Chapter 119 Epilogue - Maya's POV
I stand near the tree line, watching our two children playing out between the trees. It’s been seven years since the last battle and peace has made this possible.
The woods hum with life again and aren’t a scary place anymore, like they used to be.
Our daughter growls at her brother playfully as they run around in circles. The sun was just setting, but I didn’t have the heart to bring them in for the evening. Not when it’s so peaceful and quiet.
Damian sneaks up behind me, wrapping his arm low around my waist. “Are you coming inside?” He asks, his lips against the shell of my ear. “The sooner they go to bed, the sooner we can have some time together.”
“You mean the sooner you try for baby number three, you wild animal,” I say playful as I try to bat him away. “Two is more than enough.”
“What is your point? It’s fun and I love having that with you,” he says, growling into my ear.
I look up at the sky as the stars appear. “Look up.”
He stops nibbling and looks at the sky. “What baby?”
“Remember when we sat out under the stars all those years ago?”
He nods. “Yes, around the time of the last fight. Why are you thinking about that?”
“Do you ever wonder what happened to Lance? He was never found.”
Damian sighs. “It’s been seven years, love. He’s not coming back and we have to accept he either found a home elsewhere or he passed away during the fight.”
A single tear rolls down my cheek. I didn’t even know him well, but still, I care about our pack and all its members. I sigh as I turn my head to the left, his lips catching my cheek.
“We have peace,” I whisper.
“Yes. The curse is gone and we are happy. Everyone has stopped trying to kill us and it’s beautiful. We have our whole lives ahead of us.”
Our daughter giggles. “Mom, he’s being mean again.”
I look, only to catch our son with partially shifted claws. “What have I told you about trying to scratch your sister? Those claws are for training, not hurting.”
“Sorry, mom,” he says, his lip jutting out in a pout.
I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. “Go play. The fireflies will be out soon.”
“Are we letting them stay up past their bedtime to catch fireflies again?”
A mischievous smile appears on his face and I just laugh.
“Yes, we are.” I turn in his arms, now facing him. “Why shouldn’t we?”
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t. We just let them get away with so much.”
I burst out laughing, knowing good and well that he instigates most of the trouble. Our daughter has him wrapped around her little finger and our son wasn’t far off.
The air grows quiet, but not in the eerie quiet of waiting for far or the tense silence of a pack licking its wounds. We had healed since this.
Our daughter runs ahead, her laugh spilling into the evening air. “Papa! I saw it first.”
“Did not,” our son yells back, still chasing after her.
“Did too!” She argues.
Damian chuckles as I turn to look at them. He holds my hand as we walk through the trees behind them. “They’re at it again.”
The kids race toward the clearing just a little past one of the streams. It’s where their father and I love to come when we play out in the woods. It’s a quiet patch of grass where they love to come play as well.
Lyra and Kai run around like wild animals, chasing after one another. For twins, they are mostly compatible and get along, but it’s being born under a blood moon that worries me.
That night was rough. The pack gathered outside our home, hoping I didn’t give birth because they feared what it might mean. I screamed through labor as the bond between us pulled tight. And honestly, I thought I might die at one point.
Lyra has her father’s dark eyes. Kai has my laugh. But both of them carry something that we don’t entirely understand yet.
Wolf and something more.
“Careful,” I call out. “Stay where I can see you.”
They obey, but only barely. I see their little silhouettes slow down, but not stop. They always push forward like the world’s begging to be discovered.
Damian’s squeezing my hand.
“They’ll shift soon,” he whispers. “They’re already partially.”
I nod, letting the idea of them becoming wolves settle.
“They’re more than ready.”
“You are too, you know?”
I glance up at him, my brows knitting together. “You’re still annoying when you read my thoughts like that.”
“Not reading, just knowing.”
We reach the edge of the clearing, where a fallen log has become our bench over the years. We sit, shoulder to shoulder, like we’ve done thousands of times at this point.
“Do you think they’ll be like you?” I ask, watching Lyra put a flower behind Kai’s ear while he scowls at her, but lets her.
“Stubborn?”
I laugh, elbowing him playfully in the side. “No, the other part about twin alphas.”
“No,” he says firmly. “The curse is gone and the get to start anew. They can be whatever they want and we’ll love them regardless.”
We lapse into a comfortable silence, the kind that comes when you no longer have to fill the air with words to feel close to each other.
Life is full. Not perfect. But very real.
“Mama!” Lyra calls out, dragging her brother by the arm. “The fireflies are here.”
I nod as they start catching them and then look at Damian. He’s just smiling at me.
“I’m so glad you came back,” he whispers.
My eyes fill with tears. “I told you I couldn’t leave you.”
A few fireflies float near us now, blinking lazily in the soft dusk. One lands on Damian’s knee, then takes off again, as if it knew we weren’t a threat.
“It’s so peaceful.”
“We earned this,” he replies, keeping his voice low.
I hear Lyra shouting, “I caught three.”
Kai complains that she isn’t supposed to keep count. They both run up to us, right as Damian leans in.
“Maybe we should take them inside,” he says, waggling his brows.
Kai groans. “Can we stay out a little longer?”
“Ten more minutes,” I say before they run off again.
The fireflies are everywhere now, painting the small clearing with their golden glow. The kids run after them, their laughter echoing around us.
I lean back into Damian, watching them. My heart is so full I think it might burst.
Then he reaches up, tilting my chin to where he can kiss me. It’s the perfect moment under the starry sky and fading sun with our two children completely happy and roaming free.
This is our home. Our hope. And our forever.