39. Epilogue

Epilogue

It had been centuries since either of them had set foot in their homeland. Though it was months away from the spring thaw, Remmus' hand never let go of hers as they ventured closer to the river where they'd first met.

Snow was a foot deep in places along the well-traveled hiking path, but the immortals had no trouble navigating it. While her wolf wanted to sample the frigid fluff on four paws, Ava enjoyed this experience as she'd originally been: human.

The small village where she'd grown up was long since dust. No one had wanted to settle it again after the massacre. Ava had never been happier to see nature reclaim a space—ground soaked in that much blood was better off empty.

Minutes ago, Remmus had shown her where he'd buried her parents. She had broken down when she realized he'd gone back. Her mate had checked the ruins for clues about her several times in the years after their separation.

In the weeks following their mating, Remmus had discovered the sketches of his parents—and his younger self—that she'd drawn to keep her memory fresh. The look of horror on his face was permanently seared into her memory.

They had burned the drawings together, following one of his therapy sessions with Luna, and it had been oddly cathartic for them both.

The crisp wind licked against her exposed skin, and she hiked up her collar to protect her neck. "Remind me why we came back today, of all days?"

Remmus chuckled. "Well before the spring melt, Blondie. Wouldn't want you falling into the water. I'd have to play hero again."

"But you're so good at it."

In truth, the flurry of activity on clan lands had made Ava slightly anxious. Healers were running from house to house, assisting with all the Raeth births, and although exciting, the commotion had been enough to frazzle the best of them.

Nina had been one of the first women who'd safely delivered. Her twins, Evangelyne and Zakkai, had been born healthy and screaming. Remmus had confessed he'd never seen his sovereigns happier. By the time things had quieted down and most mothers were resting and recovering after birth, both Remmus and Ava had wanted to get off campus—if only for a few hours.

The roar of rushing water became louder and louder as they gradually neared the shoreline. Though ice clung to rocks and coated frozen plant life along the river's edge, the water itself was still flowing. It was a deep blue, and its familiarity was breathtaking.

Ava immediately grabbed Remmus' arm to inspect the artwork and compare. Hiking up his sleeve, she studied the differences between the blue-grey ink and the scene before them. She mockingly narrowed her eyes and pointed to a rock beside the frothy water.

"You missed that boulder."

"Artistic liberty."

"And that tree."

"I'm fairly sure trees don't live forever," he replied, unmoved. "New ones do occasionally appear."

"And the berry patch?"

He smirked. "My my, Blondie, you're quite certain I've done our spot a great injustice."

"I only ask that it's an accurate portrayal."

Those seafoam green eyes rolled before he tugged her against him and claimed her lips. Despite the chill, a fire lit within her. Desire rushed through their mating bond as he cupped his hand around the back of her neck. His possessiveness made her whine with need.

With Remmus, she felt wholly seen and understood. He knew every part of her bloody history because he'd lived it alongside her. The same trauma that'd cleaved them apart had brought them back together.

As she curled into him, fully sated and gloriously happy, a trickle of energy crawled up her spine. A strawberry, perfectly red, appeared in front of her face.

"Something sweet for my something sweet," Remmus purred.

"How are these not frozen?"

"Your mate is an exceptionally skilled teleporter," came his entirely humble response. "Beamed them here directly from Riaz' kitchen island."

One eyebrow slowly rose. "I'm fairly certain accepting stolen property is a felony."

"Have faith, Blondie. My criminal activity shall never be discovered."

"Right." She gave him a look. "The only Raeth in the den who can teleport things, and strawberries mysteriously vanishing off his kitchen island. You're right, that's not suspicious at all."

He ignored her and gently bumped the strawberry against her mouth. "Beep beep. Open up."

Ava gave in as he gently pushed the berry between her lips. The flavor of the plump strawberry burst in her mouth, and she savored the sweetness.

"I figured pilfering a few berries for you would head off a quest to find them somewhere upstream. I've heard it's a dangerous pastime."

"You might be right."

She rested her head against his chest and inhaled the familiar scent of spearmint. He'd held her just like that all those centuries ago, when he'd pulled her from the same river that flowed peacefully in front of them now.

He saved her that day—and every day thereafter.