Epilogue
One month later…
The blue gown lay draped across the bed, its fabric catching the late afternoon light that streamed through the window.
Jessa stood before her wardrobe in nothing but her shift, fingers trailing over the options she’d accumulated since moving between the den and the cottage.
There was the practical brown wool for daily wear, the green linen for market days, and the deep rose dress Tarek had surprised her with last week—purchased from a traveling merchant with a gruff dismissal of her protests about the cost.
Too fine for what I have planned, she thought, her cheeks warming at the direction of her own thoughts.
She reached for the blue gown instead. Simple cotton, soft from many washings, with a clever design that allowed the skirts to be gathered and tied at the hips when walking through rough terrain. Or when one needed to move quickly.
The fabric whispered softly against her skin as she pulled it over her head. She smoothed the bodice, checked that the side ties were secure but easily loosened, and slipped her feet into flat leather slippers that would grip the forest floor.
Her hair was the final consideration. She’d been wearing it down more often lately because Tarek had confessed that he loved watching the way it caught the light, but today she twisted it back into a simple knot at the nape of her neck. Practical. Sensible.
Nothing about what you’re planning is sensible, a voice whispered in her mind.
She grinned at her reflection in the small mirror propped on the dresser. No, it wasn’t sensible at all. But after everything they’d been through, she thought they’d both earned a little madness.
The door creaked behind her and she turned to find Tarek filling the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly brushing the frame on either side. His green eyes swept the room with the automatic alertness that never quite left him, even here in the safety of their home.
A small furrow appeared between his brows. “Where’s Dani?”
“Spending the night in the village.” She kept her voice light, casual, as if her heart wasn’t already beginning to race. “Sarah’s mother offered to have her over. Apparently they’re planning to stay up late and make leaf crowns for the fall festival.”
The furrow deepened. “I was going to show her how to identify cloudmoss today. She’s been asking about it all week.”
“You can show her tomorrow.” She crossed over to him and placed her hand against his chest. Beneath her palm, she could feel the steady rhythm of his heart. “I thought you might enjoy having the den to ourselves tonight.”
She watched understanding dawn in his eyes. The green brightened, then began to glow in the way that always made her breath catch. A low rumble built in his chest, more felt than heard.
“Did you, now?”
“I did.”
His hands came up to span her waist, the tips of his fingers nearly meeting at her spine. She’d gotten used to the size of him, the way he dwarfed her without ever making her feel small, but it still sent a shiver of awareness through her when he touched her like this.
“And what did you have in mind?” His voice had dropped to that register that made her toes curl. “Because I have… suggestions.”
She laughed, pressing her hands flat against his chest before he could pull her closer. “Actually, I had something specific planned.”
The glow in his eyes flickered with curiosity. “Oh?”
Now or never.
She took a breath. “I want to meet your beast.”
He went very still.
The rumble in his chest cut off abruptly, and for a long moment he simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then he said carefully, “You have met my beast. Many times.”
“I’ve caught glimpses.” She held his gaze, refusing to look away.
“When you’re hunting and don’t realize I’m watching.
When we’re together and you let go just enough for me to see him behind your eyes.
” She reached up to trace the line of his jaw, feeling the muscle flex beneath her fingertips.
“But you always hold back. You always keep him leashed.”
“For good reason.” His voice was rougher now, strained. “The beast is… He’s not gentle, Jessa. He’s not safe.”
“I know.”
“He wants things. He feels things more intensely than I do in this form.” His hands tightened at her waist, almost convulsively. “When I let him out I don’t always think clearly. I react. I need.”
“I know.” She rose on her toes, pressing a soft kiss to his chin. “And I want to know that part of you too. All of you, Tarek. Not just the pieces you think are acceptable.”
A shudder ran through him. She could feel it, the way his control trembled beneath the force of her words. Something shifted behind his eyes, his beast stirring, awakened by the promise of finally being seen.
“Are you certain?” The words were barely human, more growl than speech. “Once I let him out, I won’t be able to—”
“I’m certain.” She stepped back, putting space between them even as every instinct screamed for her to move closer. “I’m sure.”
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then he closed his eyes and changed.
It wasn’t dramatic—no flash of light, no howl of pain.
Just a subtle shifting, a deepening of the shadows that already clung to his form.
When his eyes opened again, they blazed with verdant fire, bright enough to cast green-tinted shadows across the walls.
His canines had lengthened, jutting past his lower lip in wicked points.
The muscles beneath his furred skin rippled and tensed, coiled power barely contained.
He was magnificent.
And terrifying.
And hers.
Her heart stuttered as he took a step towards her, his movements suddenly fluid and predatory in a way they hadn’t been before.
This was no longer the controlled, careful male who touched her like she was made of glass.
This was the beast beneath—hungry, primal, utterly focused on her with an intensity that stole her breath.
She backed towards the door.
“Jessa.” Her name was a warning, a rumble that seemed to come from everywhere at once. “Don’t run.”
“Why not?”
She could see his surprise in the brief flicker of his glowing eyes. He tilted his head, a gesture more animal than human, scenting the air.
“You’re not afraid.”
“No.” She reached behind her, fingers finding the door latch. “I’m not.”
“Then why are you running?”
She smiled, a slow, deliberate challenge she knew he couldn’t resist. “Because I want you to chase me.”
His eyes blazed emerald fire. A sound emerged from his throat that was nothing like language—pure want, pure need, pure beast.
“Give me a head start.” She lifted the latch and the door swung open behind her. Cool evening air rushed in, carrying the scent of pine and loam and the promise of the wild. “That’s only fair, isn’t it?”
“Fair?” Another step towards her. “There’s nothing fair about what I’m going to do when I catch you.”
Heat pooled low in her belly. “I’m counting on it.”
Then she turned and ran.
The evening air was crisp against her flushed skin as she bolted from the den, her flat slippers finding easy purchase on the familiar path. She didn’t look back. She didn’t need to. She could feel him watching her, those glowing eyes tracking every movement as she plunged into the tree line.
Five seconds, she told herself. I told him to give me a head start.
The forest swallowed her in shadows, light filtering through the canopy overhead. She knew these woods now, but everything felt different in the gathering dusk. More alive. More dangerous.
More exciting.
Scarlett, the weaver from Seren’s pack, had confessed this to her two weeks ago, over cups of herbal tea while their mates hunted together. The red-haired woman had leaned close, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and whispered secrets that had made Jessa’s face burn and her curiosity ignite.
“They love to chase,” she’d said. “The hunt is instinct for them. And when they finally catch you…” She’d trailed off with a wicked grin. “Well. Let’s just say you’ll never look at the forest the same way again.”
Her heart pounded as she wove between ancient trees, ducking under low-hanging branches and leaping over gnarled roots. She could hear nothing behind her, but she felt him. A presence in the darkness, circling, waiting, savoring the game as much as she was.
Her breath came faster, her blood singing with a wild joy she’d never experienced before.
This was nothing like the cold, paralyzing terror of her uncle’s threats or the desperate flight through the storm with Dani heavy in her arms. This fear was hot and thrilling, laced through with desire so sharp it made her gasp.
He’s playing with me, she realized as she burst through a clearing and found herself on the banks of the stream. The water gleamed silver in the fading light, rippling softly over smooth stones. Drawing it out. Making me want it.
She spun in a slow circle, searching the shadows.
Nothing.
No glowing eyes. No dark shape between the trees. And yet she was sure he was there.
For a moment, she wondered if she’d imagined it, but then a voice came from directly behind her, so close she felt the warmth of his breath against her ear.
“Found you.”
She gasped and tried to bolt, but his arms were already around her, iron bands of muscle lifting her clear off the ground. She laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep in her chest, and twisted in his grip, trying to see his face.
What she saw made her breath catch.
His features had sharpened, all hard planes and predatory angles. His eyes blazed like twin emeralds held before a flame. And his expression—gods, his expression. Hunger and triumph, but something softer as well. “You let me catch you,” he accused, his voice still more growl than words.
“Maybe.” She reached up, tracing the point of one elongated canine with her fingertip. “Or maybe you’re just faster than I expected.”