by Keri Lake
“Imagine us finding each other, in the hells of our world, here in this dream. Right now.” I roll over top of him, gripping either side of his face to hold his attention. “Promise me you won’t wake up and leave me here alone.”
“I promise.” He lifts his head, pressing his lips to mine once more. “My love for you has no bounds. In this life, or any other.”
“And if this impossible dream ends with us? If there’s nothing beyond it?” Blinking fails to hold back the tears brimming in my eyes. “No children?”
“I don’t need children to have a happy end to this life.”
“I love you,” I say against his mouth, mentally pushing away the thoughts of such a finite word: end. “God help me, I’m madly in love with an Alpha.”
He rolls me to the side, trapping me in his arms. “There isn’t a god in this world that can save you now, Thalia. You belong to the most savage one of all.”
As his lips find my neck, I reach back, fingers curling around his nape. “And so these Alpha antibodies I’ve been injected with … what are their advantages?”
“Fast healing.” A kiss to my throat, and he drags his lips up to my jaw, the shadow of stubble on his face tickling my skin. “Faster reflexes.” He licks the shell of my ear and nicks my lobe with his teeth. “My inability to resist you whenever you walk into a room. Of course, that’s always been the case ...”
I smile at that, closing my eyes, lost to the pleasure of his kisses. “That sounds like a weakness in you.”
“You have no idea.” His rough palm skates down to my belly, and on instinct, I snap out of my musings to rest my hand against his before he reaches my scar. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not. I just feel … hollowed out.”
“Parts I love most are still inside of you. A thousand scars could never reach that deep.”
With a tearful smile, I release his hand, allowing him to run his palm over my scar and down between my thighs. At the first prod of his finger, I close my eyes again. But instead of slipping into another place, or sailing off on the placid sea, I stay right here, with Titus.
My anchor.
My mother used to tell me that a woman’s most important role in this world was to bear children, and for some, I believe that’s true. Happiness and completion comes in all forms, and I don’t doubt the joy of creating new life, particularly in a world so ravaged as ours. Of carrying on into the future with new chapters of a story, and generations that will write their parts of it.
For those of us who are stripped of that possibility, whose stories are cut short, either by cruelty, or by choice, our endings may be different, but they don’t have to be any less joyful and happy. They don’t have to be perfect, because sometimes the world doesn’t play that way.
Life on this side of the wall has taught me a number of lessons, but perhaps the most important one of all is to love and be loved. It’s the only role we’re charged to carry out in our time on earth. After all, it’s the heart that drives us to purpose, that gives courage in the face of fear, and that makes us who we are.
And the scars? They’re just a reminder of our strength.
Epilogue 1
Titus
Sitting beside the fire, I watch Atticus turn the spit over the flame, revealing a golden-brown crisp to the rabbit meat. The beaming pride written all over his face is enough to make me want to knock the smug prick upside the head.
“Ah, look at that, Brother. Perfect. Tell me that isn’t a perfect shade of cooked.”
“If it’s your dick you need stroked, go find your woman.”
Atticus chuckles, kicking back a sip of his liquor from a tin cup, and glances back to where Lilith stands talking to one of the women from their camp. There’s a new glint in his eyes. An appreciation that wasn’t there before. “Later, maybe.”
“You and Lilith. You’re …”
“Yeah. When the woman isn’t hating on me. Even when she is, though ... keeps shit interesting.” Breaking his gaze, he throws back another long swill, then wipes the trickling liquor with the back of his hand. “Her mother’s been giving me some rattle root crap that apparently reduces my swimmers.”
“Works?”
“No accidents, so far.” He jerks his chin toward something behind me. “How’s Thalia holding up these days?”
A glance over my shoulder shows Thalia chatting with Freya, as the older woman stirs a batch of herbal medicine she’s concocted--one Thalia hopes will help her sleep better at night. When her eyes catch on mine, they seem to light up, the sight of her making me hard in all the right places. Can’t even look at the woman without my breath getting caught up in my throat and my stomach all twisting up, like I’m about to face off with something wild and threatening. So damn beautiful, it hurts. “Better.”
For weeks after Remus kidnapped her, she woke with nightmares, the kind of soul-destroying screams that took me back to the time of Calico. To this day, there are things she won’t talk about, but I’ve never been one to push, either. She startles awake a few times a week, but it’s just a matter of holding her close, and she settles back to sleep. Suits me just fine, as I seem to sleep more soundly beside her, too.
Nightmares still play with my head, occasionally, waking me up in cold sweats. Sometimes, I’m back in that dark cell in Calico, and other times, I’m watching Cadmus hide away from the mutations, trapped in those tunnels like a mouse in a sealed-off maze. It’s not so much the death itself that bothers me, but the what if. What if the nightshade didn’t work? What if he’s still down there? Alive.
“Here.” Something hits my arm, tearing away those thoughts, and I turn to see Atticus offering the skewered meat. “Try it.”
Groaning, I swipe the stick from the Alpha’s hand, and bite down into tender meat, doing my best to school my reaction so the bastard won’t spend the whole evening gloating. “Best cockabob you’ve ever had in your mouth, admit it.”
I lean to the side to spit the meat out, growling as I toss the skewer onto the flame. Dirty prick. Would’ve been a decent meal, if he kept his mouth shut.
With a chuckle, Atticus bends forward, fishing it out of the blaze. “It was delicious, asshole. Admit it.”
“Needs lime.”
Frowning, Atticus props the meat into the dirt beside him. “What do you mean, lime? Where the hell am I going to find a lime out here?”
“No idea.” I shrug. “Just telling you what it needs.”
With a dismissive wave, Atticus hooks his attention on something behind me.
I twist around, catching the small arm sticking out from behind the tree, where Asher, the boy Thalia and I rescued from the convent, hides from us. Beside him, Yuma sits back on his haunches, a dead giveaway, considering the wolf never leaves the boy’s side.
I wave him over, and the kid reluctantly steps out from behind the tree. “C’mon. Come sit down.”
He stayed with Freya and Lilith for a while, until Thalia decided she wanted to adopt the boy, so we brought him back to the cabin with the two of us. Of any of the Alphas from Calico, I was probably the least likely to father a child, but the kid has somehow grown on me.
“Still not talking?” Atticus asks from behind, to which I shake my head.
Asher hasn’t spoken a word since the convent, which hasn’t bothered me much, since I’m not one for conversation myself, anyway. He accompanies me on hunts, and where Thalia offers the love and affection the kid seems to lack, I provide security and lessons in survival. The boy’s ability to walk amongst the Ragers means that I don’t have to hawk him too much when he wanders off exploring sometimes, either.
Taking a seat beside me, Asher nabs a nearby stick and pokes at the fire, while the three of us sit quiet and reflective, Atticus and I sipping our liquor.
“What’s a cockabob?” the boy asks, filling the silence between us with an unexpected sound that takes me a second to process as Asher’s voice.
I stare for a moment, wondering if the question d
id, in fact, come from him.
The irritating racket of Atticus’s laughter breaks my concentration, and stirs an urge to silence the other Alpha with a much deserved fist to the face. Thankfully, the asshole gets up and walks away, or the prospect might be too damn tempting.
“Nothing, kid. Forget he said it.” Shooting a quick glance back at Thalia to make sure she didn’t happen to be in earshot, I rub my hands together. “And, uh … do me a favor and don’t repeat that in front of Thalia, okay?”
“You mean Mom?”
The sound of the word jars my attention for a second. Mom. Keeping my smile mostly under wraps, so the kid doesn’t get all embarrassed, I glance toward Thalia again, certain she’d tear up if she heard him say it. “Yeah. Your mom.”
“‘Kay. I won’t say it.” He twists the burnt end of the stick over the stone pit, drawing black ash lines there. “Can I … Can I call you dad?” The boy doesn’t look at me when he asks, and good thing, too, because the stupid expression I can feel creeping over my face would probably have the kid running for the trees again.
I’ve faced off with some of the most dangerous creatures in this world, and didn’t so much as flinch at size, or ferocity, but nothing scares the shit out of me like children with their curious questions. I probably look like a mole rat catching its reflection for the first time. Confused and terrified, but kind of happy at the same time.
“Sure. You can call me dad. If that’s what you want.”
Asher nods, casually wiping the back of his hand across his nose. “It’s what I want.”
Elbows resting on my knees, I return a nod. “Okay, then.”
“Dad?”
Strange hearing him say that, gives a weird sort of feeling that has me scratching the back of my head. “Yeah.”
“Will I turn Rager someday?”
Fuck. Once again, I find myself searching for Thalia, who’d handle this question far better than I can. Still chatting with Freya, she smiles and waves, oblivious to the conversation.
I can’t lie to the boy. I won’t. I’ve been lied to most of my childhood, by doctors and scientists, and all it did was turn me into a pissed off adult. “Doc Levins says that’s a possibility. I guess you could, yeah.”
Every week, Thalia has been taking the boy to visit the doctor’s makeshift clinic at Freya’s camp, and each time, she’s told the same thing: there’s no guarantee that he won’t turn Rager, or end up like Remus and Agatha with psychopathic behavior. As a result, she tries to smother that possibility with affection toward the kid. Whether it’s worked, or the boy just isn’t likely to turn, at all, he seems to be doing okay. So far.
“I hope I don’t. I don’t want to die.” Asher’s voice carries tears and hits me like a punch to the chest.
I’m no stranger to those thoughts, as I had them for years, with all the shit they did to me in Calico, but hell if I’m equipped at easing his fears. I’ve had to learn to just accept and evolve with mine. “Look, kid … Asher … son. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I promise you, I won’t let anything, or anyone, hurt you. Got it?”
He sits quiet for a moment, and with the fire burning, I catch the reflection of tears in his eyes, before he shoots up and barrels straight into me. Knocked stupid for a moment, I hold my arms out, not sure what to do with them. Can’t remember if I’ve ever even hugged a child before. Takes a good few seconds before my head prods me to wrap my arms around the boy, and when I do, something strange stirs inside of me. Kind of warm and fuzzy. Pleasantly aggravating.
Kids have never really been part of the plan for me. This world is too hard and cold for something so innocent as a baby, so the fact that Thalia can’t bear my child never really bothered me. But I’ve got to admit, something about earning the kid’s trust feels pretty good. Hearing him call me dad was kind of nice, too, even if it felt a little weird.
I pat the kid’s back, taking in the small and fragile arms that cling tight around my neck.
Asher.
My son.
Son.
And just like that, the promise I made to the boy becomes a living, breathing thing that pounds inside my chest.
The simmering embers of the fire cast a soft glow about the room, as I lay beside Thalia, her small frame pressed tight against me.
“Do you ever plan to sleep in a bed again?” she asks, with a smile in her voice.
I draw her hair aside to kiss her nape. “A warm fire and you lying beside me? No reason to.”
Everyone took off, back to Freya’s camp, leaving the cabin quiet and still again. Asher’s sound asleep in Thalia’s old bedroom, last I checked, and Yuma lies snoozing by the door, where a crack along the bottom lets in just enough air to keep him from getting too warm with the fire.
“Still, it’d be nice to have something softer than a hard plank beneath me, and I’m not talking about your body.” She twists in my grasp, nuzzling her face in my chest. “I do love your stiff surfaces, though.”
Smiling at that, I grip her thigh, and the moment her hips grind the right spot, my whole body stirs to life. “Unless you intend to finish this, I suggest you stop now.” Face buried in her neck, I breathe in the sweet scent watering my mouth, and tongue a wet line from her throat to her jaw.
She has a no sex rule in the house with Asher, so finishing means grabbing the bearskin and heading out to the woods. The cool, early spring air doesn’t bother me, at all, but the likelihood of her leaving the warmth of the fire is slim.
“Let me get my shoes. I hate walking over the fallen sticks barefoot.”
Or not so slim.
The second she turns away, though, I yank her against me, seizing those soft, pouty lips. “In a minute,” I say against her mouth and roll her on top of me.
Hands planted against my chest, she balances herself, straddling my body, and breaks the kiss to sit up. Rounded, pert breasts peek through the thin fabric of her nightgown, taunting me. Always fucking taunting me.
Running my hands over her curves is all I can do to calm the intense need to drag her to the floor and take her right here by the fire. Waiting is the greatest torture, but it also makes for one hell of a finale, when all is said and done.
Lost in a sea of calm blue, I stare up at the woman, my woman, her beauty beyond anything I could’ve fantasized. The sight of her makes my whole damn chest hurt, like I can’t breathe, or something. Happens every time I look at her, and that sweet scent, like flowers after a heavy rain, the natural aroma of her skin, has me drooling like a starved dog. Possession burns in the pit of my gut, and I can rightly say I’d kill and destroy anything that ever tried to hurt her, or Asher, again.
“What are you thinking?” The soft tracing of her fingers over the ridges of my chest has my mind distracted from the question.
Eyes closed, I focus on the smooth glide of her maddening touch. When she falls forward letting her nipples brush over my chest, only a fine thread of resistance keeps me from taking those hard peaks into my mouth and sucking them until her soft caresses become the unforgiving scrape of nails digging into my skin.
“You’re ignoring me,” she whispers, and the moment her teeth find my earlobe, my palms find the firm cheeks of her ass. “Tell me.”
“I’m thinking your rule is about to be annihilated.”
“You have no self-control?” The playful tone of her voice has me smiling, as she grinds her sex against my stomach in the cunning way she knows makes me edgy and impatient. Teasing and provoking the animal inside of me that claws the underside of my skin. The same merciless brute that seems to crave only her. Only ever Thalia.
The wet glide of her flesh across my abdomen tenses muscles that beg to sink into her warmth. To get lost in her sorcery for a couple of hours. Squeezing her hips, I steer her lower, and the second her heat smothers the head of my dick through my pants, everything inside of me turns chaotic. Blood pumping double time. Appetite ramped up to starving. Restraint zeroing out to one tattered fiber of absolute w
illpower. Fucking hell, the way this woman commands my body.
“I’m controlling it the best I can.” The strain in my voice doesn’t hold a candle to the tension burning inside of me, while she stakes her claim with that wet, sticky arousal that has my tongue puckering for a taste.
Thalia still has a number of triggers that set off flashbacks to what she suffered, but time and trust have proven to be a great healer. I’ve learned how to touch her, what boundaries can be pushed, and the words that keep her demons in a chokehold.
She may never be as carefree as before. Might never dip her toes into those darker desires, the way she once did, but so long as she remains mine, I don’t care about all that.
Warm lips find my throat, and my muscles seize up, damn near cramping, as she drags her tongue over my skin. “Do you ever think about your friends?”
Frowning, I keep my focus on the movement of her hips, instead of the question. “Why do you ask?”
The grinding stops, and with the absence of her teasing gyrations, I open my eyes to find her staring down at me, the serious expression written across her face reigning in my urges. Stamping out the fire she’s stoked in me. “What if we go east? We can look for that community. With your Alpha brothers.”
Over the years, I’ve thought about them. What they’re doing. If they’re alive. Thriving. But I’ve since come to appreciate the life I’ve made with Thalia, and our little cabin in the woods. Here, her and Asher is everything I need. “You love this place.”
“I do.” She brushes her fingers down my face, her touch a confusing switch between my cravings and calm. “And I would stay here forever with you. But there’s a part of me that longs for adventure. There was a time I feared this world, but with you? And Asher? I want to see it all. I want to live it all.”
The idea of roaming the open land with her sends a different rush of excitement pumping through my veins. A shot of adrenaline that stirs from its long wintery slumber. And yet, at the same time, it has my stomach twisting with the perils we’d face along the way. The possibility of something happening to her. Anxiety that I never put much stock into before Thalia.
