Epilogue
“We were always destined to be lovers, Aila.”
Lying in bed with Aila is my favorite thing to do. She makes a dangerously attractive vampire, but she was forever gorgeous to me right from the start. I fell in love with her resilient spirit, and she brought that with her after the change.
“I think myōps would call us life partners. Except we’re not alive.”
Seeing my world through her newly awakened eyes is charming. She marvels that we can sleep, dream, and get loaded just the same as humans do. Learning the difference between myth and truth brings my lover endless fascination.
“Ah, Theron, why don’t I miss the inconsistencies of my soul?” Snuggling next to me, she traces her finger down my chest.
“You talking about all the doubt, sorrow, and trauma that comes from such a fleeting life?”
Smirking, she allows her finger to trail all the way down to the thickening root of my shaft. “Yes. But hearing you put it that way…”
My brave, beautiful vampire lover. She is my equal in all things.
Her alabaster body is flawless, the warm welcome of her clenching pussy drips with slick moisture as I slide into her. We kiss with hungry eagerness, teasing each other with soft nibbles and bites.
Our lovemaking has gotten rougher since Aila’s metamorphosis. She is greedy to push her unbreakable body to its limit, contorting it into lascivious positions guaranteed to milk me dry with the greatest amount of pleasure.
With me leaning my back against the wall, I grab her ass as her limber legs wrap around my waist. She would never fall—her strength is as fierce as her sexual drive—but I love the way her peachy butt feels in my hands.
Splitting her wide as I thrust into her, I let Aila rise up and down to pump as much of me into her as she can handle. Pulling my neck down, she feasts on my kisses, letting me lick her throat and face so that I can taste her essence.
The moment her eyes shut, I know she’s close to coming. The wetness from her creamy slit drips over my balls, scenting them with her special perfume.
Our fangs slide out, relishing the orgasmic sensation as it crashes over us in waves.
Falling back onto the bed, we laugh with crazed satisfaction, kissing and hugging with zero restraint.
Aila giggles. “We’re going to have to redecorate Ben’s and Amelia’s bedroom after this, you realize? It reeks of fluids.”
Ben and Amelia left us in charge of the farm while they traveled to Winnipeg to get married.
Ben was so shocked at being ordered around after Amelia’s “accident”—because he was not officially connected to her—that he insisted on putting a ring on it as soon as Amelia was well enough to make the trip.
Amelia’s memory was shot when she regained consciousness. Ben insisted on keeping her in the hospital for all the tests just to make sure. But she can’t remember anything about that day or night. As for the bloodstain on the rug, we pretended that was where Amelia was originally attacked.
Ben, however, was happy to agree that shock made him imagine me as a monster. Maybe happy is an exaggeration. Let’s say he was relieved to grab onto a feasible explanation for his “hallucination.”
Fucking myōps.
Kelly and the kids left Landslide as soon as Piers’s body was “discovered.” Not because she was devastated by the incident but so she could monetize her proximity to the “senseless tragedy.”
And it turned out that Kelly’s boyfriend came back into her life with a story of his own—and a million dollars in his bank account—because Piers had paid him to pretend to break up with Kelly so that he could take his place.
Their tale was told after that little tidbit of information came out. They became reluctant to do interviews after that.
The press put the accident down to yet another quadbike death.
The tourists were anxious to blame the terrifying skyquake for frightening Piers into losing control of the ATV.
As for the reason why Piers was so keen to visit Landslide, that was written up as his long-term fascination with birdwatching. Landslide money being put to good use towards bribes to tilt the story away from the Midnight Riders Motorcycle Club yet again.
We were bracing ourselves for the impact of billionaire Jordan wrath.
But it never came.
Turns out, the Jorden dynasty was just as fucked up as their family values were.
So, it turns out, Piers Jordan the Second, the father, had another family stashed away. The messy divorce took up so much of the parents’ attention and time, they took one look at the indemnity form and accepted our accident narrative.
I think it helped that Piers Jordan the Second already had three little sons with his mistress. And it would help the world if the man didn’t overindulge them like he had with his firstborn son.
“Vince came by. He says your fake IDs are ready.” Stroking a strand of chestnut hair off Aila’s face, I tilt her chin so that she is facing me. “Y’know we can’t stay here, right?”
She sighs, those dark brown eyes becoming dewy with emotion.
“Yeah. I know. After all the time Mom and me spent together, there is no lie in the world that could explain away my transformation.”
Aila’s transformation is glorious. Her long hair cascades in waves down her back, enveloping the curves of her sensational feminine shape and the long lines of her rounded limbs. Beauty walks, and its name is Aila.
“Where d’you wanna go?”
Brushing her lips against me, Aila whispers her desire.
“I want to try and find the Red Queen of Death.”