EPILOGUE
AURORA
Six weeks later…
The elevator doors slide open to the penthouse, and I freeze.
Every surface glimmers with candlelight, dozens of flames dancing across the space Hunter and I have shared these past desperate weeks.
The dining table—usually covered with maps and surveillance printouts—is now draped in crisp linen, set with fine china and crystal glasses that catch the light.
“Hunter?” I call, setting my purse down. The scent of something delicious hangs in the air, a stark contrast to our usual hastily-prepared meals grabbed between search updates.
He appears from the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him in days. “Welcome home.”
“What’s all this?” I gesture to the transformation around me. Six weeks of frantic searching, six weeks of dead ends and disappointments have worn us both down. This feels surreal, like stepping into someone else’s life.
Hunter crosses to me, takes my hands in his. “I wanted to do something nice for you. You’ve been so strong through all of this.”
“But Liv—”
“Is still our priority,” he assures me, brushing hair from my face. “But watching you check your phone every two minutes during dinner last night with your friends reminded me that we need moments to breathe too.”
I hadn’t realized he’d noticed my distraction during dinner. My friends had practically forced us out, insisting I needed a break from the penthouse and our constant search.
“You’ve barely slept. Barely eaten.” His thumb traces my cheekbone. “I know how much you’re hurting, how worried you are about Liv.”
I lean into his touch, exhaling. “Any news?”
“Grayson’s team found something promising in Colorado. It’s early, but...” He hesitates. “I think we’re getting close.”
Hope flutters dangerously in my chest. We’ve had promising leads before.
“Tonight is just for us,” Hunter continues, leading me toward the table. “Tomorrow we will keep fighting. But right now, I need you to sit down and let me take care of you for one evening.”
Hunter serves roasted lamb with rosemary potatoes, and I can’t help but be impressed. “You made this yourself?”
“Don’t sound so shocked.” He smirks, pouring red wine into my glass. “I’ve always been capable in the kitchen. I just rarely have a reason to show off.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes, but something feels off. Hunter keeps glancing at me, then away. His knee bounces beneath the table, a nervous tic I’ve never seen from him before. Hunter Reed—always in control, always three steps ahead—seems... anxious.
“Are you okay?” I finally ask, setting down my fork. “You seem distracted.”
He takes a deep breath, something unreadable crossing his face. “I’ve been thinking about what Jax took from us. The time. The trust. Almost you.”
“Hunter—”
He pushes back his chair abruptly and moves to my side of the table. My heart stutters when he drops to one knee beside me—not like before when he begged forgiveness, but with clear purpose.
“This isn’t how I envisioned this moment,” he says, voice rough with emotion.
“Before everything happened, I wanted to do this properly. Somewhere special, with everything perfect.” His hand slips into his pocket, emerging with a small velvet box.
“But if I’ve learned anything these past weeks, it’s that we don’t have the luxury of waiting for perfect moments. ”
He opens the box, revealing a simple solitaire diamond set in platinum. Beautiful in its understated elegance.
“Almost losing you...” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “When Jax took you, I realized I’d spent my entire life not caring about anyone but myself. Then suddenly, the thought of a world without you in it was unbearable.”
Tears blur my vision as he takes the ring from its box.
“Aurora Harrison, I know we still have battles ahead of us. I know we’re both broken in ways that may never fully heal. But I never want to be without you again. Will you marry me?”
My heart thunders in my chest as I look at the ring, then back to Hunter’s face. Despite everything, I know my answer with absolute certainty.
“Yes,” I whisper, then louder, “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Hunter’s hands tremble slightly as he slides the ring onto my finger. He pulls me into his arms, and I cling to him, this dangerous man who somehow became my safe harbor in the storm.
“I love you,” I murmur against his neck.
He cradles my face, thumbs brushing away tears I hadn’t realized were falling. “I love you too. More than I thought possible.”
His kiss is so painfully gentle, almost reverent. When we break apart, I stare at the diamond catching candlelight on my finger, feeling a bittersweet ache.
“I just wish Liv could be here,” I say, my joy dimming as I think of my sister, still out there somewhere with a madman. “This should be a moment we share together.”
Hunter tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “We’re going to find her. Grayson said he thinks they’re really close to closing in on their location. And when we do, we’ll celebrate properly. All of us together.”
I lean into his touch, trying to hold onto this moment of happiness amid our ongoing nightmare. “Remember when we told Derek about us?”
Hunter’s mouth quirks. “How could I forget? I thought he might actually try to shoot me.”
One week after returning to the city, we’d sat Derek down in his study. The thunderous expression on my stepfather’s face when Hunter explained that the engagement to Liv was over and he was in love with me instead—I’d almost lost my nerve.
“He wasn’t happy,” I say, the understatement of the century.
“No, but he came around. Especially after learning Liv was involved with Ari.”
I nod, remembering Derek’s grudging acceptance. “He said he couldn’t blame just you when clearly both Harrison women have questionable taste in men.”
Hunter kisses me again. “We’ll add finding your sister to our wedding to-do list, right at the top.
And we won’t be planning a wedding until she’s back and safe.
Let me get the champagne.” He retreats to the kitchen and returns with a bottle of Dom Pérignon, the cork popping with a satisfying sound that makes me laugh.
He fills two flutes, the bubbles catching the candlelight like tiny stars.
“To us,” he says, clinking his glass against mine. “To the future Mrs. Reed.”
The champagne is crisp and perfect. I set my glass down and move into his arms, still adjusting to the weight of the ring on my finger. “I never thought I’d feel this happy in the middle of everything else.”
Hunter’s eyes darken as he looks down at me. “I want to celebrate properly,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to that low register that sends heat cascading through my body. His lips brush my ear. “I want all of you tonight. Every part I haven’t claimed yet.”
My breath catches at his meaning. “You mean...?”
“I want to pop that perfect little anal cherry of yours,” he confirms, his bluntness making me blush despite everything we’ve already done together. “Tell me you’ll let me have that tonight.”
I’ve never done that before, though Hunter has hinted at it. Something about being engaged makes me brave. “Yes,” I whisper, surprising myself with how much I want this new intimacy.
He lifts me, carrying me toward the bedroom. “I’ll make it good for you,” he promises against my neck. “I’ll make you feel things you never imagined.”
In the bedroom, Hunter takes his time undressing me, dropping kisses on each newly exposed patch of skin. I’m trembling by the time he lays me on the bed.
“On your hands and knees,” he commands, and I comply, hearing him retrieve something from the nightstand drawer. “I’ve been thinking about this,” he admits, his hands caressing my back. “Claiming every part of you.”
I gasp as cool liquid drips where I’ve never been touched. Hunter’s fingers are gentle but insistent, preparing me with patience. “Relax,” he murmurs. “Trust me.”
“I do,” I breathe, meaning it completely despite our complicated past.
The cool sensation of lube makes me flinch, but Hunter’s steady hand on my lower back keeps me in place.
“Relax, baby,” he murmurs. “I’ll make this good for you.”
I try to breathe deeply as his slick finger circles where I’ve never been touched before, teasing and testing.
“That’s it,” he encourages as I consciously release the tension in my body. “Trust me.”
His finger presses forward, entering me. The sensation is foreign and a little uncomfortable. While his one finger eases me open, his other slides beneath me, fingers finding my already sensitive clit.
“Hunter,” I gasp, my hips jerking.
“Feel good?” He works a slow circle around my clit while his finger continues its gentle invasion.
Words fail me as pleasure builds from his skilled touch between my legs, distracting me from the unfamiliar pressure behind. When he adds a second lubricated finger, I barely register the burn before it transforms into a deep, pulsing pleasure.
“You’re opening up so beautifully for me,” Hunter praises, his fingers working in tandem—one hand bringing intense, familiar pleasure while the other introduces me to something entirely new.
The combination is overwhelming. My breathing turns ragged as he increases the pressure on my clit, circling faster while his fingers push deeper into my ass. The sensation builds, a different kind of orgasm forming—fuller, deeper somehow.
“Hunter, I’m—” I can’t finish the sentence before waves of pleasure crash through me, my body clenching around his invasive fingers as I come with shocking intensity.
“Good girl,” he whispers, continuing the gentle movements until the aftershocks subside.
Instead of feeling satisfied, the orgasm has only heightened my sensitivity, made me want more. The feeling of his fingers inside me—so foreign minutes ago—now feels necessary, like something I’ve been missing.
“More,” I plead. “Please, I need more.”