Lark’s cheeks flush, but there’s a spark of mischief in her gaze. “And who says I’ll let you?”
I lean back, a slow grin spreading across my face.
“Because you want it as much as I do,” I say simply, my voice filled with certainty.
She lifts her chin, her expression defiant. “Maybe I do.”
I lower my head, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss that says everything I can’t put into words. She responds instantly, her mouth warm and welcoming, her free hand sliding up to cup the back of my neck. The kiss deepens, filled with the same passion that’s always burned between us, a fire that refuses to die down.
When we finally pull back, both of us are breathing hard, our foreheads resting against each other. “I love you, Lark,” I say, my voice rough. “More than anything.”
“I love you too, Hunter,” she whispers back, her voice steady and sure.
I glance down at Finn, his tiny face still peaceful, unaware of the world he’s been born into. “And you, little man,” I murmur, my voice filled with affection. “You’re going to have one hell of a life up here.”
Lark rests her head against my shoulder, her eyes soft as she looks down at our son.
“We’re going to give him everything,” she says, her voice filled with a quiet determination.
I tighten my hold on her, feeling a fierce sense of protectiveness. “Damn right we are.”
Mom clears her throat, her eyes filled with a mix of happiness and nostalgia. “It’s good to see this,” she says quietly. “To see the next generation of Warners growing up on Devil’s Peak.”
Lark smiles, her eyes bright with gratitude. “We’ll make sure he knows where he comes from,” she promises. “And how much he’s loved.”
I watch as mom reaches out to take Finn’s tiny hand in hers, her expression filled with tenderness. “He’s a lucky boy,” she says softly. “He’s got parents who love each other, and a family that’s always here.”
Lark turns to me, her eyes shining. “We’ve got everything we need, don’t we?”
I lean down, kissing her again, slow and deep, savoring the moment. “Yeah, we do,” I murmur against her lips. “Everything.”
And as I hold my wife and son close, I know that this is where I’m meant to be—right here, on Devil’s Peak, surrounded by love, family, and the promise of a wild, beautiful future.
Third Epilogue
Lark–five years later
The air is crisp, filled with the clean scent of pine and the soft rustling of leaves overhead. The late afternoon sun filters through the trees, casting dappled light over our campsite on the Phantom River. It’s our favorite spot—secluded, peaceful, and just wild enough to keep the kids entertained for hours.
I glance over at Hunter, standing at the edge of the river with a fishing rod in his hand, his broad shoulders relaxed, his stance steady. He’s the picture of calm confidence, a man who’s at home in the wilderness. I can’t help but smile. Even after all these years, the sight of him still makes my heart race.
Behind me, our three boys are a blur of movement and shouts, caught up in an intense game of cowboys and Indians. Branches snap, laughter echoes, and the occasional splash signals that someone has taken an unplanned dip in the river. I keep an eye on them, my heart a mix of worry and amusement.
And then there’s Abigail—our baby girl, our sweet surprise. She’s sprawled on a picnic blanket, one chubby hand grabbing at her toes as she coos happily. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s gnawing on her fingers, teething but determined to stay cheerful. I bend down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead,inhaling her baby scent—milk, powder, and that undefinable sweetness that only babies have.
“You’re getting big, little one,” I murmur, my voice filled with love. She gurgles in response, flashing me a gummy smile that makes my chest tighten with an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
I rise and make my way toward Hunter, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin, the soft grass under my feet. I come up behind him, my hands finding their way to his shoulders, my fingers pressing gently into the tense muscles of his neck.
“Catch anything yet?” I ask, my voice low and teasing.
He grunts, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Just your attention, it seems.”
I laugh softly, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of his neck.
“That’s a good start,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper.
His muscles relax under my touch, but there’s still a tension there—an alertness that never really leaves him, even in moments like this. “You know,” I begin, my hands working a little deeper into the knots in his shoulders, “I never thought I’d have this.”
