Epilogue

ONE YEAR LATER

A s I trace my fingers over the intricate detailing on the oil painting, my eyes catch on the pale scarring on my hand. There will come a day when I can look at my scars without a knot forming in my throat, but I’m still a long way from healing emotionally. At least we’re safe for now, living in a new house, far away from the Exodus’s clutches, while Darian and Sinclair are the head of their new society .

“Are you going to throw that?” Darian’s deep timbre downstairs has a spark of joy bubbling up inside me, but instead of spinning around and beaming like he’s the sun in my universe, I bite back my smile and hum.

“Will you be mad if I do?”

“Why don’t you try me?”

My smile slips free, and my lip escapes the confines of my teeth. I turn on my heel and step up to the banister.

Looking as handsome as the day I first met him in a shirt and dress pants, Darian stares up at me from the bottom floor with so much admiration it takes my breath away.

His dark hair is interspersed with more gray strands than a year ago, and the smile lines around his eyes are more pronounced, yet he’s more attractive than he’s ever been.

Maybe because he smiles freely now.

Yes, he has his dark moments, especially in our war against the Exodus, but he’s also happier.

“Maybe I should,” I tease, walking my fingers along the wooden banister with a flirtatious smile, and then before he can reply with a witty remark, I turn back around and lift the large painting off its hooks. It’s a lot heavier than it looks, and by the time I’m precariously balancing it on the railing, Darian is biting back an amused smile.

“You’re a lot stronger than you look for such a short woman.”

I scoff, pretending to be offended. “How dare you call me short? I’ll have you know, I’m five foot two.

“Impressive,” he says.

“I’m only short to you because you’re so tall.” I sound petty, but Darian just chuckles and rubs his brow.

“Are you throwing the painting or not?”

I debate it for a moment. It would be a shame; it’s a pretty one, probably my favorite in this new house. “I like this one,” I say with a sigh.

Darian’s eyes twinkle beneath the chandelier’s soft glow.

“Why don’t we keep this one,” I muse.

As I go to place it down, it slips from my fingers and crashes to the floor by Darian’s feet, splintering on impact.

“Oh shit…” I press my hands over my mouth, staring wide-eyed at the mess, then at Darian, who slowly lifts his gaze. When he raises a dark brow, laughter bubbles up from my chest.

I can’t help it; the look on his face is too funny.

“Oops.” I roll my lips to prevent them from curling.

“Oops?”

“For once, I didn’t mean it.”

Darian inhales deeply. “Looks like I’ll have no choice but to punish you.”

“Oh, please,” I laugh, “like it’s any trouble.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh, the sound dark and husky. He shakes his head and studies me with a smirk so sinfully delicious that heat settles low in my core. “You’re right,” he says with a simple shrug. “It’s my pleasure to chase you down and spank your little pussy.”

He pretends to look around, but I know what’s coming even before he runs up the stairs, making me squeal with excitement. “Where are you going to hide, Mrs. Delacroix? There’s no library here.”

After I throw open the door to our bedroom, I dart inside, but before I can close it, he shoulders through and kicks it shut behind him.

I stop dead in my tracks, staring at the countless red roses covering every surface. And bat flowers—so many ugly little alien flowers amidst the red petals.

His warm chest lines up with my back, and he shifts my hair aside to place a tender kiss on my shoulder. “Have I ever told you that you’re the light of my life?”

“Darian,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

As I turn around, I gasp at the sight of Darian kneeling with a ring box in his hand. The most beautiful diamond ring I’ve ever seen sparkles up at me, and his eyes hold a vulnerable, boyish look.

“Mrs. Delacroix,” he says, “I never gave you the proposal you deserved. When we first met, you married me because you had no choice. I want to give you that choice.”

He swallows hard, looking up at me with such hope that my heart speeds up. “I love you. I love you with every heartbeat, every breath, and every smile you bring to my lips. There is no other woman like you, and I should’ve known the first time I saw you polishing glasses that you were going to bulldoze your way into my life and make me feel things I never thought possible. You fought for me when I didn’t deserve it and loved me in a dark place where no one had reached me.”

“Oh, Darian,” I whisper as I wipe my wet cheeks, but more tears fall.

“I don’t regret stealing your freedom, not when it brought you to me,” he says. “But I regret not giving you the wedding you deserve, the flowers, the dress, the celebration. You deserve each and every dream of yours to come true, and if you let me, I will give you them all, no matter how big or small. There are no limits to your happiness. I never offered you a choice to pick me when we met, but I’m begging you now. Pick me, Mrs. Delacroix. Choose me. Will you be my forever? My wife? My best friend and my lover?”

Chewing on my lip, I consider his words. “So if I decide to walk away, you’ll let me?”

His throat jumps on a thick swallow. “Yes.”

“You’re giving me a choice, Darian Delacroix?”

A muscle clenches in his cheek as fear creeps into his eyes, but he nods once. “Yes, baby, I want you to be happy. I’ve never let you have your freedom before, and I can’t live with myself if you’re here because you’re caged. So if you want to walk away, I won’t stop you.”

My eyes drop from his sincere gaze to the ring, and tears trail down my cheeks as I sift my fingers through his soft, dark hair. “I don’t feel caged, Darian. If anything, you set me free.”

When he continues kneeling with that hopeful look in his eyes, I drop to my knees, too, and cup his stubbly cheeks. “The answer is yes, Mr. Delacroix. I choose you.”

He gives me a boyish smile, his fingers trembling slightly as he removes my ring and replaces it with the new one. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a necklace. “I also have this. I’d like you to wear it, if that’s okay?”

I eye the heart pendant before rising to my feet and spinning around, moving my hair away from my shoulder. “It’s beautiful.”

“It was my mother’s,” he says, his breaths fanning my neck as he stands up and secures it. “She gave it to me that night.”

As his touch lingers on my skin, my heart thuds harder. I glance at him over my shoulder, and his eyes fall to my mouth. “I will always keep you safe. You know that, right?”

I finger the heart pendant and feel my chest ache with tenderness.

His mother once wore this necklace—her last gift to him. Now, he wants me to have it. “We keep each other safe, Darian.”

His fingers trail through the strands of my hair, and I lean back against his chest, looking out over the roses.

A thought occurs to me. “Were the bat flowers your idea?”

He snorts, which makes me smile. “You’re kidding, right? It was all Sinclair. You’re family now, he said. And family looks after each other.”

“Darian?”

He hums contentedly.

“We’re already married, so how can we do it again? I’m not divorcing you.”

“We can still have a celebration.”

Turning in his arms, I wrap my mine around his neck. “I like that idea.”

“Yeah?”

I kiss him. “Very much.”

“Good,” he says, sweeping my hair away from my brow and kissing the tip of my nose, lips, and cheek. “Are you ready for your punishment now?”

“I thought you had forgotten about that.”

A wolfish smile spreads across his face. He lifts me like I weigh nothing before he tosses me onto the bed and removes his shirt.

Giggling, I bounce on the mattress, surrounded by luxurious cushions and silk, watching my handsome, fearsome husband strip out of his clothes.

“Come here, wife,” he says, climbing on after me and circling his fingers around my ankle. “Let’s spank that pretty pussy.”

With a quick yank and a salacious grin, he pulls me down the bed to the soundtrack of my peals of laughter.

The End.

What’s next?

For more of Darian and Cecilia and the war against the Exodus, check out Nathaniel Sinclair’s upcoming book Unholy by Kinsley Kincaid.

A special thank you to Ms. Kincaid for letting our words crossover and entrusting me with her characters.