He presses the gentlest kiss imaginable just above the swollen, raw skin.
Sirens echo through the mountains. Red and blue lights dance across the snow. Firefighters rush past us toward the cabin. Deputies that I don’t recognize fan out around the property.
Someone calls my name, and I look up.
Ángel.
His clothes are streaked with dried blood as he clutches Javier's hat in one hand.
Santiago is on his feet before Ángel reaches us. “How is he?”
Ángel's eyes fill.
“Bear's okay,” Ángel informs.
Relief washes over all of us.
Ángel's gaze drops. “But...” His voice breaks. “Javier didn't make it.”
I’m unable to sit up any longer. Walker catches me as I slump forward.
Santiago doesn't cry immediately. He simply stares as if he didn't understand the words.
Then his knees buckle.
Levi catches him, pressing his head to Santiago’s. I watch as his lips move, offering whispers of love and comfort.
I force myself to my feet, only achieving the movement with Walker’s help. Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around Santiago. He turns in my arms and folds against me as Walker holds our combined weight.
Santiago’s shoulders shake, allowing himself to grieve.
The four of us stand together beneath the falling snow while the cabin burns behind us.
The fire consumes the entire structure—the roof, the walls, the secrets, the lies, the pictures.
Everything Grant built his life around turns to ash.
I rest my hand on the skin above the Falling Sky brand on my stomach. It still hurts. Maybe it always will.
But as Walker covers my hand with his, Levi takes my other, and Santiago leans his forehead against mine…
I realize that Grant was wrong.
He didn't mark me as belonging to Falling Sky.
I already belonged.
Not to the ranch or the symbol.
I belong to a family that chooses me.
And I choose them back.
EPILOGUE
BLAKE, FOUR MONTHS LATER
The first thing people notice is the mountains, not my paintings.
