Epilogue — Part I
Epilogue — Part I
Eleven Years Later
The twins shriek with laughter as they splash under the waterfall, their golden-brown curls darkened and slicked to their skulls, little red eyes glowing with mischief. The cold mountain stream doesn’t faze them—they were born into snow and blood, after all. Wild things.
Griffin lounges shirtless on the grass like a predator at rest, braid damp from earlier sparring, tanned skin kissed by the sun. His gaze flicks lazily between the twin girls and Alec, but there’s no mistaking the sharpness behind it. He’s tracking every motion.
I shift slightly between Aemon’s legs, my back tucked against his chest. His arms tighten around me instinctively. Protective. Possessive. Goddess, I love this.
Aemon rests his chin on my shoulder. “You’re frowning again. Thinking too hard?”
I grunt. “I told him to bring them to eat something. They’ve been in the water for an hour.”
Aemon lifts a grape to my lips, brushing it there until I open my mouth. His voice is a murmur, teasing. “Let him enjoy our little daughters. They’re monsters, but they’re cute.”
I glance at Griffin, who’s now dodging a flying kick from Alec, sword in hand. The boy moves like Aemon—sharp and fast, all precision and discipline. And he has Aemon’s blue eyes. His same boyish dimples when he grins. And Griffin’s infuriating focus.
Griffin grunts as Alec sweeps low with a wooden blade. “Oof. Getting quicker, little shadow. That one almost grazed my pride.”
Alec grins, his big blue eyes shining. “You say that every time you lose, Daddy!”
Griffin lunges forward dramatically, tackling the boy into the grass. “Lose?” he scoffs. “Your old man just didn’t want to embarrass you in front of the ladies.”
From the waterfall, one twin shouts, “We’re not ladies—we’re warriors, Daddy!” The other hurls a pebble with shocking accuracy. It misses Griffin’s shoulder by an inch.
I lift a brow. “They’re feral.”
Aemon hums. “Wonder where they get it from.”
I elbow him lightly, and he chuckles. Goddess, that sound. It rumbles through his chest and into mine.
He plucks another grape and feeds it to me. I savor it, sweet and cold. My hands drift down to my belly without thinking. The curve is slight, but undeniable now.
Aemon’s palm rests over mine. “I like when you let me read to you, love.”
“I like when you feed me, vampire.”
A rustle of grass, and then Griffin drops beside us, breathless. A streak of sweat glistens along his temple. “He’s getting better,” he says, pride low in his deep voice. “Soon I won’t be able to pretend I’m letting him win.”
I smirk. “Pretend, huh?”
Griffin scoffs, then leans forward and kisses me—deep, slow. One hand finds the back of my neck. His other rests low on my belly, where the next child grows. Then he pulls away with a grin and tosses a berry into Aemon’s mouth.
“You should have brought them already.”
Griffin says, “But they’re too busy trying to kill each other with water, little flower.”
I glare. “They’re four. They need food.”
“They’re fine,” he says. “Too adorable to discipline. I like them like that. Wild. And I can’t say no to their cute faces.”
“You say that about Alec, too.”
Griffin doesn’t even blink. “Have you seen his dimples? He looks exactly like Aemon did when he was ten. I didn’t say no to that face back then either.”
Aemon groans. “Don’t drag me into this.”
I lean against Aemon’s chest, watching the kids. Alec runs back toward the waterfall, sword raised, shouting something about glory and vengeance. The twins scream and pelt him with water. Pure chaos.
Home.
The sun has dipped lower. Shadows stretch. The air changes, subtly.
Aemon stiffens slightly behind me.
“It’s time to get back,” he murmurs. “The Black Moon is rising. We need to head back before they feel the shift.”
Griffin groans, flopping backward onto the grass. “Five more minutes.”
Aemon narrows his eyes.
It’s ironic how Griffin is the freaking Vampire King but he can’t say no to his family.
Griffin holds up his hands. “Fine. Twins! Out of the water!”
“Noooo,” they wail in unison.
One climbs onto a rock and tries to leap off again, but Griffin is already there, catching her mid-air, wrapping her in a soft black towel. The other twin glares at him until he picks her up too, bundle and all.
“You heard him,” Aemon tells them. “Time to go.”
They pout. Griffin kisses their wet foreheads anyway.
Alec jogs back to me, his damp shirt clinging to his thin frame. He throws an arm around my waist like he’s grown too cool for hugs but still wants one.
“I had fun today,” he says, his voice breathless. “When I grow up, I’m gonna be the most famous Draven in the world. Right Mommy?”
I ruffle his curls. “You already are.”
Griffin smirks. “She’s not wrong.”
Aemon, already walking ahead, glances over his shoulder. “You’ll be better than all of us, Alec.”
Alec beams. “Can we bring Autumn next time?”
I glance at Aemon. He lifts a brow. Griffin chuckles.
“Autumn, huh?” Griffin teases.
The little girl is from Cael’s House.
Alec mutters, blushing “She likes swordfighting.”
“Dangerous,” I say, smiling. “We like her already.”
The castle rises in the distance, sharp against the mountain dusk. House Draven—our stronghold, our sanctuary. We walk toward it together, the five of us. No—six, if I count the life inside me.
Griffin carries one twin, Aemon the other, their little faces tucked into strong necks. Alec clings to my hand as we move through the twilight. He glances at me, dimples deep.
“Do you think Autumn will like our castle, Mommy?” he asks quietly.
I kiss the top of his head.
“If she’s lucky enough to see it through your eyes,” I murmur, “she’ll never want to leave.”