Epilogue
Zain and I crossed the Humber Bridge, sunlight sparkling over the river, music blasting through the car speakers. Wind blew my hair, throwing strands this way and that through the open windows. My hair met his in the small space, for a moment light against dark.
I gazed over at Zain in the driver’s seat, at the smile that had not left his face all summer as we traveled across Europe, tanning our skin, visiting bookstores that Cleo had recommended in each new city, and filling our bellies with pizza, crepes, and gelato.
“This is the prettiest part of Hull,” I warned, my voice light, so impossibly light in a way that felt unimaginable a year ago—and for the last three hundred years. “Take it all in while you still can.”
Zain laughed, saying something about how everywhere was pretty if I was next to him. I rolled my eyes, but he knew I enjoyed compliments like that.
As we crossed the other side of the bridge, to meet Nic, my boyfriend said quietly, as though to himself, “We did it.”
I nodded, taking in those three small words.
Despite the difficulty of the past year—of supporting Azar’s reign as Jinn Queen, of helping Zain heal after getting his wings clipped, of keeping secrets from my dad and telling him that I would be deferring university for a year—we had emerged on the other end, not only alive but more than that. We were now living.
Zain could never abandon his duty completely, though, and kept in touch with his charge, acting as a big brother rather than a guardian angel.
I caressed his cheek, felt the warmth and life there.
“We really did it,” I said, all my former selves in agreement.
For the first time, my past selves spanning decades and centuries finally got what we wanted: to love and be loved without running or hiding. All the different versions of me sang with relief. It was a harmony they had not heard before, and it warmed my bones, pleasantly this time.