
Then the air shifts. Soft footsteps. All three women in sync, steady, and excited—the moment they cross the threshold...
Conversation dies mid-sentence, and every head snaps toward them, instincts slamming awake. Their possession is no longer primal, yet no less absolute. This is reverent. Honest and pure. Male eyes track curves and power, hunger softened by the devotion they’ve earned through battle and blood.
Muscles tense. Throats tighten.
For a breath, the world narrows to the three queens stepping into their dominion.
They’re not prey, but the true masters. The reasons why these monsters kneel and kingdoms tremble. Magic glows beneath their skin—ancient, fertile...chosen.
Moreover, their mates feel it before they see it.
The pulse of new life, quiet and undeniable. Another generation forms on a single breath.
A gift created beneath the next full moon and born to the three Wiccan royals...
The End…Or is it?
*My lips are sealed for now…*
Turn the page for a sneak peek at
Siren’s Kiss & Feral Beasts