Epilogue
EPILOGUE
THIRTEEN YEARS LATER
Briar hauled her little brother, Bellamy, by the middle, his feet kicking behind her.
Fawn pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering what he’d done now.
Briar turned twelve tomorrow, and her nine-year-old little brother said he had promised a present.
Fawn had foolishly expected something sweet, but the angry look on Briar’s face proved otherwise.
Dean wrapped his arms around Fawn’s shoulders and chuckled. “What’s he done now?” Their two oldest trudged closer, and Fawn slapped a hand over her mouth. Briar’s light beige skin and golden-brown hair were speckled with something resembling mud and Bellamy had it coating his deep amber face.
“What is all over you two?” Dean asked, wrinkling his nose when they came closer. “Is that sh—poop?”
“His gift was a mini catapult he used to launch balls of horse crap at me,” Briar fumed.
“She smashed one in my face,” Bellamy growled back, sounding too much like his father. “It got in my mouth!”
Briar picked a piece of shit off of her sleeve and smashed it in his curly dark brown hair. “You deserved it.”
“Where did you get a catapult?” Fawn demanded.
Bellamy puffed out his chest. “I made it.”
Dean nodded, impressed and Fawn popped him in the stomach. “Do not encourage him.”
He rubbed his abs. “It’s impressive, but we do not use our projects to throw poop at people.” Pausing, he added, “Or anything.”
“Daddy!” their six-year-old daughter, Brooke, cried out.
Dean and Fawn turned around to see their youngest daughter, Brooke, bawling in Monroe’s arms. “She said she doesn’t feel well,” he said frantically. “She’s not warm, and I don’t know what to do.”
Lilith—these days disguised as a middle-aged woman—followed behind him. “I told him she’d be fine.”
“Hello, witch,” Fawn greeted her, earning a small smile in return.
Dean had convinced Lilith to spend more time with them instead of hiding in her cavern. It took a while, but eventually, she came out of hiding a few times a week for dinners and visits. She’d really taken to the children.
“Come here, little monster,” Dean cooed and scooped his daughter into his arms.
Lilith moved closer to Fawn and murmured, “I’m not sure why, but you should step back.” Fawn frowned but obeyed. Thank the gods she did.
Brooke laid her blond curly head on her father’s shoulder and cried. “My tummy hurts.” She punctuated her statement by vomiting down the front of Dean’s shirt.
Oh no. Dean would change as many diapers as you wanted, but he could not handle vomit.
Everyone froze, staring wide-eyed at the king.
It took a second for him to register what had happened, and he started dry heaving violently.
Fawn grabbed Brooke and handed her to Briar, who already had her arms outstretched.
She knew the drill when Dad came in contact with vomit.
Dean leaned over with his hands on his knees, gagging loud enough for the entire kingdom to hear. Monroe clamped his mouth shut to keep from laughing, and Lilith shrugged at Fawn.
Bellamy started dry heaving too, and Fawn cursed the gods for giving her two males with the weakest stomachs in the world.
Rushing to her husband’s side to remove his soiled shirt before he puked, she called over her shoulder, “Monroe, will you take Bellamy inside please? Briar, find Great Grandma and have her clean Brooke.”
Fawn’s grandparents had retired when they adopted Brooke to help with the kids. They had Monroe, Braddock, and Naomi to help, but Fawn suspected she just wanted to be near them. Her grandfather insisted on working in the stables with Naomi’s husband, Jeremiah.
Briar, Bellamy, Lilith, and Monroe hurried back to the palace with Brooke. Monroe pinched his nose. “What is all over you two?”
“Horse poop,” the prince and princess responded at the same time.
Monroe stepped a few steps away and scolded them the entire way back.
“Stand straight so I can get your shirt off,” Fawn ordered her husband. His skin turned a greenish-yellow color, and she prayed she could get the vomit off him before he lost his lunch.
She ran behind him, grabbed his collar, and ripped his shirt down the middle.
“Arms straight.” He stuck out his arms and puffed out his cheeks to hold his breath.
Fawn slid his shirt down his arms and threw it behind her.
No puke made it onto his skin, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re clear.”
Dean closed his eyes and spun around to put as much distance as possible between himself and the shirt, gagging every few steps. She chased after him and rubbed his back as they walked. “You’re okay. It’s gone.”
Her husband dragged in a deep breath and blew it out. “I fucking hate when they do that.”
“I know,” she soothed. “By the time we get back, Grandma will have given her anti-nausea medicine.”
“Thank you, darling.” Dean pressed a kiss to her head. “I hope I didn’t scare her.”
“She’s seen this enough times to know you’ll be fine. We’ll check on her after we get you a fresh shirt.”
He bent over and stole a kiss as they walked. “I love you.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder and murmured, “For eternity.