Epilogue
EVERLY
It’s late afternoon on Cherry Mountain, and the air is crisp with the promise of fall.
I walk through the familiar trees, stopping when I reach one of my motion sensor cameras, strapped to a narrow trunk.
I pull it down and replace the batteries, then remove the memory card and insert it into my rugged tablet.
I’ll do a proper review of the footage later.
For now, I quickly scan through, my heart fluttering with excitement when I see a mountain lion prowl past on the screen.
I can’t wait to watch this back.
Grinning to myself, I put a new memory card in the camera and strap it back on the tree, stowing the tablet in my backpack. Then I head for the trail and start running home.
I’ve been a fully fledged wildlife biologist for two years now.
It took a lot of work, including four years as a junior field biologist to gain experience, but now I’m employed by Crave County Wildlife, and my job is everything I ever hoped it would be.
I get to play a part in protecting this beautiful mountain, studying the place that I love so much.
The hours are long in spring and summer, but now that fall is approaching, work is slowing down for the year, and I’m spending more time at home writing reports instead of doing fieldwork.
As much as I love working outdoors, the indoor work suits me just as much—it means I get to spend more time with my husband and son.
I slow to a light jog as I get closer to home, passing a pile of chopped logs with an axe head still buried in the wood.
The sight makes me smile. It’s been a long road for Gunnar, but after two years of physio and a whole lot of time and patience, he was finally able to quit the guided hikes and start working as a lumberjack again.
There’s nothing I love more than watching him swing his axe, hearing the satisfying thud as the blade hits wood, and knowing he’s back to doing what he’s passionate about.
I hear voices as I approach the cabin—my husband’s deep growl, a sharp contrast to our son’s sweet, childish voice. As I emerge from the trees, I catch sight of them sitting by the creek, and my heart swells. Asher is sitting on Gunnar’s lap, pointing at something in the water.
“What’s that one?”
“Good eye,” Gunnar says. “That’s a rainbow trout. They have pink streaks on their sides.”
“Are there clownfish?” Asher asks eagerly. “Like Nemo?”
“Not here, buddy. They live in warm water, like the Indian Ocean.”
I smile as I watch them. Asher looks impossibly tiny on his dad’s lap, even though he’s tall for his age. His eyes are blue, like mine, but otherwise, he’s all Gunnar in appearance, with the same black hair and warm skin that tans fast in the sun.
As I approach, Asher looks around, his face breaking into an adorable grin.
“Mommy!”
He jumps up from Gunnar’s lap and runs toward me, leaping into my arms. I can’t believe how big he’s getting. He’s five now and just started kindergarten last month, which I still can’t wrap my head around. Heck, it feels like I was cradling him in the hospital only yesterday.
“Hey, sweetie.” I pick him up and kiss his head, looking over his shoulder at Gunnar.
My husband straightens up, towering like a giant as he steps toward us.
He’s gotten even more rugged with age, his lines and silver hairs only making him sexier.
Those black eyes latch onto me with familiar intensity, burning with a mixture of love and something darker. More possessive.
“Hey there, princess,” he says, his deep voice still sending a shiver through me after all this time. Then he presses a kiss on my head, ruffling our son’s hair.
“Hi.” I grin at him. “Did you two have a good afternoon together?”
“Yep!” Asher exclaims. “Daddy taught me about fish and birds and some other stuff. He said we can go to the aquarium this weekend.”
“That sounds fun. Maybe we can get pizza after, too.”
He nods, beaming with approval. “Yes, please.”
The three of us head inside the cabin, which has changed a lot since the first time I came here.
It’s not sparse anymore—heck, it’s the opposite, filled with cozy furniture and our son’s toys.
The walls are lined with family photos: birthdays, days out on the mountain, pictures from our wedding.
It feels like a real home now, warm and lived-in like a favorite sweater.
“Are you all packed for your sleepover?” I ask Asher as we head into the kitchen.
“Yep.”
“Pajamas? Toothbrush? Clothes for tomorrow?”
“Yep. Daddy helped me.”
Asher is always going to sleepovers with his cousins. Amelia and Hawk’s cabin is only a mile away, and our kids hang out all the time, either here or at their place. They’re more like siblings than cousins.
My sister met her lumberjack husband shortly after Gunnar and I got together.
In a crazy twist of fate, she found love with the same neighbor who saved Gunnar’s life when that tree almost killed him.
Hawk’s a good guy, and I owe him so much.
Without him, my husband probably wouldn’t be here.
Heck, I never would have met him in the first place, and meeting Gunnar is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Our little family is everything.
“Ready to go, princess?” Gunnar asks a little while later, once I’ve taken a quick shower and pulled on some fresh clothes.
“Yes.” I turn to Asher and open his little green backpack, double-checking he’s got everything. Then we head out the front door, and I take my husband’s hand, holding my son’s in the other as we walk the familiar, well-trodden path to Hawk and Amelia’s cabin.
It’s approaching dusk when Gunnar and I begin the walk home, and the forest is gradually turning to shadow.
His arm tightens around my waist, and we chat about our days.
I tell him about the mountain lion I saw on the camera trap.
He tells me about the bear tracks he found near Lover’s Lake.
But I can tell there’s something else on his mind.
“I’ve been thinking about Asher,” he says eventually. “He said something to me earlier about wishing he had a brother or sister. Think he’s jealous of Hawk and Amelia’s kids.”
My sister has a big brood—three kids with a fourth on the way.
“What do you think, princess?” Gunnar continues. “Is it time?”
We’ve talked a lot about having another baby. I didn’t want to rush into it after Asher was born, but now that he’s getting older, it feels right. He’d absolutely love to be a big brother, and growing our family would bring us all so much happiness.
“I think it’s time,” I say, smiling up at Gunnar. “Let’s have another baby.”
He makes a noise in his throat, pulling me tight against his side. “I was hoping you’d say that, beautiful.” Then he stops walking, holding me still. “How about we start trying right now?”
His low voice makes me shudder, and as I tilt my head to look at him, I’m hit by the fierce lust in his eyes. The feral glint that makes me throb with anticipation.
“I’d like that,” I say, trailing a hand down the buttons of his flannel shirt. “But only if you can catch me first.”
I spring away from him and start to run, zigzagging through the trees.
Gunnar’s heavy footsteps follow close behind.
It’s a game I like to play with my husband—a race that I always lose.
I’m a good runner, fast, but nothing can compete with Gunnar’s long legs.
He hunts me like a predator chasing its prey, and I don’t make it far. I never do.
I hear him behind me, his ragged breathing. Then his powerful arms snare me in his grip, and he pushes me to the ground with a growl.
“Think you can run from me, princess?” He’s already tugging at my pants, pulling them down before I can catch my breath. “Never. I’ll always catch you.”
This is my favorite game to lose.
I love what it does to Gunnar. It turns him feral, awakens something in him that fills me with need. He tears our clothes off with urgent hands and wraps his shirt around my wrists, tying them together.
“This is what you get for trying to run.”
I whimper as he kicks off his boxers, his thick cock springing free.
So big. Bulging with veins, dribbling with pre-cum.
He’s always ready to claim me. Heck, he still can’t keep his hands off me after all this time.
My body has changed since having Asher—my curves are plumper, my belly bigger.
But my husband seems to want me more than ever, taking me every chance he gets.
Not that I’m complaining.
Gunnar grabs my legs and bends my knees to my chest, folding me beneath him. My pussy is completely exposed, my hands bound, and all I can do is watch as my husband bears down, driving his cock into me.
“Oh, Gunnar…”
I gasp as he draws back before slamming into me again, stretching me open around his giant shaft.
“Who do you belong to, princess?”
“Y-you.”
The answer doesn’t save me. He starts to snap his hips in a brutal rhythm, pounding me wildly against the forest floor. I’m pinned in place, unable to move—to do anything but take everything he gives me. In the dying sunlight, his eyes burn into me, so intense that I squeeze mine shut.
“Look. At. Me.” He punctuates each word with a punishing thrust, and I open my eyes, quivering all over. “That’s it, princess. Keep those pretty eyes on me when I fuck you.”
I whimper in response, my toes curling at the friction inside me. His invading cock drags against every sensitive spot, my walls tugging at him, coating him in cream as our bodies slap together.
“You like that?” he growls as a choked moan escapes my throat. “You like being stuffed full of your husband’s cock?”
“Yes!”
“That’s my good girl.” He leans down to kiss me hard, his tongue flicking against mine, teeth clashing. He tastes like sex and animal lust, his beard scratching my chin, lips bruising mine. I can’t hold on much longer. I can feel my muscles clenching, an orgasm blooming between my thighs.
“I’m gonna come,” I sob against his lips.
“Damn right you’re gonna come, princess. We’re not leaving here until you come all over me.”
A scream catches in my throat, my skin scorching with heat. I’m so close.
“Be a good girl for me, Everly,” my husband says. “Show me you’re mine.”
I come undone with a shuddering cry, my vision blurring as I throb around Gunnar’s cock. His movements turn erratic, breath coming fast.
“Mine,” he groans. “Fuck, Everly, you’ll always be mine.”
Then he stills, letting out a hoarse cry. I feel his hot cum, thick strings of it spurting deep until he collapses on top of me. He holds me tight as we come back to ourselves, then reaches for my wrists, untying them.
“That was perfect. You did so good.”
He peppers my face with kisses, helping me pull on my clothes before he puts his own back on. Then he scoops me into his arms, holding me to his chest as he straightens up from the forest floor.
“I got you,” he murmurs. “You okay, beautiful?”
“Yes.” I nuzzle against him, still boneless from my orgasm. “That was amazing.”
He hums in agreement, carrying me bridal-style through the trees and back toward our cabin. “Let’s get you home.”
“Home sounds good.”
He presses a kiss on my head, squeezing me tight.
“I love you, Everly.”
“I love you too.”
I smile, listening to the thud of his heartbeat against my ear as my husband takes me back where we belong.
Home.