Epilogue

Five years later…

I watch closely as my son and daughter both walk ahead of me on the bank of the San Joaquin River. It's a glorious spring day here on this portion of the planet Earth. The distant peaks of the snow-capped Sierra Nevada mountains bring me peace. The skies are bright blue with streaks of white clouds. Hawks drift overhead in the breeze.

Ivy and I recently moved our family down from our home in the mountains to a larger home on a hill next to the largest town in this location. This is to be near what Ivy calls "good schools and better shopping." Mainly I'm pleased to be closer to the airport for business travel, but still have the mountains I love the most nearby.

Hale and I both are still working on Earth because trade negotiations have worked amazingly well and lots more Korn have arrived with products and tech to sell, as well as Voltare. Humans have now traveled often to both of our worlds too and started selling items that Korn find of value, such as the wonderful chocolate only grown and made on Earth.

We've gone for a walk near the river, trying to walk off a large meal. It's for some sort of religious festival the humans call "Easter" but in reality it's performed to celebrate the change in seasons. The humans never cease to surprise me with how many holidays, ceremonies and festivals they make up, all over their world, in order to create opportunities to consume specific types of food and exchange gifts. But they are enjoyable.

Ivy strolls ahead with Sabine and Hale. Ivy is pregnant with our third child, not that she knows. I always know first because I can scent the new trail of pheromones.

There are four small children on this slow walk with us. Two of mine and two of Hale. All four of them are half human, half Korn. All of them have starter fangs and can ingest blood for special occasions. But they also look very much like their mothers. Both of Hale's offspring have light colored hair like his mate. Mine have golden hair like their mother, which makes me happy.

Joseph's wife, Ruth, walks with the group of children, laughing at their antics and helping them pick wildflowers.

"You were right," my friend comments.

"Right about what?"

"I didn't want the two of you together because I thought you'd hurt her, or leave her. You always knew that you wanted her as a mate. You were right. I was wrong."

I snort with surprise.

"I can admit when I'm wrong."

"No, you can't."

He grins.

"You were thinking of me in human terms. That was the fault in your logic. I am Korn. If I hadn't been in blood frenzy then you would have been right. I might've broken her heart, it would have been possible. But because I'd scented her and known, then I knew it was different. I physically need her and can't be separated from her."

He shakes his head. "Divorce isn't always the worst thing. I cringe, thinking of how terrible it would be if Ivy's birth mother and I were forced to remain together all these years. That would be a disaster. Ruth and I are a good match. But if I couldn't divorce Ivy's mother, I would never have met Ruth."

I raise a finger. "But, if you were Korn, Ivy's mother would have been a pleasure mate that you did not impregnate, because it would be impossible to impregnate the wrong female who was not your lifelong mate. You would only have lit up for Ruth because she was your true mate."

"That would mean I wouldn't have met my "mate" until I was forty-five years old. That's a long time to wait."

"Yes, sometimes you have to wait a long time to find your true mate. To the point where you think it won't happen, and then it does."

He grins and slaps me on the shoulder.

And we keep walking.