Epilogue
The room was quiet when Elyse woke. The only sound was her friends’ gentle breathing as they slept.
Judging by the way the sun came through the windows, it was at least midday.
The bright light didn’t seem to bother anyone though.
They were so dog tired, they likely wouldn’t have noticed a parade marching through.
It had been a long night. After Lady Death disappeared with the Blade of Hanael, they’d set to work on the wounded. There had been hundreds to attend to—soldiers and civilians alike. Nina, Corin, and Elyse, along with a score of trained healers, had passed out tonics and set broken bones all night.
Elyse had been grateful for the distraction. Every burn or cut she healed felt like a win. If she collected enough wins, maybe the aching in her heart would subside.
Manny seemed to feel the same way. He’d limped around the arena, helping to locate anyone injured, working to reunite families who had been separated.
Elyse didn’t think he’d stood still for more than three seconds all night.
It had taken Maelor ordering him to leave twice before Manny actually obeyed.
They’d all left together, and though it hadn’t been discussed, everyone wound up in Elyse and Killian’s room at the inn. Elyse didn’t mind at all. She couldn’t imagine Manny going back to his room alone, sleeping in a bed that still smelled of Sera.
Corin had given him a sleeping potion, and he’d quickly passed out on top of the covers of Killian and Elyse’s bed.
Corin and Nina had made themselves a little pallet of blankets on the floor, where they were still snuggled up together.
Elyse and Killian had taken the armchair by the window.
She’d been sitting on top of Killian’s lap with her head on his chest when she’d fallen asleep.
Now, she leaned against the wings of the chair with Killian nowhere to be found.
Elyse guessed he was meeting with Maelor and a few Guard members, as they had planned for a debriefing session. She didn’t envy Killian for losing out on sleep, nor for having to discuss the “collateral damages” of the battle, as one of the officers had put it the day before.
They’d lost forty-six souls in the attack. Thirty-one civilians, fourteen guards, and one extremely brave, exceptionally kind shifter.
Forty-seven if you counted Sera.
Elyse felt her heart clench as she thought of both Zubir and Sera. She couldn’t face that emotional weight right now. Not without Killian. And not until she felt physically better—after sustenance, a shower, and a full night’s sleep.
Food first, her stomach demanded with a growl.
Elyse stood, her hips cracking with the movement. She hadn’t taken her boots off when they arrived back at the room, and she tiptoed across the floor to keep from disturbing Manny, Corin, or Nina. She avoided the mirror—too terrified by what she would see there—and slipped into the hallway.
She only made it a few paces down the hall when another door opened.
Several guards spilled out, their uniforms wrinkled and their eyes rimmed with purple.
Killian was among them, his jaw shadowed in several days’ worth of stubble.
He was deep in conversation with Maelor.
The king’s clothes might have been pressed and clean, but he looked as exhausted as his soldiers.
Elyse approached cautiously, not wanting to interrupt yet aching to be at Killian’s side. He spotted her and gave her a smile, his gaze lingering on her for a long moment while Maelor spoke. She took that as enough of an invitation to join them.
When she reached Killian, he was locked in a handshake with Maelor.
“Get some rest,” Maelor ordered as he clapped Killian on the shoulder.
“You as well, Your Majesty,” Killian answered.
Maelor waved him off as his attention settled on Elyse. She felt the air in the hallway shift, and the king’s smile faltered but didn’t drop altogether. He flexed his hand like he might reach out and offer her a handshake, but instead, he tucked it into his pocket.
“Elyse,” he greeted her in a quiet voice.
“Your Majesty,” she answered with a bow of her head.
The king would not meet her eyes. He dipped his chin in salute to Killian before ducking back inside the room and shutting the door.
Maelor might have dropped the warrant for Elyse’s arrest, but he hadn’t forgiven her. And that was okay. Killian had forgiven her, and she was beginning to understand that she could love herself despite her past actions.
Killian slipped his hand into hers, the gesture easy and natural. He pulled her in close and planted his lips on hers. He didn’t pull away for several seconds, unfazed by the guards standing nearby. The kiss was more than a greeting; it was a prayer of gratitude.
Even when their lips parted, they remained close. Killian breathed in her hair, and she clung tightly to his tunic. In the wake of all they had lost, she never wanted to let go of him.
“Good morning,” he murmured against the top of her head.
“I think you mean ‘Good afternoon,’” Elyse corrected.
His answering laugh rumbled through her, as if they were one entity—one bonded soul. Then he stiffened. “Are the others awake?”
Elyse pulled back to look Killian in the eyes as she shook her head. She knew what he was thinking of. As long as Manny was in a dreamless sleep, he wasn’t in pain. But when he awoke, the agony would settle in.
“Are you hungry?” Elyse asked.
“Famished,” Killian answered, perking up a bit.
She started to pull him down the hallway, their hands still entwined, and together they descended the stairs.
They didn’t speak as they ambled through the inn’s main room, which was packed with limping soldiers and sullen-faced civilians.
Elyse kept her head low, eyes trained on the door leading outside, but she still heard the whispers.
“They’re the ones who saved us,” they all seemed to say.
It was sickening to hear, especially when too many had been lost. And when Sera and Zubir had truly been the ones to ensure their victory.
Elyse and Killian rushed out the door and into the street. It was crowded as well, but at least it was more anonymous. They paused, unsure what their next move would be.
“Cream puffs?” Elyse asked.
A half-smile spread across Killian’s lips. He gazed down at her, his golden eyes bright in the sunlight, like he had everything he needed already. “Sure,” he replied, voice soft. Nearly breathless.
Their pace was slower now, an unhurried stroll toward the bakery a few blocks down.
The heat barraged Elyse, but she didn’t mind.
It was a privilege to feel the sun’s kiss, harsh as it was.
She basked in the sensations of being alive—the ache in her arms, the growling of her stomach, the din of the busy street hitting her ears. It was all hers to enjoy and endure.
They were quiet for a bit, content to enjoy each other’s company without words. Until Killian asked the one question Elyse didn’t know how to answer.
“How does it feel to be free?”
Elyse bit the inside of her cheek, pondering. She had asked herself the same thing several times already, but had been too distracted to uncover her feelings. “It hasn’t sunken in,” she replied truthfully. “I feel a sliver of relief, but then it’s quickly doused. Like it can’t possibly be real.”
Killian nodded thoughtfully.
“What about you?” Elyse asked, suddenly excited as she remembered his meeting with Maelor. “How does it feel to be reinstated?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Killian answered plainly.
“What?” Elyse’s brows pinched together. “Did Maelor renege on his promise? If he did, I swear I’ll—”
“No,” Killian laughed. “No. I turned him down.”
Elyse stopped in her tracks. “What?” she asked again.
Killian was smirking, the cocky bastard. “I turned him down. It didn’t feel right, going back to the Guard.”
“Okay,” Elyse replied. She didn’t want to sound unsupportive, but she was so caught off guard, she didn’t know what to say. After a moment to think, she asked, “Do you want to take some time and figure out what your next move is?”
“No,” Killian said simply. “I know what I want to do next.”
“Well, tell me!” Elyse demanded.
Killian’s coy smirk was so adorably infuriating, Elyse didn’t know if she wanted to strangle him or kiss him. He closed the space between them, gaze burning into her eyes the whole time.
“I was thinking that you and I could work together,” he told her with a practiced sort of deliberation.
“You said you wanted to close the Emporium. We could travel together, helping to undo the damage that Lazarus caused. We could hunt those who would use magic for evil, like the men who held the shifters captive. We could go wherever we’re needed and fight for those who can’t fight for themselves. ”
Elyse was stunned. She stared, mouth agape, heart hammering against her ribs.
Killian cocked his head, his brows creasing slightly. “Do you not like the idea? I thought you’d—”
“No, I love it!” Elyse finally answered. “It’s perfect. I’m only upset that I didn’t think of it first.”
Killian chuckled as he slid his hand under her chin, tilting her face up to his. “We can tell people it was your idea.”
“Now it’s perfect,” she decided with a grin.
Killian pressed his lips to hers, and she savored the feeling. She stepped closer to him and slid her arms around his waist. This was home—her skin against his, their hearts beating together. Wherever they went, they would always be home, so long as they were together.
When the kiss ended, Killian kept his hand on her chin. He stroked his thumb along her jawline as his eyes softened. “You know what our first mission is?” he asked, voice gentle.
Elyse nodded. She knew exactly what needed to be done, what they would set to work on the moment they got back to the inn. The thought inspired her—their first time truly working together, on the same page from the start, without any ulterior motives.
She took Killian’s hand in her own and pulled him down the street. “Let’s go bring our girl back from Hell.”