Epilogue 3-Gunner
I swear to the gods, if I had to witness Menon and his mate making out one more time, I was going to throw myself directly into the sea surrounding Northumberland Island.
Seriously.
How could two people possibly be that obsessed with each other?
They’d been apart for maybe seven minutes.
Seriously.
And somehow I still walked in on enough eye contact and heavy breathing to traumatize me permanently.
“Take your time,” I’d muttered while backing out of the office. “Really. No one else works here or anything.”
Neither of them listened.
Of course not.
Mates.
Ugh.
Apparently once supernatural creatures found “the one,” they lost all remaining common sense and immediately developed a compulsive need to touch each other every five seconds.
Disgusting.
Honestly concerning.
I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and wandered through the moonlit streets surrounding Runevald, muttering under my breath about celestial idiots and emotionally codependent Witches.
The night air smelled like saltwater and magic.
Above the Institute, auroras shimmered across the sky where ley lines crossed through the multiverse itself, ribbons of silver-green light bleeding between stars.
Asgarheim always felt strange at night.
Ancient.
Alive.
My Wolf liked it here more than I cared to admit.
Too bad the rest of my life had turned into a paranormal romance novel against my will.
I snorted to myself.
“What makes mates so special anyway? Aside from the Fates favoring them and everything,” I grumbled aloud.
My Wolf immediately lifted its head inside my mind.
Interested.
Annoying.
“Shut up. You don’t even know anything,” I muttered at it.
The Wolf ignored me.
Then suddenly—it snarled.
I froze instantly.
Something hit my senses hard enough to stop me mid-step.
A scent.
Warm.
Sweet.
Impossible.
Snickerdoodles.
Vanilla buttercream.
And underneath it—female.
My Wolf surged violently forward inside my chest.
Every instinct sharpened instantly.
Predator.
Protector.
Mine.
Wait.
What?
I frowned hard.
“No.”
The Wolf snarled louder.
Another sound drifted through the narrow alley ahead.
A whimper.
Fear.
My body moved before conscious thought fully caught up.
I rounded the corner fast enough my boots scraped sparks across cobblestone—
And stopped dead.
Three male Monsters had a woman cornered against the stone wall behind the bakery district.
Wrong move.
Very wrong fucking move.
The blonde Witch pressed herself backward defensively, clutching a box against her chest while glaring at the males surrounding her.
Curvy.
Short.
Furious despite being obviously outnumbered.
And gods—the second I saw her clearly, my Wolf lost its entire fucking mind.
Mine.
The word detonated through my head so loudly I physically staggered.
The blonde turned sharply toward me.
Huge blue eyes widened beneath the floating lantern light.
Fear flashed across her face first.
Then relief.
Then—something else.
Recognition?
No, that would be crazy.
The Monsters surrounding her noticed me too late.
My claws punched free instantly.
Wolf magic surged hot beneath my skin.
“What do you say, little Witch. Share your goodies with us, and maybe we’ll save you a cookie for afterwards,” one growled and reached for her curly blonde hair.
The growl that ripped from my chest sounded absolutely inhuman.
“Get the fuck away from her,” I snarled.
The three males looked up startled.
“Hey, mind your business,” one said.
Then it started.
My shift.
See, I’m not just a Wolf Shifter.
I turn into something else.
Something horrifying.
Something other.
Monster.
And just as the fur rippled across my body and my lupine face began to form complete with six inch fangs dripping with saliva—those three fuckwads squealed and backed away immediately.
Smart.
Because something ancient and possessive had just awakened inside me—and it wanted blood.
The blonde Witch stared at me wide-eyed while clutching the bakery box tighter against her chest.
The scent of cinnamon and sugar wrapped around me again.
Fuck.
My Wolf pressed harder against my ribs.
Mine.
I stared at her.
She stared back.
Then slowly—very slowly—my fur receded and I became man once again.
The Witch licked her lips and lifted the bakery box slightly.
“Thanks. Um, I…” Her voice shook faintly. “I have extra snickerdoodles?”
Gods help me.
I was doomed.
The end.