Epilogue
? Arden ?
Henry’s seventh birthday unfolded in the backyard.
A crooked banner stretched between the fence and the old willow tree, the letters sagging where the string dipped too low.
Folding tables sat uneven in the grass, legs propped with rocks, paper tablecloths snapping in the breeze.
Balloons bobbed and tugged at their strings, a few already half-deflated.
The cake waited on the picnic table in the shade, blue frosting softening at the edge.
I was everywhere at once. Plates tucked under one arm, knife in my hand, circling kids and food and chaos.
“Don’t touch it yet,” I warned, which meant absolutely nothing.
Heath touched my arm as I scrambled past her. “Arden, relax. The kids are having fun. Just take it in for a moment.”
“Nope!” I hollered, already on the other side of the yard.
Mickey hovered near the grill and the drinks, intercepting spills and cooking burgers to order. Matthias crouched with Henry and a group of Raven children, helping him tear into a gift with exaggerated seriousness.
Rafe stayed close without hovering, a steady presence at my shoulder.
Every so often his hand brushed my lower back as he passed.
He’d been giving me strange looks all day.
I was sure it was my frazzled appearance, but after the mishap of nearly setting our house on fire last year baking Henry’s cake, I was determined for our son to have a party where his pyro mom didn’t ruin it.
“Cake!” I announced finally, slicing pieces that were absolutely too big. Henry bounced in place. When I knelt to hand him his plate, he threw his arms around my neck without warning, sticky hands and all.
“This is the best birthday ever, mom,” he whispered into my good ear. His throat was healing so well, and speech therapy was going even better.
My throat tightened. I kissed his hair and sent him off, watching him run back to the others, frosting already smeared across his mouth.
I straightened—and realized the yard had gone quiet.
I frowned, my eyes darting around at the sight of way too many large smiles directed toward me.
I glanced down at my dress, thinking that was it, maybe?
It was one of the first I bought for myself, but it took me months before I put it on.
Dresses just carried so many bad memories, but I wanted to make better ones now.
I wiped my sweaty palms down over the flowing skirts, chuckling nervously.
“It’s not that weird, is it?” I asked, my nerves increasing when I noticed Heath was wiping tears from her cheeks.
The kids were clustered at the far end now, Matthias telling them to be quiet, and Mickey had stepped back from the grill, chuckling at my distraught expression. “Turn around, bella,” he said, gesturing with his tongs.
Swallowing, my heart in my throat, I slowly turned, everything in me warming at the sight of Rafe.
He was smiling, his cheeks pink as he waited patiently on one knee in the grass.
My brain went blank until he pulled out a small velvet box and held it out, his scarred but healed hands steady.
He looked up at me, eyes intent, vulnerable.
I know this is mostly superficial at this point, beautiful, but I made you a promise once that I’d put a ring on that finger when we were between hells.
He took a steadying breath as I swayed unevenly.
Whether there is another hell or whether we’ve finally made it to a place of peace, I know there’s no one else I want to experience it with, to wear my ring, and to be my wife.
He took a large breath, his eyes tracing over my face.
I am so in love with you, Arden, and I want it all with you.
I want to raise Henry together, and I want to keep making our house a home, and I just want to keep being with you.
Boring, maybe, but boring sounds really fucking great.
With you, I feel safe. With you, I'm healing.
I…didn't think that would be possible. You've given me so much hope, and I want to give that back to you, for however long I can.
He gently pulled the ring out of the box, holding it up toward me.
“Marr-y me, Ar-r—” he said aloud and swallowed, his eyes shining.
He took another breath, and I gave him that space, so fucking in love with this man.
“Arden?” he finally managed, his dark eyes such a beautiful mirror beneath the sunlight.
My knees gave out. I dropped down in front of him, hands flying to his face as I nodded hard. “Yes,” I breathed, blinking away happy tears. “Yes. Baby, yes.”
He slipped the beautiful ring onto my finger, both of us beaming and crying, before he surged up, arms wrapping around me, lifting me off the ground.
I laughed, hugging him tighter. The backyard erupted with shouts and applause, Rafe gently settling me back in the grass and pressing his forehead to mine.
Healing, he signed. Together.
I kissed him, his hands pressing firmly into my waist, the two of us only breaking apart when several children, including Henry, started shouting, “Ew!”
I laughed, covering my mouth and blushing.
Rafe and I just stood there, staring like lovesick fools, my cheeks hurting from how hard I was smiling.
It was perfect. The entire moment. I never thought I'd say that about anything in my life, but every soft moment I got to hold close to my heart, just like this one, was perfect too.
I loved him, he loved me, and while the last two years had been a lot of stumbling through society's supposed normal, it was ours.
We were making a home together, and as I kissed his cheek, going back to helping with gifts and balloons, I thought this was the best fuck you I could ever offer to a world that had deemed me nothing more than a Doll.
I settled next to Heath on one of the large roots that lifted out of the ground by the willow tree.
It was the reason Rafe and I bought the house; it had a nest of ravens.
I often caught him sitting under it, back pressed to the trunk, sketching in a notebook.
I hadn't even known Rafe liked to draw, and I made sure to get him proper materials.
He cried when I gave him a set of watercolors a few months back.
I kept being amazed—how full my heart could feel after everything.
"You two have made something really beautiful, Arden," Heath said.
She was in a summer dress too, her ginger hair braided back.
While I didn't see the Ravens as often as I wanted, I was glad she, Matthias, and Mickey could make the party.
I'd worked hard to earn their trust back after Alexander, Heath having been the most distant until recently.
I knew she was still mourning Monty and Grace.
"How's Florence?" I asked.
Heath frowned. "You know, I don't really know anymore.
I begged her to come today, but she's almost never home, off doing who the hell knows what.
We're sure it has something to do with S.I.N.
with the amount of bloodied laundry that shows up.
At this point, all we can hope is that it isn't her blood.
Losing someone breaks everyone in different ways.
It just hurts to see Alex's sister breaking in a reckless way.
He was so internal, and I used to hate that, wishing he'd…
I don't know. Scream or something? Now with Florence, I almost wish she shared more of his practicality.
Then maybe we could sit down with her, help her.
I don't know how to show her anymore than we already have that the Ravens are at her disposal.
If she has a vendetta, then I wish she'd just use us.
" She sighed. "She's a headache, and she reminds me a lot of you. "
I folded my fingers between hers, and she squeezed my hand with a small smile. "She'll find her way. I did. Eventually." Then I studied her profile. "And what about you?"
She grimaced. "Waiting."
I looked down at the grass, worry pulling at my brows.
I knew she meant the strange pause that the war between the Ravens and S.I.N.
seemed to be stuck in. I was concerned over the syndicate's silence too, but—"You have to let yourself live, Heath.
If war is coming, then it will come. There's nothing we can do to stop that. "
"I know." She sighed and scrubbed a finger at the side of her nose in irritation. "I'm not getting any younger either."
I rolled my eyes. "We're thirty-one, not ancient. You have time."
"Monty didn't."
We both fell silent, squeezing each others' hands tighter.
"I…miss her, every day," Heath said, her voice cracking. "She was such a bitch, but she was my bitch," she continued through a choked laugh. I couldn't help but laugh too, leaning my head into hers.
"Are you two crying? Not possible after the Mickey Delgado fed you," Mickey said, walking up to us. He was untying his apron, ducking out of it and tossing it at Heath with a grin.
She swatted it away, sniffing. "It was a really good burger," she said heavily.
I wiped tears from my eyes and smiled up at Mickey, who returned it with ease. "Guy can cook."
"Damn right. The cake wasn't bad either, bella. Well done." Mickey dropped down between us, shifting his ass side to side to forcibly push us apart and end our pity party, both Heath and I shoving at him with laughter.
Matthias walked over with his hands in his pockets, his glower shifting between the three of us. "What's so funny?" he asked.
"Don't mind him. He doesn't know how to smile," Mickey said.
Matthias narrowed his eyes on his brother. "You want a beating, baby bro?"
Mickey scoffed. "As if you could win."
"Name the time and place and see red, motherfucker."