Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Epilogue Two
Draven
Five Years Later
I stand obscured in the dark, waiting for her to walk past me. My heart thuds against my breastbone, excitement pumping through my system with each heavy beat. I hear her coming down the path, her steps sure. She's singing to herself, an old lullaby that's far too sweet for the thoughts in my mind.
If she's afraid to be out here alone this late at night, she doesn't show it. Then again, she rarely does. She's nothing if not brave.
I hold my breath as she draws closer, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She thinks I'm at home. She should know better by now. I'm never far from her. Following her through the dark is my favorite game. I know it's hers too.
Her delicate scent wafts around me. I squeeze my cock through my pants, my mouth watering at the smell. After all this time, she's still my favorite scent, my favorite flavor.
She draws nearer. Only a few feet separate us now. My lungs burn, starving for oxygen.
Closer.
I plant my feet, preparing to give chase as soon as she runs. And she will. She always does.
Closer.
I've stalked her through the woods, hunting her like prey so often I should be ashamed. I'm not. She never complains when I catch her. She fights like hell, only we both know the last thing she wants is to win. She wants me to subdue her. She wants to submit. By the time she does, she's soaked and pleading for me to fuck her.
I do. Over and over again.
She drifts closer, the notes of her song fading to silence. She knows I'm here.
Ah, Beauty. You can run, but you can't hide.
I listen intently, waiting for the tell-tale sounds of her flight.
Nothing comes.
My brows furrow, a frown overtaking my face. What is she up to this time? She's a wily, clever woman. Even after all this time, she manages to surprise me.
I lean forward, peering down the path, trying to spot her.
"Are you looking for me?"
"Jesus H. Christ!" I shout, jumping a foot into the air as her sweet voice sounds directly behind me. My feet tangle in a mess of roots and I stumble, landing on my ass.
Peals of wicked laughter erupt from Dahlia's lips. "Oh, Draven," she giggles. "I'm sorry. I couldn't resist."
I growl and grasp her around the waist, dragging her down into my arms. She's lucky I love that fucking sound. It's impossible to be angry with her when she's laughing. It's been five years and that sound still lights up my entire world. She still lights it up.
"Wicked woman," I mutter, crushing my lips to hers in a reverent, adoring kiss.
Her giggles fade to a soft moan, her tongue tangling with mine. We kiss until neither of us can breathe, and then reluctantly pull back.
"Fuck. I missed you."
"I don't see how." She smiles, running her fingers across my right horn. "You spent half the evening lurking outside the library."
"I was not lurking," I protest.
"Oh?" Her eyes light up, one brow arching. "Then what do you call hiding in the shadows all evening while I enjoy my book club, hmm?"
"Guarding my treasure."
Her expression softens, her hand drifting along my horn again. "You and Atticus are allowed to join us, you know. You don't have to lurk outside all night while Vivian, the girls, and I gossip about books."
I look at her in horror, shuddering at the mere thought. "I know what sorts of things you discuss," I growl. They read very dirty books. And talk about them in depth. I couldn't look at Vivian for a week straight the last time I heard one of those discussions. "We're fine outside."
I'm still not entirely comfortable venturing into town, not like Dahlia is, but I go for her. We have friends and a social life. It's…not terrible. With half the town married to humans, things are a lot different now than they used to be. The people who live here now accept us. Our world isn't perfect. But it's bigger than it was five years ago.
"Prude," Dahlia teases, laughing quietly.
"I'll show you a prude," I growl, reaching for the hem of her shirt.
She bats my hands away with a lilting laugh. "Hands off, Draven Asher Woodburn! I want to see my babies before you have your filthy way with me."
Well, fuck. How do I say no to that? Erik and Shelley—or WilyKit and WilyKat as I like to call them—are the lights of Dahlia's life. Hell, they are mine too. I fucking adore our kids and make no secret of it. They're full of mischief and as sweet as their mother.
We were prepared for one or both to inherit my changed DNA since others in town who have children have passed on the changes. Shelley, our eighteen-month-old, looks just like Dahlia, save for a single steel blue streak in her hair. Erik, on the other hand, inherited my beastly traits. He was born with a tiny tail and two little horns. I have no doubts that he'll rival me in size when he's older. At three, he's already taller than most kids his age.