Epilogue
In the history of the world, there had never been a more beautiful bride than Emily Nightsom. It was impossible.
Nadia stared at her sister and batted back tears.
“I took tons of pictures,” she breathed as she and Em freshened up in the bridal suite after the most romantic wedding possible.
The groom, Jackson Tryne, had quite predictably not waited for permission to kiss his bride.
Several times during the wedding, in fact.
The officiant had finally smacked him on the nose. Not that it had helped.
“I want to watch the video already.” Nadia studied her sister.
Her white gown glimmered with diamond sparkles from the heart-shaped neckline and tight bodice to the flowing material that fell to the floor.
The dress was stunning but the bride breathtaking.
Philip had cried during the ceremony as a very proud father.
Emily’s black eyes held depth and more sparkle than the dress, and her blonde hair, piled high on her head, shone with true platinum shimmer. “Emily, you’re like the sun.”
Emily snorted. “You’re poetic.” She turned, smoothing her hand down the bodice. “One more week, and we would’ve had to let this out.”
“Pregnancy looks good on you,” Nadia noted. Heck. Everything looked good on Em.
“Love looks good on you, little sister.” Emily’s smile softened.
Nadia shook her hips to make her dark green dress swirl around her ankles. “I’m the big sister, remember? The oldest, anyway.” By an entire year.
“I’m taller.”
Yeah, so was everyone else. “What evs.”
Emily coughed. “Lingo? You’ve been spending too much time with the teenagers.”
“They’re good planners.” Nadia had been working on the proposals to combine farming land for all four of the Stope packs, located in every direction. The kids were big thinkers. She leaned in and hugged her sister. “Let’s get back to the party.”
Emily returned the hug, lingering. “I’m so happy I found my sister.” She paused, her entire body stiffening. Then she leaned back. “Um.”
Nadia wiped a tear away. “Don’t tell me. I ruined my makeup.”
“No.” Emily took her hand, her gaze suddenly serious. “Wow. I’m not sure. Should I?”
Nadia squinted. “Are you having a stroke or just talking to yourself?” Was it possible to be too happy?
Emily smiled, curving her generous pink lips. “I’m not the only pregnant female in this suite.”
Nadia paused and looked around. Nobody else was there. She jerked, her eyes widening. “Huh?”
Em laughed. “It’s a gift of mine. I can scent pregnancies before most wolves. In fact, I initially told Luna she was expecting.”
Nadia looked down at her flat stomach. She felt fine. But it wasn’t a huge shock. She had nearly destroyed an entire pack because she couldn’t keep her hands off Caidrik. His body was just so delicious.
“Are you happy about a babe this soon?” Emily asked softly.
Nadia nodded, her throat thickening.
“Good.” Emily took her hand and pulled her through the suite and down the stairs to the tented pavilions in the center of town where a multitude of people from each pack milled around, eating the delicious treats and imbibing plenty of spirits.
“You should tell Caidrik sooner rather than later. I’m not the only one with the gift. ”
Nadia stumbled and then righted herself. “All four of us are pregnant.” The four Alpha females of the Stope Pack Coalition.
Emily hopped once, somehow looking graceful and not cute. “I know. This is excellent. We’ll plan playdates and get the kids close as friends. That’ll ensure a strong future for the coalition.”
Nadia rubbed her eye. “I think they can all only be friends, right? They’re all related in one way or another.”
Emily paused and waved at her mate over by the bar.
Jackson leaned against it, watching her.
The look was intense. “Let’s see. Your kid would not be related in any way to either Seth’s or Erik’s kid.
” She reached for two champagne glasses filled with apple cider.
“Enjoy the non-alcohol. It’s tons of fun. ”
Mia moved up, dressed in a shimmering silver gown with ample material for her protruding belly. “I love the vanilla cupcakes. Could I have the recipe?”
Nadia grinned. “Sure. It’s mine.” She studied the former FBI agent.
Her thick, brunette hair fell around her shoulders, and pure intelligence glimmered in her eyes.
She was a beautiful woman. “Apparently, I’m pregnant as well.
” She should probably tell her mate. “We were just talking about possible future romances.” Although her kids would most likely go for rebels, just like she had.
Mia chuckled. “That’s funny. I guess your child and ours would be a good match. Of course, even though Seth and Erik are related to Jackson, they’re all very distant cousins. Very. So maybe?” She shrugged. “Who knows. So long as they’re all friends and allies, I’m good.”
Luna bopped up, slightly showing in her pink gown. The young scientist was tons of fun. “Fabulous wedding. Where did you get the cupcakes?”
“I’ll send out the recipe,” Nadia promised, her nape tickling. She paused, looking around, and spotted her mate near the exit with his gaze on her. He never quite lost sight of her, and right now, those dark eyes burned. She swallowed.
The orchestra started playing Someone to Watch Over Me.
Mia sighed. “That’s our song.”
Yep. Both Volk brothers were making their way easily through the crowd to reach their mates. Jackson arrived a moment later, and Nadia wasn’t surprised when Caidrik lifted her and then carried her to the dance floor.
Happiness flooded her as she leaned into his strength. In a tux, he was all male animal.
“You look lovely,” he said, again, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Thank you.” She settled into the dance, happy with her friends all dancing around her.
Her gaze caught on his mother holding court with several eligible bachelors by the bar.
Helena had decided to stay with the Slate Pack and would probably make a very fun and slightly dangerous grandmother.
She had reported in that Bulwark and his Ghostwind Pack had left the territory for good, which had pleased Caidrik greatly.
The Ravencalls had disappeared, as well.
Caught by the music, Nadia looked up, captured by Caidrik’s dark eyes. Like usual. She’d never imagined being this happy in life. “Apparently, I’m pregnant.”
He jolted slightly, and those eyes warmed. “You sure?”
“Pretty sure.” She smiled. They hadn’t talked about kids too much, but she knew he wanted them. “Are you happy?”
“More than I ever thought possible.” He pulled her closer. “I love you, my organized little planner. The future is good, Nadia.”
Yeah. This was forever, and it was only the beginning.
Have you read the Knife’s Edge, Alaska romances yet? Here’s a taste with the beginning of Dead of Winter:
A brutal sun cut across the icy Alaskan landscape with a defiant glare, brightening instead of warming the frozen runway outside. Mountains rose all around, their jagged peaks rocky through the barren snow, an invitation from Mother Nature to challenge her and lose.
FBI Special Agent Ophelia Spilazi rubbed her arms through her leather jacket, safely ensconced in the warming hut.
The silent, empty, lonely warming hut that truly didn’t provide warmth.
A wooden bench ran alongside one wall, the only furniture in the rickety structure.
Icicles hung from the eaves outside, several long enough to touch the ground, while the meager sun warmed them, making the ice sparkle like diamonds.
The sheer isolation of the area was both intriguing and ominous.
A low hum pierced the thundering silence outside, and her breath quickened in natural response. She craned her neck to see out the frozen, crud-covered window to the unreal blue sky, her shoulders tensing even more as a dot of a plane dipped over the nearest mountain and dropped fast to land.
She blinked.
The small plane hit hard, bounced several times, and skidded back and forth before lurching to a drunken halt to the right of the so-called runway.
The plane shuddered and the engine silenced, the machine looking miniature against the wild mountains that served as a backdrop. Her stomach lurched. She wanted to take another Valium, but she had to at least appear professional to these nomads who chose to live in the middle of absolutely nowhere.
The pilot jumped out, and she stopped breathing at her first sight of him.
Wavy black hair framed a hard-cut face, scruff covered his rugged jaw, and aviator glasses shielded his eyes.
His ancestry was difficult to gauge, but his features were native and strong.
Possibly some Inuit or Indigenous American heritage.
He had to be well over six feet tall, muscled and oddly graceful, even with a slight limp.
She zeroed in on his left leg. He favored it slightly but didn’t allow it to shorten his stride.
Interesting.
He wore a heavy leather jacket, jeans, and dark boots, his shielded gaze at her having a punch of power, even through the dingy window.
She swallowed, grateful that sunglasses hid her eyes, which had to be wide and full of doubt after witnessing that excruciating landing on the ice.
The man approaching her wasn’t anything close to the old, grizzly, and bearded pilot who’d brought her from Anchorage, the one who had said—repeatedly—that she was nuts to keep going west with a late but devastating winter coming.
She’d imagined someone similar picking her up today.
This guy was beyond imagination.
He pulled open the door and paused, instant heat rippling from him. “Special Agent Spilazi?” That voice. A slow, deep roll that contrasted with the stark beauty around them.
“Call me Ophelia.” She held out a hand, still feeling off-balance. She was tall for a woman, very, but he towered over her.