Epilogue
One year later
“He’s twenty minutes out!” I announced when Octavia got inside the house. She nearly tripped over her feet as she shed her boots and coat.
“I can barely see straight,” she lamented, hurrying into the kitchen to wash up before returning to the living room.
Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion from a long day tending to our latest boarders.
I pushed aside my laptop, opening my arms for her to crawl into my embrace.
She did so without a care, snuggling her head into the crook of my neck as she released a sigh against my skin.
There was a calm unlike anything I’ve ever experienced whenever our bodies folded into one another like this.
I lived for the end of days when she came back to me.
“Everything’s sore,” she whispered as she hugged my waist. Her fingers slipped underneath my shirt, searching for the skin-to-skin contact neither of us could resist for long.
“Do you want me to get the bed ready for you?” I massaged between her shoulder blades, where most of her tension typically lived.
We had a whole nighttime routine. Octavia would run a bath for us to take together. During it, we’d recap the day…or do something that required a little more energy.
Afterward, I’d turn down the bed and set up our heated blanket. We took turns reading each other to sleep. I preferred fairytales; the lighter, the better. She was partial to articles from the Guild database. The drier and stuffier, the better.
“No, I want to be awake when he gets here,” she said around a yawn. “Knowing him, he’ll probably stay five minutes before booking the next flight out.”
I laughed. This would be the third time Daylan Burrow accepted our invitation to the ranch.
And the first time he actually made his flight.
After months of back-and-forth, he and Octavia had formed a bond.
She’d pulled him out of the shell he’d retreated into, and he’d helped her manage the nightmares that lingered after her possession.
I’d also grown an attachment to him. Not only because he’d helped the woman I loved feel protected—but that was a hearty bonus.
But because, like him, I’d become somewhat of a loose thread in the hunting world.
I didn’t belong to the Guild. I no longer had my team.
And yet I still couldn’t quite shake the weight of responsibility to put my knowledge to good use.
After releasing the need to fit into the hunting world as perfectly as every other Jones, I was ready to start anew. Build something sustainable for myself, like Octavia had done with Elmwood.
“How’s it looking?” My girlfriend lifted her head and reached for my laptop. I played with the ends of her locs while she scrolled through my document. Thanks to a cut I’d given her a week ago, her hair barely grazed her shoulders. She smelled like the fall air, crisp and new.
“Good,” I murmured as I kissed her cheek.
She laughed, pretending to want to pull away, even though there was no genuine force behind her tug. “The horses missed you today. Frog kept looking at the door, waiting. He gets an attitude with me every time it’s time for a bath. Think he prefers you because you baby him.”
Usually, I’d spend most of the workday with her, tending to whatever we had to do on the ranch. I’d gotten close with the horses. I got used to anticipating their wants and reading their body language. And I’ve fallen in love with them, unable to imagine my days without waking up and greeting them.
If I wasn’t by Octavia's side doing manual labor—something my muscles ruefully got accustomed to—I was busy doing marketing for the ranch. Wilson and I made big plans around the kitchen table.
In one year, we’d established what we hoped would become an annual Peach Festival. During Halloween, we hosted a Spirits Eve weekend. Income for the ranch didn’t just flow from the boarding horses, but also from Elmwood’s existence as an event space.
The land bloomed with life after its release from the demon’s energy. Every season changed in perfect rhythm; fall leaves colored vibrant reds and oranges. Spring wildflowers sprouting up in pastel clusters.
“How are you feeling about the pitch?” Octavia scrolled through my writing, scanning paragraphs she’d been helping me perfect for the past month.
“Good.”
She raised a brow and looked up at me. “Good?”
I shrugged and stretched before entwining my fingers and placing them behind my head.
Octavia snorted, pushing herself up onto her knees. “You’re so…”
“What?” I offered her a smile.
She wrinkled her nose, but instead of a complaint, I received a kiss on the nose. “Full of yourself.”
I pulled her in for a proper kiss. “Are you mad that I’m not nervous?”
“No, I’m mad I’m nervous for you.” She tugged on my shirt, a telltale sign she wanted me to climb into her lap.
Sometimes, Octavia needed more than anything to be held. Most times, she simply needed to hold me. Shielding me from unseen forces in case I couldn’t do it myself.
Being in a relationship with her was the first time I was able to relinquish control whenever I needed. The first time I felt like if I couldn’t do something, it wasn’t a character flaw but an opportunity to be closer to her.
“You realize I’m not nervous because you helped me.” I hugged her close, brushing my lips across her jawline and pausing at her mouth. Her breathing shuddered. “I’m nothing without your feedback. Without you.”
“Say that again, but slower?” she requested with her eyes closed.
I placed my lips by her ear, ready to whisper it before the click of Wilson’s door interrupted us. Octavia sighed when I gave her a quick kiss and swung off her.
“Hey,” Wilson sounded out of breath. He barely looked our way as he rolled past. “Rae, did you reheat the lasagna?”
“I did.” I smiled when Octavia sent me a wordless what’s his problem?
Her brother hurried around the living room, straightening things he’d been straightening all day.
“Along with peach cobbler,” I said. “And I made some fresh lemonade from the stash Esther brought in from Dale’s farm.”
“Good, good.” Wilson’s gaze scanned the room, on the hunt for anything out of place.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” Octavia asked.
His gaze snapped to us on the couch. “Excuse me?”
“That.” Octavia pointed to the gray button-down and jeans. All perfectly respectable in my opinion. I frowned, glancing at her for a second. She had a knowing glint in her eyes.
For weeks, she had an inkling that Wilson liked Daylan. But he wouldn’t admit it to her. And whenever I brought it up, he looked at me as if I were dense.
“What’s wrong with it?” He tugged at his collar, looking for the issue. “Too casual?”
“No, it’s…” Octavia tilted her head to the side, studying him.
I laughed under my breath and nudged her side gently.
She’d been doing this a lot more, acting like a younger sibling.
And from everything I knew about her childhood, she hadn’t always gotten the chance to be one.
To be silly and teasing. It was fun to watch, and on any other day, I wouldn’t have intervened.
But today we had a guest of honor. And I couldn’t have two stressed-out Daniel siblings on my hands.
“You look great, Wilson.” I nudged Octavia again, trying to get her to co-sign.
He frowned. “I wasn’t trying to look great. I just threw this on.”
“Seems like it,” Octavia agreed.
Wilson scoffed. “Are you serious?”
A knock at the door interrupted us. Wilson cursed under his breath. Octavia did the same under hers.
“I’ll get it,” I offered, trying to hold in a laugh of my own. “Let me talk to him alone first. Don’t want to overwhelm him.”
This would be the first bit of in-person human interaction Daylan had had in over a year.
I opened the door to greet a lanky, light brown-skinned man.
He had soft, amber-brown curls that brushed against his shoulders.
Daylan clutched a small gym bag in one hand, and in the other, he fidgeted with a silver chain-linked bracelet.
“It’s that stable, is it?” was his nervous greeting.
His gaze was trained on the old stable that housed the plank prison for our demon.
We didn’t want to mess with whatever luck we’d had in creating a stable trap, so we decided to tape off the stable and build a new one for the horses.
And during every event, we put someone on guard to make sure no one accidentally stumbled inside and went poking around.
“It is.” I smiled and held out my hand. Anyone with common sense could deduce he wasn’t a hugger. But I still felt like we should have had physical contact. We were friends at this point…or rather, I considered him a friend. I believed he simply tolerated me.
“Are there fresh wards?” He finally looked at me, brown eyes heavy with nerves. Daylan ignored my attempt at a handshake.
“All for you,” I promised. “I used that new one you taught me.”
Daylan sighed, but nodded. “Good…I mean, thank you. It’s…nice to see you?”
“Why is that a question?” I moved aside so he could cross the threshold.
“Because I’m still deciding.” He took a tentative look around the foyer, probably making the same notes I had when I first stepped into the house. “Here.”
I accepted the baggies he held out. Garlic. Rosemary. And something red and shaped like a star. “Funny.”
He raised a brow. “I’m not laughing.”
But I was.
“Can we come out now?” Octavia asked, but she was already in the doorway.
Daylan smiled at her. And when she offered him her hand, he took it for a shake.
“I can’t believe you’re here. Thank you so much for coming.
I know it wasn’t easy,” Octavia said. She never squealed or jumped with excitement.
No, the love of my life continued to be mellow.
But I could tell how fast her heart was going by the quick pace of her words. The breathlessness in every sentence.
“It was fine.” Daylan followed us into the living room, eyes still darting around as if to note every object in case something was amiss later. “I need you all to…”