Epilogue
Ten days later…
More than a week after Phin learned that dragons proposed differently than humans, she stood in the middle of the Moon Creek Falls fire station and watched her fiancé identify every piece of equipment Chief Morrison pointed to as if he had been born in turnout gear.
He hadn’t, of course.
Rhaz had been born a prince in another realm and spent most of his life surrounded by oases, a grand palace, courtiers, weapons, dragons, and expectations heavy enough to crush a mountain.
But give Rhaziel Stormfyr one week with Phin, Anon, and a stack of fire department manuals, and he could memorize everything from hose diameters to radio codes without breaking a sweat.
Chief Morrison stood beside Engine Two with his arms crossed over his chest and a look on his face Phin had come to recognize. It was the look of a man trying very hard not to be impressed.
“You know doing things this way is highly irregular,” he said to Phin. He faced Rhaz again and tapped the long metal tool in his hand. “And this?”
“Halligan bar,” Rhaz said at once. “Used for forcible entry, prying, twisting, punching, and striking. Most commonly paired with a flathead axe. A useful tool, though the balance could be improved.”
Phin covered her mouth. This had been going on for a half an hour. They were waiting for Anon to deliver Rhaz’s “paperwork”. She didn’t want to know how he was going to come up with it and didn’t ask.
Chief Morrison’s eyes narrowed at the Halligan bar. “The balance is fine.”
“For human use, perhaps,” Rhaz said.
“Rhaz,” Phin murmured.
He glanced at her, then back at Hank. “The balance is adequate.”
“Hmmm,” Hank mused. “You’re sharp, I’ll give you that. When did you say your credentials would be emailed from your department?”
Anon, who’d been leaning against the side of the engine with the smug satisfaction of a tutor whose student just passed a difficult examination, smiled. “Soon enough, chief.” He beamed at Rhaz. “Diplomacy. Excellent. We reviewed that yesterday.”
Hank grunted. “Did you also review not insulting my equipment?”
“That was scheduled for tomorrow,” Anon said.
Phin leaned against the workbench, warmth spreading through her chest as she watched them.
A week ago, the idea of Rhaz becoming her fire chief had seemed impossible.
Not because he wasn’t capable, but because the entire idea was so ordinary and so extraordinary at the same time.
A dragon prince from another realm, standing in a small coastal fire station, learning where the spare nozzles were kept and how to fill out incident reports.
Yet here he was.
He’d spent the past week studying like a man preparing for war.
Phin drilled him on the trucks, the gear, the layout of the station, and the personalities of every volunteer in the department.
Then she’d gone over all the EMT manuals.
Anon had drilled him on local customs, paperwork, politics, and the subtle art of not sounding as if he had arrived in Moon Creek Falls by way of a medieval throne room.
Rhaz absorbed it all with that terrifying steel-trap memory of his.
Rhaz’s people really were the academics of his race.
He wasn’t perfect. He still referred to some tools as weapons when he forgot himself.
He thought several safety regulations were obvious to the point of insult, and almost broke one of Quill’s ribs practicing CPR.
He also asked why the department didn’t simply reinforce the station roof so he could land on it in dragon form during an emergency.
But he was trying.
More than that, he cared.
Chief Morrison tested him with two more pieces of equipment, then pointed toward the turnout gear hanging in neat rows. “All right. Talk me through structure fire response. You’re first on scene. Residential. Smoke showing from the second floor. Possible child inside.”
Phin’s smile faded.
Rhaz didn’t hesitate. His posture changed, not a lot, but enough for Phin to see the prince, the warrior, and the dragon settle beneath the man.
“Establish command. Size up the scene. Confirm address and conditions. Request additional resources if needed. Identify hazards. Determine entry points and potential rescue route. No one enters without gear, backup, and communication. Life safety first. Then incident stabilization. Then property conservation.”
Hank’s expression softened by a fraction. “And if you know there’s a child inside?”
Rhaz’s gaze flicked to Phin, and she knew he was remembering Lily Parker and the burning house that brought him into her life.
His voice lowered. “Then I bring the child out.”
Hank held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “You still do it right.”
“Yes,” Rhaz said. “I still do it right.”
Jackson wandered in through the open bay door carrying a cardboard tray of coffees, and the moment broke. “I brought reinforcements.”
Hana followed him with a pastry box from Sweet Haven Bakery, looking bright and happy. “And I brought cinnamon rolls because Phin texted me that Hank was testing Rhaz again.”
“I didn’t say testing,” Phin said. “Just making sure there aren’t too many differences between what we do here in the States and where Rhaz is from.”
Hana smiled. “You sent three fire emojis and the word help.”
Everyone laughed as Jackson set the coffees on the workbench. “How’s he doing?”
Chief Morrison took one of the cups and glanced at Rhaz. “Annoyingly well.”
Rhaz inclined his head. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t entirely a compliment,” the chief said.
“I accept it anyway.”
Hana laughed and handed Phin the pastry box. “Speaking of things going well, I brought the fabric samples you wanted to see.”
Phin blinked. “For what?”
“For wedding colors.”
Phin’s face screwed up “Why?”
“Jackson’s and my wedding is in the fall. Yours and Rhaz’s will be after that. Unless your mother gets her hands on both of us and decides we’re doing everything at once.”
Across the station, Jackson nearly dropped his coffee. “We are not doing a double wedding.”
“That’s what Richard said,” Phin told him.
Jackson gave her a curt nod. “Richard is a wise man.”
“He said it while looking terrified of Jessica,” Phin informed him.
Jackson nodded gravely. “That sounds wise to me.”
Hana linked her arm through Phin’s and drew her away from the men. “Come on. Just look. You don’t have to decide anything today. I only want to know if you like the blue or the green better.”
Phin looked at the little squares of fabric Hana produced from her bag and tried not to feel overwhelmed.
A wedding. Her wedding. To Rhaz. Some part of her still expected to wake up and find herself working at the hardware store, stocking screws and wondering what she was supposed to do with her life.
Instead, she was engaged to a dragon, helping him train to become fire chief, and comparing fabric swatches with a baker who was marrying a werewolf in the fall.
“I like the blue,” Phin finally said.
Hana’s expression gentled. “Because of the ring?”
Phin looked down at her hand. The blue stone caught the station light and seemed to glow. “Maybe.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Sometimes I still can’t believe it’s mine.”
“The ring, or the dragon?”
Phin looked across the station at Rhaz. He was listening to Chief Morrison explain something about maintenance logs, his head bent and his expression intent. He looked too large for the room and somehow perfectly placed in it.
“Both,” she said.
Hana squeezed her arm. “You look happy.”
Phin swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “I am.”
At the workbench, Anon opened a leather folder and spread several papers across the scarred surface as if the fire station were a perfectly suitable place to begin planning a political campaign. Knowing Anon, he thought any place became suitable the moment he chose to use it.
Jackson leaned over the papers with mild suspicion. “Are those campaign notes?”
“Preliminary observations,” Anon said.
Jackson peered at them again. “They look like campaign notes.”
Chief Morrison came over. “You still thinking about running against me?”
Anon gave him a pleasant smile. “Thinking is such a strong word.”
Hank snorted. “You’ve got a folder.”
“I enjoy folders.”
Phin exchanged a glance with Hana and tried not to laugh.
For the past week, Anon had insisted he was merely considering what would be best for Moon Creek Falls.
He’d said it in the same tone he used when pretending he didn’t care about Louise’s latest column or Basil’s opinions on soup. Which meant he cared very much indeed.
Jackson picked up one of the pages. “Preserve coastal character. Improve emergency preparedness. Protect historic buildings. Strengthen local business support. Prevent irresponsible development.” He looked at Anon. “These are campaign notes.”
Anon took the page back. “Those are civic concerns.”
“They have headings.”
“Civic concerns may have headings,” Anon sniffed.
Hank shook his head, though he didn’t look offended. “You know, Blackstone, most folks wait until the other candidate retires from the fire department before trying to steal his next job.”
“You are running for mayor, Hank. Rhaz is being considered for fire chief. Entirely separate matters.”
Rhaz looked from one man to the other. “Is this a conflict?”
“No,” Hank said at the same time Anon said, “Not yet.”
Phin pressed her lips together. Should she intervene?
Jackson studied Anon for a long moment, then smiled a little too slowly. “So, do you think Phin’s aunt is going to give you any trouble?”
Anon’s hand stilled on the folder.
It was barely noticeable. But Phin had spent enough time around Anon, Rhaz, and the others to know that stillness was not nothing. His expression remained composed, his posture elegant and polite. But his eyes lit up. Not much, but enough.
“Oh my,” Hana whispered beside Phin.
So Hana caught it too. Phin elbowed her gently.
Anon adjusted one cuff. “Ruthann Ironwood is an attorney from Portland who came to town for a toothache and a brief family visit. I fail to see why she should trouble me.”
Jackson’s grin widened. “That didn’t answer the question.”
Anon stared down his nose at him. “It answered the question perfectly.”
Jackson shook his head. “No, it danced around the question wearing expensive shoes.” He made a point of looking at Anon’s.
Hank nodded. “That’s accurate.”
Anon gave them both a look. “She came to assist Hank for a few days. A capable woman, certainly. Intelligent. Disciplined. Rather direct. And she has lovely teeth. But no one can accomplish very much in a few days.”
Phin looked up from the blue fabric swatch. “Um, Auntie Roo called this morning.”
Anon turned in her direction a little too quickly, and Phin sensed Hana go still beside her. “She did?” Anon asked.
Phin nodded. “She had to go back to Portland to move some things around with work, but she told Dad she cleared her schedule.”
Jackson’s grin turned wicked. “Cleared her schedule, you say?”
“Mm-hmm.” Phin tried to sound innocent. “She took several weeks of vacation time. She’s coming back to Moon Creek Falls.”
For one bright, glorious second, Anon Everton Blackstone looked as if someone had opened a door beneath his polished shoes.
Just as quick, his expression smoothed. “Is she?”
Jackson laughed. “Oh, she is absolutely going to give you trouble.”
Anon straightened. “I am not concerned.”
Rhaz studied him. “You look delighted.”
“I do not,” Anon snapped.
Hank took a sip of coffee and watched him over the rim of the cup. “You kind of do.”
Anon closed the folder with careful precision. “I am pleased that Phin will have more family nearby while she plans her wedding.”
Phin lifted her brows. “That’s why?”
Anon fiddled with the papers before him. “Of course.”
Hana’s smile turned dangerously sweet. “And here I thought you liked a challenge.”
Anon’s gaze flicked to her. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Rhaz came to stand beside Phin, his presence warm and steady. He glanced at Anon, then at Phin. “He is pleased.”
“I am not,” Anon insisted.
“You are,” Rhaz said. “Your face changed.”
Anon looked at him, aghast. “My face did no such thing.”
Rhaz considered him with the seriousness of a man assessing battlefield conditions. “It became less bored.”
Jackson nearly choked on his coffee.
Anon looked pained. “This is what comes of teaching a dragon pri...” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Er, one such as you, social observation.”
Phin slipped her hand into Rhaz’s. She didn’t think Chief Morrison noticed Anon’s slip. “I think you’re doing very well,” she told Rhaz.
His fingers closed around hers. “With fire equipment or social observation?”
“Both.”
His brushed his thumb gently over her ring, and the noise of the station softened around them. Chief Morrison muttered something about politicians and headed for his office while Jackson continued to tease Anon.
Phin looked around the station and let herself take it in. Everything was working out.
Rhaz leaned closer, his voice low enough for only her to hear. “Are you well?”
Phin looked up at the prince who’d crossed worlds, fought monsters, faced down duty, chosen her, and now stood in a fire station learning maintenance logs. All because this strange little town mattered to her and therefore mattered to him.
“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I’m very well.”
He studied her, his dark eyes softening. “You are certain?”
She lifted their joined hands, kissed his knuckles, then whispered, “Well, let’s see.
I’m marrying a dragon who’s becoming my fire chief.
My sister is probably going to bully Richard into proposing by Labor Day.
Hana is marrying a werewolf in the fall, and a vampire dentist may run for mayor.
Oh, and we can’t forget that Auntie Roo is coming back to town to make his life difficult. ”
Rhaz’s mouth curved into a smile. “That is a great deal.”
“It is,” she said with a grin.
“Does it frighten you?”
Phin looked toward the open bay door. Moon Creek Falls spread beyond it, ordinary and strange at the same time, but also full of secrets and people she loved. She looked back at Rhaz. “Not anymore.”
His smile deepened, and he bent to kiss her.
Behind them, Anon said, “For the record, Phin, your Auntie Roo will not make my life difficult.”
Phin ignored him as Rhaz deepened the kiss.
Jackson laughed. “You’re doomed.”
“I am never doomed,” Anon snapped.
Hana snickered. “He’s doomed.”
“Completely doomed,” Chief Morrison said as he reentered the room. “She’s my campaign manager.”
Rhaz broke the kiss and looked over Phin’s head at Anon. “I believe you are truly doomed.”
Anon sighed. “I miss when none of you had opinions.”
Phin laughed, and this time the sound was easy, bright, and sure. Auntie Roo had a legal mind sharp enough to cut glass. Life, Phin decided, was about to get interesting.
Then again, in Moon Creek Falls, it always was.