Epilogue

Five years later.

I peek through the window of our new home. A tiny vampire grabs a handful of candy and drops it into his bucket before running back to his parents. The streets are quiet now, porch lights winking out one by one.

I walk back to the living room where Kellan is sprawled on the couch, our pumpkin spice lattes steaming on the coffee table, a stack of empty candy wrappers between us.

Halloween Town flickers across the TV screen, and I curl into his side. Four years married, five years since the night he stormed into my life—and still nothing feels righter than this.

When the credits roll, I slip outside to collect the candy dish from the porch. I take a moment to bask in the fall air, the colorful leaves dusting the porch.

I turn around—

And freeze.

A huge figure fills the doorway, broad shoulders cloaked in black. A mask hides his face. But I know that stance, that presence, better than I know myself.

“Better run, baby doll,” he growls.

A thrill races down my spine. I can’t contain the giggle that bubbles out of me as I take off toward the woods, my pulse jumping with excitement.

Best Halloween tradition ever.

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