Epilogue
As Brunemar thaws, I learn that warmth does not banish fear. The world Luceran and I wake to is brighter, yes, but it is also raw and uncertain, shaped by shadows that survived the long winter.
When the sun rises over Castle Frostwyn the next morning, Luceran, Atilia, and I sit at the dining table for a long while in silence.
Around us lie the remnants of that horrible night: spilled wine and spilled blood, bright pink fruit left to soften and rot beneath a sun that has been hidden behind winter’s veil for an age.
In the hollow quiet, I glance at Luceran.
He lifts a hand to shield his eyes as golden light pours through the windows, melting ice running down the glass in slow rivers.
He blinks, turning away when it becomes too much, and I notice how the glow of his mismatched eyes dims, adjusting, perhaps, to a world no longer bound in sleet and gray.
As the cold leaves the land beyond the windows, the sun gives his skin color. He is still pale, but warmth has begun to find him: faint color in his cheeks, in his fingertips, a blush dusting his collarbones.
Yet even with the demon destroyed, with Luceran’s soul freed from the guilt and grief that has haunted him for a century, I know the worst is not behind us. Atilia’s expression makes that much clear. Though I have saved her from a terrible fate, it has not softened her resolve.
“You must send her away,” Atilia says firmly. Her eyes do not rise to enforce the words; they remain fixed on the stone floor. “It is the only way to keep her safe.”
“No,” Luceran says at once, so swift my head snaps toward him. “Her place is at my side.”
Atilia lifts her gaze then.
“Luceran…” She draws a steadying breath. “My son. Please. What you want is forbidden. For a High Fae to take a human lover is one thing. Keep her hidden if you must. But to love her openly. In the light of day… where they can see you…”
“Yes,” Luceran interrupts, his voice steel-cold and unyielding. “Where they can see.”
He turns to me, and though his eyes no longer burn with unnatural light, they are the clearest, most honest I have ever known them. So unguarded it feels as though I am seeing them for the first time.
“I do not want to hide,” he says. “I do not want to live with regret. Not anymore. This castle has been my prison, and I will not spend another day trapped within these walls when Neve has risked her life to set me free.”
His gaze returns to Atilia.
“To set you free, Mother.”
Her nose twitches, as though she has caught the scent of the rotting fruit, but I know that is not what unsettles her. She straightens the lace cuffs on her dress and exhales. Her gaze returns to the floor.
“It is not that I am ungrateful… Neve.” Only when she speaks my name do I realize she is addressing me. “Whatever compelled such bravery is something I am thankful for. But surely you must understand that you and Luceran can never be happy.”
“But I am happy,” I say, and her gaze lifts halfway, reluctant, as if even looking at me costs her something.
I glance at Luceran, who sits a few feet away, though the distance between us feels like a chasm.
A smile finds my lips despite the horrors that still claw at the edges of my thoughts.
“I am happy because I am in love, and because Luceran is free.”
The familiar, condescending click of Atilia’s tongue follows. “Silly human girl. You are living in a dream that can never be real.”
“Mother,” Luceran says, his voice edged with a low, gravelled warning. “If you have nothing worth hearing to offer, then take your leave now. Neve and I…”
“Neve and you?” She is suddenly on her feet, her chair scraping sharply across the stone. “Do you understand what you give up by loving her, Luceran? The lands you will lose?” Her throat bobs as she swallows. “The family you will lose.”
Luceran rises, though not fully straight. He bends slightly, wincing as the lingering pain in his healing body catches him. His jaw tightens as he pushes through it and walks toward me, the vastness of the hall collapsing until there is nothing but the narrow space between us.
He stops behind me and rests his large hand on my shoulder. Where I once braced for cold, sometimes even yearned for it, there is only warmth.
“I would never wish to lose family,” he says, “but I will not love Neve in the shadows, in darkened corners where my title is honored but my heart is not. You spoke of the light of day, Mother, and that is where Neve belongs. With the sun upon her skin and golden light in her hair, and if I must forsake my birthright to stand in that sun beside her, then so be it.”
He pauses, then swallows.
“You watched over me when the darkness tried to drag me to the bottom of that lake, alongside all the others who followed the voice when it called to them. If not for you, I know I would have been dead long before Neve Devlin ever stepped foot in this castle.” His voice softens.
“Please do not make me choose between the hand that kept me above water and the hand that will lead me into the light.”
Atilia’s lip trembles, a faint sheen glazing her blue eyes. Her jaw tightens as she straightens her shoulders.
“This is what you want? Truly, Luceran?”
He nods without hesitation.
“And you? Neve Devlin. If you choose my son, your life will never be what it was.”
I smile and tilt my head, looking up at Luceran as his thumb glides slowly along my shoulder. “My life was not so remarkable before. There were glimmers of joy, of laughter and love, but there was pain too.”
“You believe being together will spare you pain?” she asks almost mockingly.
“No.” I shake my head, laying my hand over Luceran’s. “But we will not have to endure it alone ever again.”
Atilia turns her back on us and paces toward the window. The sun strikes her eyes more fiercely than she is used to, yet she does not look away. She stares into the brightening morning, unflinching. Fearless.
“House Taramethos will return soon,” she says. “They will demand answers for what happened here… again. Marlayna will be furious.”
“I am not afraid of Marlayna,” Luceran snarls. “I will deal with her.”
“No, you will not.” Atilia speaks over her shoulder, her voice calm, resolute. “I will. You and Neve will be far away by then.”
Luceran draws a breath, his mouth opening to argue, but as always, Atilia is quicker.
“I will take control of Castle Frostwyn. I will manage the Aurevault. I will curtsy and smile and beg forgiveness from that bitch Marlayna.” She exhales slowly.
“I will do all of this because you are my son, and I will protect you always. How fortunate you are, Luceran, to have two souls in your life who wish for nothing more than to love you.” A pause.
Then dryly, “Gods know why, as sullen as you are.”
“I cannot allow you to do that,” Luceran says.
“You are not allowing me to do anything.” She turns, arching a brow. “This is your father’s castle, and I have decided to take it back.”
My throat tightens as I rise to my feet.
I am not sure how to accept such a gift, only that gratitude burns too fiercely for words.
Tears threaten, but Luceran pulls me against his chest, his arm firm around my shoulders.
Even he seems uncertain now, as though we have reached the end of a game we never expected to win.
“Go to my estate,” Atilia adds. “Take all the gold you can carry. I have plenty.”
“Mother,” Luceran says quietly. “We do not need your coin.”
Atilia lets out a dramatic groan. “You may be in love, Luceran, but do not be foolish. Even love must eat and pay rent.”
He pauses, drawing a steadying breath. His shoulders rise and fall before he slowly moves toward Atilia.
For a moment, he stands behind her in silence.
Then he lifts his hand and rests it on her shoulder.
She reaches for him at once, their fingers locking tight as he bends to murmur something into her ear that I cannot hear.
Whatever he says makes her laugh softly.
She grips his hand as he kisses her cheek.
Luceran turns back to me, and Atilia reluctantly releases him as he crosses the space between us.
“We have to go,” he says.
I nod, my thoughts scrambling to keep pace with everything unfolding. “We should pack.”
He smiles faintly and shakes his head. “I want to leave all of this behind. You are the only thing I need to take with me.”
I fall into his chest, my arms sliding around his waist. I close my eyes as warmth fills me, as I inhale his scent, as the steady vibration of his heartbeat thrums through me until it echoes my own.
His hand moves gently through my hair, his lips brushing the crown of my head.
Then he chuckles softly, as though reading my thoughts.
“But you would like to bring some books, wouldn’t you?”
I lift my gaze slowly, my lower lip caught between my teeth. “Just a couple.”
He tilts his chin, peering down his nose at me before breaking into a smile and nodding. “Whatever you want.”
He turns toward the door, away from the dining hall, away from his mother. I take a step with him, then hesitate.
His brow furrows, but when my eyes flick to Atilia, understanding dawns. He nods once.
I slip from his arms and cross the floor toward her, gathering courage as I go.
She turns as I approach and immediately rolls her eyes.
“What more could you want, girl?” she groans. “Your weight in diamonds?”
For a heartbeat, I wonder what possessed me to come this close to her, risk being throttled where I stand, rather than leave quietly with my gratitude unspoken. I have never been good at looking before I leap.
“I wanted to say thank you,” I manage, the words tumbling out more awkwardly than I intend. My gaze darts between her sharp eyes and the floor, not quite brave enough to meet her fully. “I know you have never been fond of me…”