Epilogue

Four months later…

Dorian inhaled the lungful of humid, warm air and didn't flinch. His fists didn't clench, and his stomach wasn't burning with the desire to destroy everything. He was in the glasshouse with the love of his life, the sun falling on his face through the leaves of a palm tree that almost reached the glass ceiling.

The door was closed.

Fig, lemon, and orange trees, bushes of hibiscus and other plants surrounded him, and he didn't feel trapped.

He felt at peace. And in love. He wrapped his arm around Patience's shoulders.

She wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned with her head against his shoulder as they walked down the aisle.

"Are you all right, love?" asked Patience. "Your palms aren't twitching to burn everything to the ground?"

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head .

"No," he said. "I have no need for that anymore. I have you."

She chuckled. "And you have someone who will very much need you in maybe three months."

He laid his hand on her growing stomach and a feeling like pure sunlight shot straight through him. A little foot or an elbow nudged against his palm and his face split in a grin. Patience gasped slightly and both of them laughed; he was swimming in the beauty of her blue eyes.

"It's the first time the baby kicked!" Patience exclaimed, putting her hand over her mouth. "Oh…what a wonderful, strange feeling!"

Dorian exhaled and kissed her lightly on her lips. "I quite agree."

They walked out of the glasshouse. The door gave in easily as there was no latch on it anymore. No one would ever have to fear being trapped inside again.

They walked into the garden she had transformed, just as she had allowed him to find the strength to transform himself into a man deserving the love of this beautiful woman. The woman he loved with every fiber of his being.

He chuckled as they walked down the white gravel path. Flowers bloomed around them, and the air smelled of roses, greenery, and nature. Bees buzzed about and butterflies flapped their colorful wings. Fruit trees as well as the young ash and chestnut and oak grew taller with every day. Dorian looked around and inhaled deeply, letting his body take in the beauty and relax.

He hadn't done his punishing morning routine for months now, and his body was recovering.

He had gained a little weight, the scabs on his hands had healed, and even though there were scars, his skin looked much healthier. He still rode Erebus with Titan trotting by their side, but only for pleasure. He would no longer exhaust himself or the animal. But he wanted to keep his physical strength and muscle tone, which he liked…

Especially given how much sexual prowess he needed to satisfy his and his wife's appetites.

He still did boxing, too, but he went out to London to box with Spencer, who needed a patient partner. Dorian enjoyed seeing his friend more regularly, especially now that they had even more in common.

"Come, let's sit by your roses," he suggested.

He led Patience towards the meadow in the very heart of the garden where her gorgeous roses were blooming, the color of blush against dark foliage.

"I love sitting here," he said. "This is my favorite place in the garden."

Patience rewarded him with one of her brightest smiles.

"Is it now, Duke?" she asked cheerfully.

He sat on the bench and placed her on his lap, one of his palms conveniently nestled under her plush, gorgeous arse.

She giggled. "Dorian…"

"No, there's no one here, darling," he whispered, his cock already waking up at the feel of her lush thighs touching him, at the feel of her round flesh under his palm. Her breasts were now right next to his mouth, and they were even bigger now that she was pregnant, and swelled so seductively above the neckline of the red gown she wore.

He leaned closer to the two lush orbs, opened his mouth, and licked one of them with his full tongue, then the other. She shuddered and he grinned.

Perhaps he didn't need to punish himself and his body anymore, didn't need to destroy and crash and thunder. But he needed her. He'd always need her.

And her breasts. And her arse. And her sex .

But, most of all, he'd always need her heart.

She was as bright as the sun, as colorful as this garden she'd created. As cheerful as spring.

And as resilient as a true queen.

"I love you, Patience," he murmured as he looked up into her face, searching her eyes. "I'm yours. Body and soul."

"And I'm yours," she whispered, her eyes suddenly serious. "And I love you," she said and kissed him.

God in heaven, how he loved it when she kissed him, when she took the initiative. He, who'd wanted control in every aspect of his life, found their lovemaking the most satisfying when she was the one deciding how, and when, and how intense. He loved sometimes just being a vessel for her pleasure. Seeing her fall apart—shake and shudder and mutter the naughtiest words from that angelic mouth—was one of his biggest pleasures these days.

He smiled as they kissed, and she leaned back, gently brushing her thumb over his smiling lips. "This sight is my favorite thing in the world," she said. "Your smile. Any particular reason you're smiling?"

"I was just thinking how far we've come," he said. "You came to me shy, obedient, so naive, so innocent. But now, you're so strong. A true duchess. A queen of your own kingdom. I'm so proud of you. Darkness doesn't scare you. You stopped running away from it and turned to face it."

"I was afraid of it, yes. I was afraid it would swallow me whole. But you were the darkness, and I fell in love with you. You showed me I could face it. You showed me by turning to it, it could became my strength."

He chuckled. "And you showed me I could turn to the light, too. I have been all about control. Controlling my rage. My beast. Exhausting myself. Punishing myself." He kissed her. "But I wanted to change for you. Because I fell in love with you, and I knew I didn't deserve you. Didn't deserve your love. Not just because of my rage but because of John. Because of what I did to him. And, strangely enough, the way to become the man you needed me to be wasn't to maintain control. It was to surrender."

She brushed her knuckles against his cheekbone, and he felt a shudder run through him. The wicked woman could make even such a gentle and innocent gesture sensual, calling forth his desire for her.

"I will be the proudest mother to your child, Dorian," she said softly, "because he or she will have the most amazing father."

He felt his heart swell with love, like a sea sponge filling with water, bigger and bigger, and bigger still. There was no limit to the love he had for his wife and would have for his child. "I don't know if I can be a good father," he said. "God knows, I never had a good example."

"That is exactly why you will be," she said, taking his face in both of her hands. "Because you're different from him in every single way."

His chest ached with some pain he didn't know, perhaps grief for the family he'd wished for but never had. Or for his own ruined childhood. "You're right, love," he said, placing soft kisses along her neckline. "I will make sure my son or daughter has everything. But most of all, that they have their mother. If they have you, they will have all they need."

"And you, darling," she whispered and kissed his lips. "Both of us. Darkness and light. You think I'm the soft one, but I'm sure the child will weave a rope around you!"

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, her and the life she was carrying inside. Part him, part her, a wonderful new person they would both love and cherish their entire lives .

"You're right, I would never do anything but try to make them happy. Just like you. I will never stop trying to make you happy."

"Oh, darling," she whispered. "You already have. All you need to do is just be yourself."

And as they kissed in the sunlight, next to her roses that were both strong and beautiful, he knew that she was right.

She was his center. His love. His breath. His spring.

His queen.

And all she needed to do to make him happy was just be herself.