Epilogue
Three months later…
Chloe reached out and found cool sheets where Victor should have been. It wasn’t a surprise—she’d stopped being startled by his nighttime disappearances weeks ago. She knew exactly where he was. She smiled and walked quietly down the hallway, her bare feet quiet on the hardwood floor.
The nursery door stood ajar, the warm glow of the moon lamp they’d bought at the Yuletide Festival spilling across the floor. She padded barefoot across the hardwood. Her body still felt foreign two months postpartum. Softer in some places and firmer in others, but strong and capable.
She paused in the doorway and saw Victor was exactly where she expected him to be, sitting in the rocking chair with their daughter cradled against his chest. His eyes glowed green in the dim light and a deep, rumbling purr vibrated through the room.
Hyde. Or Victor. Or both. They blurred together these days, especially around the baby.
“She’s asleep,” she whispered.
Green eyes looked up and met hers. “I know.”
“Then why are you still holding her?”
“Because she’s perfect.”
Her heart squeezed. Two months of this—two months of watching the brilliant, controlled Dr. Jackson turn into a complete puddle around their daughter.
Angel Rose Jackson. Seven pounds, three ounces. She had dark brown hair like Chloe’s and eyes that shifted between grey and green depending on her mood.
The most loved baby in Fairhaven Falls.
Possibly the world.
“You’ve been in here for an hour,” she said softly.
“She was fussy.”
“She’s been asleep for forty-five minutes.”
He looked down at the baby in his arms, at her tiny fist curled against his shirt and her rosebud mouth making soft sucking motions even in sleep.
“She might wake up.”
“Then we’ll hear her on the monitor.”
“What if she needs something?”
“Victor.” She crossed over and placed her hand on his shoulder. “She’s fine.”
The purr deepened, not quite Hyde but not quite human either. Something in between that had become Victor’s natural state around Angel.
Protective, devoted, and completely besotted.
“I just want to make sure—”
“I know.” She squeezed his shoulder. “But you need sleep too.”
“Hyde doesn’t need much sleep.”
“Victor does.”
Green eyes met hers again, so full of love it made her breath catch.
“I can’t help it,” he said. “She’s so small. So fragile. So—”
“Ours,” she finished. “I know. I feel it too.”
She did. The overwhelming need to watch over this tiny person they’d created. But she’d learned to set Angel down and walk away, to trust that the monitor would alert them if anything was wrong.
Victor was still learning that part. Well, Victor was. Hyde absolutely was not.
“Just five more minutes,” he said.
She bit back a smile. “That’s what you said an hour ago.”
“This time I mean it.”
“Mm-hmm.”
But she didn’t push. Just settled her hand on his shoulder and let him have it for a little while longer. Their daughter, safe and warm and perfect.
The deep rhythmic purr continued and Angel’s breathing matched it, in and out in perfect synchronization. The two of them had bonded the moment Angel was born. The moment the midwife had placed the baby on her chest and Victor had touched her tiny hand.
His eyes had flashed green and his hands had grown larger, larger enough to surround the baby with a protective shield. And Hyde had rumbled one word. Ours.
“She smiled at me earlier,” he said. “A real smile. Not gas.”
“She smiles at you all the time.”
“This was different. She saw me. Knew me.”
“Of course she knows you. You’re her father.”
“Both of me,” he said softly. “She wasn’t afraid when Hyde was close to the surface. She just smiled.”
Her throat tightened. “She loves you. All of you.”
“I don’t deserve—”
“Stop.” She crouched beside the chair and looked up at him. At the man who’d spent years convinced he was too dangerous to have a family and who now spent every free moment with that family.
“You deserve this,” she said firmly. “You deserve her. You deserve all of it.”
He wrapped his free hand around hers. “I never thought—”
“I know.”
“Never imagined—”
“I know that too.”
He looked at her, green eyes glowing with wonder and gratitude and bone-deep happiness.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “For this. For her. For everything.”
She squeezed his hand. “You gave me everything too.”
“I gave you a broken doctor and an unstable monster.”
“You gave me love and safety. A home.” She touched his face. “A family.”
The purr deepened as Hyde responded. He was so close to the surface now, not because Victor was losing control, but because he didn’t need it anymore.
Angel stirred, murmuring in her sleep, and he froze. “She’s waking up.”
“She’s just dreaming.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
But he didn’t move, still watching Angel with those glowing green eyes, ready to respond to her slightest need. He was the best kind of father—present, attentive, and loving. Everything his own father hadn’t been. Everything he’d convinced himself he could never be.
Angel settled back into sleep, the tiny crease between her eyebrows smoothing out.
“See?” she said. “She’s fine.”
“This time.”
“Every time.”
He looked at her. “You’re very patient with me. Flora said I was being ridiculous.”
“Flora thinks everyone is ridiculous.”
“She said Hyde needs to calm down.”
She grinned at him. “Flora can mind her own business.”
He returned the smile. “You realize that you’re defending Hyde’s parenting.”
“Hyde’s parenting is excellent. Overzealous, maybe, but excellent.”
The purr turned satisfied, almost smug, but she understood that combination of new parent anxiety mixed with magic and monster instinct. It was a potent combination.
“All right,” he said finally. “I’ll put her down.”
“You don’t have to if you’re not ready.”
“I’m not, but she needs to sleep in her crib.”
He rose carefully, Angel still cradled against his chest. She watched him cross to the crib and settle their daughter onto the soft mattress and arrange her blanket just so. And then pause, his hand still hovering over Angel.
“Victor,” she said gently.
“I’m coming.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. In a moment.”
She crossed over to him and slipped her arm around his waist. “She’s perfect. She’s safe. She’s loved.”
“I know.”
“Then come to bed.”
He looked down at their sleeping daughter and then at her.
“What if—”
“We have the monitor. We’ll hear her if she needs us.”
“What if the monitor breaks?”
“Then we’ll hear her anyway. She has excellent lungs.”
His lips twitched again. “She does.”
She tugged his hand gently and he let himself be pulled away from the crib. One step. Two. Then he stopped and looked back.
“Victor.”
“I just want to make sure—”
“She’s breathing. I can see her from here.”
“But—”
“Bed. Now.”
He sighed, but he let her tug him towards the door and into the hallway, leaving the nursery door cracked behind them
“See?” she said. “The world didn’t end.”
“It might.”
“It won’t. Angel is the safest baby in the world with you watching over her.”
“Always,” he said. “I’ll always watch over her.”
“But right now, you need to watch over yourself too.” She touched his chest and felt the rumble of Hyde’s purr. “You can’t take care of her if you don’t take care of yourself.”
“Hyde doesn’t need—”
“Hyde needs rest too. Even guardians need to recharge.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then: “When did you get so wise?”
“About two months ago when I pushed a human being out of my body.”
He laughed, the sound surprising them both. He laughed more often now, but it still wasn’t often enough. She made a mental note to work on that.
“Now come to bed,” she said again, letting her hand drift down his chest. “I need my husband.”
His eyes flashed a brighter green and his muscles expanded slightly. Not a full transformation. Just Hyde rising closer to the surface. Close enough to reach down and sweep her off her feet.
Literally.
“Victor!” She laughed as he lifted her. “What are you doing?”
“Taking my wife to bed.”
“I can walk.”
“I know, but Hyde wants to carry you.”
“Hyde is very demanding.”
“Hyde is very in love.”
She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting herself be carried down the hallway to their bedroom. He set her down gently on the bed, his eyes still glowing and his purr still rumbling.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“For loving me. Both of me. For giving me this.” He glanced toward the nursery. Toward Angel. “For showing me I could have this.”
She pulled him down beside her. “You showed me the same thing. That I could have a real partner, a real family, and real love—messy and complicated and absolutely perfect.”
He kissed her, deep and slow and full of promise, as his hands moved over her body, leaving a trail of fire behind. She met him kiss for kiss, her body already humming with need as his touch grew bolder.
And then his hands grew larger.
“Show me,” she whispered against his lips. “Show me how much you love me.”
A low growl was his only response as his body shifted and expanded, the hard planes of his chest pressing against hers, his hands framing her face as he kissed her again. This kiss was different. Deeper and more possessive. More primal. Hyde rising to the surface.
His hands—now larger and greener—roamed her body, his touch both reverent and demanding, his. Victor and Hyde, fused together in their shared love for her.
“Please,” she gasped against his mouth. “Now.”
He entered her in one long, slow thrust, and she gasped at the overwhelming fullness that still felt like coming home.
He began to move, his thrusts deep and measured, his body a heavy, warm weight over hers.
His mouth found hers, his kiss hungry and demanding as his hands tangled in her hair, holding her captive.
She was completely surrounded by him, by his scent and his strength and his love.
“I love you,” she gasped, her hands clutching at his back as he drove her higher. “Both of you.”
He roared, a sound of pure possession, and increased his pace, his thrusts harder, faster, more demanding.
He was all Hyde now, all raw strength and desperate need, and she urged him on, her body arching to meet his, taking everything he had to give.
The tension coiled deep inside her, tighter and tighter, until she thought she would break.
And then she shattered, her orgasm so powerful it stole her breath, her body convulsing around his.
He followed her over the edge with a hoarse cry, his release a hot, wet rush that left them both trembling and breathless.
He collapsed onto his side, pulling her with him, his arms still wrapped around her.
They lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat, their breathing ragged in the quiet room.
His chest was a solid wall of muscle against her back, his arms a secure band around her.
She felt his heart hammering against her, a frantic, wild rhythm that slowly, gradually, began to even out.
The green fire in his eyes softened, and the hard lines of his face blurred back to the familiar, beloved features of Victor.
“Sleep now,” she whispered.
His arms tightened around her. “With you.”
And she slept, safe and warm and loved, wrapped in the arms of her Jekyll and her Hyde.