Epilogue

Three Months Later

Cedric

Thick snowflakes filled the evening air, catching the bright lights of the streetlamps. Despite a dark blue wool scarf tied tightly around my neck and the screaming orange beanie Tristan had produced from his wardrobe when I had left his apartment in a hurry, snowflakes found their way to my neck.

The morning had been slow and lazy. Tristan had been warm and beautiful, reluctant to leave the bed, and with an appetite for hot chocolate on a gloomy winter day. I had given him all that, and in return, he wouldn't let me leave. So we cuddled, and then we did much more than cuddle, and we cuddled some more. But then I needed to hurry to the museum as a representative of the royal family. Thanks to the fact that I practically lived in New York, certain artifacts found their way from the Royal History Museum of Verdumont to New York. Conveniently, I was asked to attend.

When it all ended, I insisted on being let out of the car a few blocks away from Hudson Burrow. "I don't mean to be driven around, and I do not want to be followed," I told my chauffeur. And if my security team could allow me to walk, they certainly didn't let me walk alone. At a distance, two agents followed me discreetly.

Life wasn't as liberating as I had hoped, but it was far better than what I had expected just a few months ago.

Instead of going straight to my apartment, I circled the neighborhood. I expected Tristan to be working tonight, so I wandered the streets. As I passed by Rashid's grocery store, I noticed that the lights were all out and the store shuttered. They had probably gone somewhere together with nobody left to mind the store.

When I reached the corner of Hudson Street and Christopher Street, I let myself into the tall, luxurious building my team had deemed appropriate. I had wanted an apartment deeper in the neighborhood, in a redbrick building like Tristan's, but they had dismissed it for security reasons. I couldn't win all my battles.

Someone moving attracted my attention to the far side of the lobby, their black curls slipping out of my view as the elevator doors closed. I muttered to myself as I pressed the button to call the next elevator. While the one that had just escaped ascended high to the top of the building, another one arrived, its doors sliding and letting me in.

Up on my floor, I reached my door, swiped my key, and walked in. The lights in the spacious living room were on, and the sound of feet lightly touching the hardwood floor made me smile. He wasn't working after all.

I took off the beanie and scarf, then shrugged off my coat before Tristan walked into the living room shyly from the study.

"Hey," I said. "Got a night off?"

"Yeah," Tristan said, crossing the room carefully as he approached me. He smiled at me hopefully, then pressed a hot kiss against my mouth. The chill of the night had cooled me down much more than I had realized.

"I wouldn't have wandered if I knew you were waiting," I said.

Tristan and I spent most of our free time together. My duties were very relaxed, especially since the elections passed favorably to my family. The moderate parties swept another victory in Verdumont, and the talk of firing my family from the job had subsided. I had plenty of time to focus on things that mattered to me. Not only did Mama Viv put me to good use whenever there were crates to be moved around and I was nearby, but I got to begin my research of queer motifs in Hellenic and Roman mythology.

Tristan's schedule was less forgiving, but he spent his free hours either with me or planning something to do with me. The sexy lip bite he was performing now was not the same as those he made when he wanted us to undress quickly or die. This was something closer to guilt. "So, the reason I'm not at work," he said carefully, "is because I couldn't take Biscuit with me."

"Biscuits?" I asked, frowning.

"No. Biscuit. Singular. It's loud at Neon Nights, and Biscuit's frightened," Tristan explained hurriedly. "And my place is overcrowded and loud, plus our landlord never agreed to…erm, letting Biscuit stay with us. I figured this would be a great place for him. It's not like anyone will complain to the Prince of Verdumont. And it's only until we figure something out…"

"Tristan?" I asked, trying to keep my voice cool and firm, but it bubbled with humor and happiness. I knew. I always knew. This was who Tristan was, and I wouldn't want him to change if it spared me a thousand headaches. "What is Biscuit?"

Right on cue, a whimper-bark of a puppy who was only discovering his voice reached us from the bedroom.

Tristan blushed, and I tried not to set a precedent by leaping with joy. I failed. I grabbed Tristan's hand and practically ran to the bedroom. "You didn't," I whispered in disbelief as I carefully opened the door. A mixed-breed golden cocker retriever stumbled around our bed.

If any frost had remained in me after the chilly stroll outside, it was gone now. Warmth spilled through me as if my heart couldn't contain all its blood and all these feelings. They overwhelmed me. I hadn't had a dog since I was a little boy, and even then, the dogs had been selected and cared for by other people.

"Are you going to kill me?" Tristan asked.

"What?" I heard myself ask, my gaze on the light brown, furry thing making itself comfortable on my pillow. Biscuit barked, then grew alert as if he hadn't been the one barking, cocked his little head, then made circles around my pillow.

I saw myself moving carefully toward the bed, Tristan trailing after me and kneeling on the edge of the mattress. I lowered myself carefully and extended my hand far to Biscuit to sniff. His big, black eyes were smart, his fur clean because Tristan had, no doubt, bathed the puppy.

"You impossible thing," I whispered, not sure who I was talking to. My love. I was speaking to the love of my life. "You incredible thing."

The puppy sniffed me carefully, then immediately decided we were friends and abandoned his work on my pillow in favor of getting to know me.

Tristan joined me on the bed. "So, you're not mad?"

Biscuit sniffed my face and licked my cheek, his excitement so typical for a puppy without a care in the world. He quickly became too happy to hold still, welcoming ear scratching and belly tickling. "Mad?" I asked, my throat closing as I felt the oncoming happy tears. "Are you crazy? I'm happier than I can tell you."

Tristan's face split with a brilliant grin. "You're gonna help Biscuit?"

"Oh, my love, I'm going to keep Biscuit. For us." I teased the puppy thoroughly, then let him get away and catch a break from my fingers. When I looked at Tristan again, his eyes glimmered. "He's ours, Tris."

My love bit his lip and leaned in. As he released his lip, his mouth pressed against mine, and we kissed deeply and passionately. An inexhaustible pool of love existed in me. However much I dived through it, exploring its depths, I always knew I was far, far too close to the surface, and there was no end to it, no matter how deep I went.

"I love you," Tristan said.

"And I love you," I replied.

As we kissed, Biscuit decided he wanted more scratches. He tucked himself between Tristan and me and got a belly rub of his life.

This was who my love was. He went through life picking up strays, fixing what was broken, and making the world a little better with every new day.

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The next novel in The Boys of Hudson Burrow is Romeo vs Romeo . Keep reading for an exclusive preview.

The End.