Epilogue - Ado

The street lights blur as Keira and I stumble out of the cab, laughing and leaning into each other for support.

We were out far later than we’d planned. The night air is cool against my skin, but the warmth of the alcohol buzzing in my veins keeps me comfortable. The distant hum of cars on the freeway that runs north along the outside of town fades into the background as I focus on her, her arm around my waist and her head resting on my shoulder.

“Careful now,” I tease as she nearly trips on the curb. I steady her, my hands firm on her waist.

She looks up at me. Her blue eyes are bright with mischief and life. They seem to sparkle in the yellow light.

“I’m fine,” she giggles, though she’s clearly more than tipsy. “It’s you I’m worried about. Can you even make it up the stairs?”

I smirk. “I’ll manage. But I might need some motivation.”

Keira rolls her eyes playfully, then stands on her toes to press a kiss to my jaw. It’s soft, a little sloppy, but it makes my heart race anyway.

“How’s that for motivation?” she whispers.

“Pretty damn effective,” I murmur, grinning as I scoop her up into my arms without warning.

She lets out a squeal of surprise, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Ado! Put me down! You’ll drop me!”

“Never,” I say, carrying her toward the entrance of our tiny, cozy apartment building.

I kick open the door with my foot and navigate us into the lobby, her laughter echoing through the space.

The elevator ride is a blur of stolen kisses and whispered jokes. My head already aches—the hangover tomorrow will be tremendous—but I’m buzzing with too much joy and contentment to care. Before long, we’re at our door. I manage to fish out the keys from my pocket without putting her down. Keira cheers at that, kissing my cheek with a cartoonish flourish.

When we finally make it inside, I set her down gently on the floor, her feet coming down on the hardwood with a soft thud. The familiar scent of our place surrounds us—clean linen, a hint of the flowers Keira insisted on keeping by the windowsill, and just a trace of her perfume lingering in the air.

It must be two or three in the morning. When the pack asked us if we wanted to come out, we both initially said no—introverts that we are—but then decided we’d have fun once we actually got there. No surprise, we did.

“Hungry?” I ask, kicking off my shoes and heading toward the kitchen. I know her well enough now to know that Keira is always hungry at the end of a long night. “I can make us something.”

Keira flops onto the couch, stretching out like a cat. “Only if you’re cooking breakfast food. I’m in the mood for waffles.”

“Waffles?” I repeat. “I think I can manage that.”

I start pulling out the ingredients from the fridge, enjoying the routine of it. There’s something so simple, so grounding, about making food for her after a night like this. It reminds me of how far we’ve come. How different things are now compared to just a few months ago.

As I whisk the batter, I glance over at Keira. She’s lying on her back, one arm draped lazily over her eyes, but there’s a soft smile on her lips. Her guard is down. Seeing her like this fills me with a warmth that no amount of whiskey could ever replicate.

It’s been three months since we took down the auction ring, since we ended the nightmare that haunted so many lives. Three months of living in this new safety and security we’ve created for ourselves, where the darkness no longer lurks around every corner. It’s not perfect, but it’s ours.

And Keira… she’s happy. Truly happy. I can see it in the way she laughs more easily now and how she wakes up next to me with that soft, contented sigh every morning.

I have learned that I love nothing more than to dote on her. The guys make fun of me for it, but I can tell they’re happy for me.

“Hey,” I call over my shoulder as I pour the batter onto the waffle iron. “You still awake over there?”

She peeks out from under her arm, smiling lazily. “Barely. But I’m staying up for waffles. No way I’m missing those.”

“I’ll have them ready in five. Think you can make it?”

“I’ll try,” she teases, then stretches again, rolling onto her side to watch me. She hugs a pillow to her stomach. “You know… I love our apartment.”

I pause for a moment, meeting her gaze. There’s a seriousness in her voice, a gravity to the words that tugs at something deep inside me.

“I love our apartment,” I agree, turning back to the waffles. “I think we’ve got the best apartment on the planet.”

She’s quiet. Then I hear her get up from the couch and pad over to me. Her arms wrap around my waist from behind, and she rests her cheek against my back.

“I love you,” she says.

I close my eyes, letting the warmth of her confession sink in. It’s not the first time she’s said it—she says it all the time—but every time feels like the first. Every time, it hits me like a wave, washing over me with a force I’m still not used to.

“I love you too,” I say, turning in her arms to face her. I cup her cheek, brushing my thumb over her skin. “More than anything.”

She smiles up at me, and the world feels perfect. Just the two of us, standing here in our tiny kitchen, wrapped up in this strange, beautiful life we’re just getting started building.

The waffle iron beeps, breaking the scene.

I laugh and turn back to the counter, carefully lifting the golden waffle onto a plate. Keira snatches a quarter, blowing on it and then popping it into her mouth before I can even set the plate down.

“Hey!” I protest, but she just grins at me, already reaching for another piece.

“Perfect as always,” she says through a mouthful of waffles.

I shake my head. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” she teases. She leans up to kiss my cheek. “But you love me anyway.”

“Yeah,” I say, pulling her close again. “I do.”

That same night, we make love like it’s the first time all over again.

We’ve already decided that if kids ever do happen, it won’t be for some time—finding each other again felt like a new lease on life for both of us, and we want to make the most of that before complicating our quiet, two-party peace. So, when we lie down together in the bed we chose, Keira spread out under me and moaning; I kiss her neck with the promise that there’s no force on earth that could keep her from being all the family I need. No matter what happens.

She guides me inside her with one hand, holding my cheek with the other. I feel her bite my lip hard as she groans with pleasure, overwhelmed.

“Ado,” she gasps. Her back arches high. “Ado, yes, yes…”

I brace her hips with my hands and watch her come apart to pieces. I mark her neck, suck bruises into her chest—I touch her until she’s shaking.

In the slim, toned curves of her body, there are all the scars and insecurities of a life lived. Every day, a small part of me regrets that she lived so much of that life without me.

And perhaps the regret isn’t such a bad thing, I think, as I watch her catching her breath on the bed beside me, still trembling, shining with sweat as she comes down from her orgasm. Perhaps it’s pretty to think that if things had only been a little different, we’d have stayed in proximity to each other all those years, orbiting one another like planets, and perhaps we’d have mated earlier; I could have had her so much longer, an extra piece of our lives.

In the chaos in which we live, I don’t know many things to be true. But I know I was always going to love her. In any life, I’d have wanted her like this. And I think we were always waiting to find one another again, me in Minnesota, her in New York, so many miles and years between us but some red string tying our lives together and winding us back in toward each other all that time.

I wish I had known to tell her, back then, when we were separated, that I’d meet her in the future. But now, I think she knows it was always true.

As I stare at her across the pillows, something tightens in my chest. A fierce protectiveness surges through me. She’s been through so much, more than anyone should ever have to endure. I would lay down my life to keep her safe, to make sure no harm ever touches her again. I swear it to myself, a silent vow as I reach out to brush a strand of hair from her face.

But before I can pull my hand back, her eyes flutter open, and she looks at me with that soft, knowing gaze she has. She catches my hand and brings it to her lips, pressing a kiss to my palm.

"You don’t have to protect me from everything, you know," she whispers, her voice heavy with sleep but steady. "It’s not just you looking out for me anymore. We’re in this together. Neither of us will let anything bad happen to the other. That’s how this works."

I lean in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You’re right," I murmur against her skin.

She smiles, that sleepy, satisfied smile that tugs at something deep inside me, and shifts closer, resting her head against my chest. “I always am.”

I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, and the world feels quiet, settled.

Keira lets out a contented sigh, her body relaxing completely against mine, and I feel her slipping into sleep.

But before she does, she whispers one last thing, so soft I almost miss it. “I’ve found another job to work for the pack.”

Sleepily, I raise an eyebrow. “Anything interesting?”

She laughs against my throat. “Just you wait.”

*****

THE END

Hi lovely! Thanks so much for reading Ado and Keira’s story. I hope you enjoyed it. Would you like to read Zane and Maisie’s story too? Then be sure to…

Order book 6 in the “Rosecreek Special Ops Wolves” Series:

Betrayed Plus-Size Mate

My mate broke my heart. Now I have to pretend to be his fiancée…and a pregnant one at that.

His rejection of my plus-size curves still stings…his harsh words still haunt me.

But I can finally rebuild my shattered self-esteem by helping with a special ops mission.

I just didn’t realize that it means I have to pose as an engaged couple…with the mate who broke me.

I’m a curvy paranormal nurse with some confidence issues.

The way he treated me didn’t help.

Now I have to put on elegant dresses to accompany him to fancy galas and private dinner parties.

But afterwards in the car, he just ignores me.

He pretends to kiss my neck and directs me on how to react.

We move into a high-end condo to keep up appearances.

At night, the press of his cold body against my innocent curves makes me lightheaded and ashamed.

But when my belly starts growing with his baby…will he claim me?

Or will he hurt me irrevocably?