41. EPILOGUE 2
CILLIAN
Ashbourne House smelled like home—peat fire, roasted meat, faint salt of the sea. We sat around the big oak table, plates loaded, loud voices. Ma, Da, Keira, Lorcan, and Rory. Fifteen now and already built like a brick wall, all boxer energy and Ashbourne trouble.
Ma leaned forward, eyes warm on Moon. “So how’s Yuna doing, Hyun?”
Moon’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. “She’s thriving in Aster Court. I only told her not to go near Thorn and no dating Thorn boys. I’m happy with that.”
I took a long drink. “Hey. Us Thorn boys aren’t that bad.”
Moon rolled his eyes, but his mouth twitched. “She’s actually dating an Aster guy, so—”
I leaned in. “You know that only makes it easier for them to fool around, aye? Remember you and me. I spent every fucking resource I had trying to get in your pants.”
Moon’s face went red. “Shush. Not in front of your parents. And we’re eating. Plus, Rory is sitting right there. He’s only fifteen.”
Ma pointed her fork at us, smiling. “Boys. Behave.”
Moon shot me a look. “He’s the one who never behaves. If only one time he could behave.”
Keira laughed. “Yeah, well I hate to break it to you, Hyun, but Ashbourne men never change.”
Ma sighed. “Well, I tried raising them the best I could. But I wanted girls. And look what God gave me.”
The table erupted in laughter. Even Da cracked a grin.
Rory sat up straighter, chest puffed. “I’m gonna be Thorn too. I just know it. I’ve already been planning on winning all the underground fights.”
Keira rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Yeah, it’s all he talks about. And practices for.”
Lorcan pulled his son in, rough. “Yes, you will, son. Show those cunts—”
Keira smacked his arm. “No cursing at the dinner table.”
Lorcan shrugged. “Just saying. I’m proud of my kid.”
I slid my hand onto Moon’s thigh under the table and squeezed. “So… we’ve been talking,” I said. “About starting a family.”
Da stopped mid-drink. Ma’s eyes went wide.
Moon looked at me, surprised. I pulled him closer, arm slung around his shoulders. “Yeah. We’re looking into adoption. Maybe surrogacy too.”
The table exploded with joy. Chairs scraped back, crowded around us with hugs and congratulations. Ma kissed Moon’s cheek. Da clapped me on the back hard enough to rattle my teeth.
“I’d say we do both,” I added, grinning.
Lorcan barked a laugh. “Yeah, watch yourself, Hyun. This guy will have twenty kids if you let him. All fighters. All Ashbourne personality. You better heavily influence those kids, or you’re gonna have a house full of brutes.”
Keira swatted him again. “Stop. I think this is great.”
Moon took a sip of wine, cheeks flushed but smiling. “Yes. I think one would be enough for me, but I know Cillian will be a good father. I’m getting there.”
Ma reached over and squeezed Moon’s hand. “A child doesn’t need perfect, love. They need someone who stays.”
I leaned in, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Nah. I got faith in you, lad.”
Moon elbowed me. “Don’t call me lad.”
***
I leaned back in the armchair, whiskey glass loose in my hand, and watched them.
Moon looked relaxed. Really relaxed. Shoulders down, laugh coming easier, cheeks flushed from the wine and the fire.
Ma kept finding reasons to touch him, squeezing his hand, fixing his sleeve, pushing more food onto his plate.
Da gave him one of those small, solemn nods that meant more than praise from anyone else.
Keira and Lorcan dragged him into every argument, demanding he take sides and turning on him whenever he chose wrong.
Even Rory had planted himself beside Moon’s chair, reenacting his latest boxing match because Moon had laughed the first time.
It was good to see.
House of Moon kept him busy. His father kept him performing for scraps of praise. The board kept taking his time because Moon kept handing it over.
He was getting better at saying no. I made sure they heard it. One of them cursed him out on Tuesday. On Wednesday, he arrived with expensive wine and a trembling apology.
Moon was stunned.
I smiled into my glass.
They mistook his restraint for permission.
Mine for mercy.
Nathaniel may or may not know. I didn’t give a shit. Anything to keep Moon safe.
I still took the jobs he sent me. He insisted I handle them myself. No one else. Just me and whatever needed to disappear.
Besides, he'd lock himself in the bathroom and turn the shower on so I wouldn’t hear him lose control. The first time, I let him tell me he was fine.
The second time, I kicked the door down. He was curled beside the bathtub, choking on breaths that wouldn’t settle. I got him to look at me. He apologized for being difficult to love. I never forgot that. I heard it every day after that.
Every fucking day. Which was why I wanted him away from that life. Just us. I wanted to give him the family he should’ve had. One that didn’t punish him for taking up space. One that made this version of him possible.
And yeah… a house full of kids someday. I’d fill it with as many as he’d let me. And then a few more just to be sure.
But my responsibilities were with the Ashbourne name. Everyone thought inheriting it meant blood and guns. Mostly it meant men twice my age lying across polished tables while I decided which lie would cost us least.
Da had already handed me pieces of the organization. The Belfast ports. The Dublin disputes. I traveled constantly between Ireland and New York to solve problems. It was fucking exhausting.
I would never admit it to anyone.
Leaving Moon, knowing he could become a target, tore at me.
Hence the security. He didn’t know two cars rotated behind him every morning.
Didn’t know the driver he trusted reported straight to me.
Didn’t know I owned the apartment across from his office.
Didn’t know I’d already stocked a safe house three hours away with his preferred tea and clothes in his exact size.
Da had stopped answering questions. Left them all to me.
More people noticed me disappearing to New York for Moon. Taking spontaneous trips. Bringing him to Ireland. Putting his safety ahead of strategic decisions. But how could I not? Family always came first. He was influencing my priorities.
I couldn't remember the last time I’d slept more than three hours in a forty-eight-hour span.
I woke the second Moon shifted beside me.
Years of danger had trained me not to relax.
My jaw fucking hurt from grinding my teeth.
Insane migraines after every flight; I just took pills for them.
Old boxing injuries flared in the winter cold.
I ran on caffeine, then whiskey to make the shaking stop.
I didn’t always know where I was when I woke up.
Sometimes I woke up reaching for my gun. Sometimes I woke up reaching for him.
If Moon knew all the shit I’d done behind the scenes… I was worried he’d become scared of me. Because even I didn’t recognize the boy I used to be.
But I couldn’t run.
Because running wouldn't make the Ashbourne world disappear. It would only leave me weaker when it came for Moon.
We said our goodnights and left the main house.
I took Moon’s hand. He swayed a little.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have drunk as much as I did.”
I pulled him into my side, arm locked around his waist so he wouldn’t stumble. We walked like that through the dark. I kissed the top of his head.
“A chroí. I like you drunk.”
Moon leaned into me. “It’s so peaceful at the estate.”
We walked through the walled gardens. The large stone manor sat behind us, lights glowing soft in the windows. Ahead, the stone cottage came into view—fireplace already lit, old boxing trophies on the shelves, Catholic pieces on the walls.
Moon went straight to brush his teeth. I stripped down and got into bed, popping two pills for the migraine that had been grinding behind my eyes since the flight.
When he came back he slid under the covers and frowned at the bottle on the nightstand.
“What were those?”
“Just a headache.”
I pulled him back against my chest, bit the side of his neck. He whined, soft.
“We have to sleep,” I murmured against his skin. “We’re getting up early. Breakfast, then get on the road.”
Moon settled deeper into me. “Okay. But try to get some sleep then.”
I kissed the back of his neck. “I sleep better when I know where you are.”
He turned just enough for me to catch his mouth. We kissed slow until the fire burned lower and sleep finally took us both.
***
We’d left after breakfast. The road stretched empty and green. Cliffs started to show on the horizon. Dún Aonghasa was still a few hours out. Moon shifted in the passenger seat, restless.
“So,” he said. “Since David is officially a no-go… what’s my coffee order?”
I glanced over, took his hand, and kissed his knuckles. “Iced oat milk latte. Two shots. Light ice. Half a pump of vanilla. If they’re out of oat, iced americano with one pump. But if you’re ordering it yourself in public?” I squeezed his hand. “Black. Always black.”
Moon looked out the window and bit his lower lip. Then he laughed once. “Okay. Okay. You get the job. You’re officially my new assistant.”
I kissed his knuckles again.
Moon pulled his hand away. “Nice try. That would be sexual harassment. You can’t touch me when you’re my assistant.”
I smirked. “You wound me, husband.”
“Okay, but you do know I still need David around, right? He picks out ties. Gets the lint off my clothes. Carries extra umbrellas and tissues. Tracks every appointment. Tells me when I actually need to leave. Reroutes me around traffic—”
“Blah blah blah, baby.” I cut him off, smirking. “All that shite is boring. Think of the things I add. I can suck your cock wherever you want me to. Bend you over your desk between meetings. Pep-talk you while I fuck you if you’d like. Tell you how good you are. How fucking smart you are.”
Moon laughed, covering his face. “Oh my God.”
“I’m just saying,” I continued. “I’m the better assistant. And I’ll handle anyone who looks at you wrong or dares open their mouth against you in a meeting. Permanently, if I have to.”
Moon reached over and touched the back of my head, fingers sliding into my hair.
“It’s okay, Cillian. Just let David stay. But nobody could ever replace you.”
I looked at him and put a hand on his cheek, thumb stroking slow.
“A chroí. I love you.”
Moon leaned into my palm, eyes soft. “I love you too. But please look at the road when you’re driving.”
We arrived at Dún Aonghasa late afternoon. Wind hit us the second we stepped out of the car. The stone fort sat on the edge of the world—cliffs dropping straight into the Atlantic, no railings, just rock and sky and the endless crash of waves far below.
I walked out onto the edge without thinking.
“Cillian—” Moon’s voice cut sharp. He grabbed my arm and yanked me back. “That’s fucking dangerous.”
I laughed and scooped him up before he could protest. Carried him straight to the cliff edge and held him tight against my chest, arms locked around him. “It’s okay, baby. I used to do this all the time.”
Moon leaned into me hard, fingers digging into my jacket. “I don’t like this.”
“You scared of heights?”
“I’m scared of falling to my death. Yeah.”
I pressed my mouth to his temple. “I would never let that happen.”
Moon went quiet for a long moment, staring out at the ocean. The wind whipped his hair. “This is so intense,” he murmured. “It feels like the end of the world.”
“Yeah.” I held him tighter. “I used to come here whenever I wanted the world to fuck off. Couldn’t come back without you. You’re the only person I never want to.”
Moon froze in my arms.
He turned slowly, still holding onto me because of the drop behind us, and looked up.
“What are you talking about, Cillian?”
I put my forehead to his. Closed my eyes.
“I’ll always find you.”
A chroí.
Home.
Moon leaned into me, voice quiet against the wind.
“I know.”
The sea crashed against the cliffs below.
Neither of us looked away.
THE END