Page 130 of Imprisoned with the Vampire King

"It might be worth a try," I said.

"Only if you want to."

"I think I do."

I spread my wings, and let out a soft breath before raising them the way I'd learned to so many years ago.

When I brought them back down, I rose from the ground a little before landing again.

A quiet laugh escaped me, and I met Dante's small grin with one of my own.

I flapped my wings again, carrying myself a little higher before my feet met the floor again, and my grin widened.

The third time, I shot higher into the air. I was far from steady, but it was second nature to take myself up through the elevator's opening, and out into the prison's lobby.

I landed on wobbly feet, and no one batted an eye in my direction.

I guess that was what it meant to have wings. No one was surprised that I could fly, other than me.

Dante climbed out two minutes later, and when he pulled me into his arms, I kissed him deeply.

My heart was still beating fast when we walked out of the prison together, hand-in-hand.

It was over.

The past was finally in the past. Maybe now, I could leave it there.

epilogue

OPHELIA—A FEW MONTHS LATER

"Don't start acting like a businessman," I warned Dante, as he rolled my new, fancy wagon toward our stall at the farmer's market. "I don't want you trying to sell people things. We just let them look. If they want something, they'll buy it."

"So we're not trying to sell things?" he checked.

"Right. The pottery sells itself."

His forehead creased.

"Don't start telling me how to run my business," I warned, seeing that look in his eyes. "This isn't even a business. It's me, getting rid of my pottery so I have more space on my shelves to make more."

"Alright. So we're… observers?"

"Correct. We're observing the pottery while it sells itself. There's a donation bowl on the table."

"Okay." He paused. "This isn't how you always sold your pottery, right?"

"Of course it is." I started unloading the dishes onto my table, gesturing him toward the shelves we needed to assemble. I'd taught him how to do it the day before.

"For the record, this isn't a sound business plan, Angel." He sounded amused, and was fighting a grin when I glanced at him again. He hadn't started assembling the shelves yet, but I knew he'd get to it.

"Good thing I married rich, huh?"

He laughed, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close. "Good thing."

The phone in his jeans' pocket vibrated against my ass. It could've been mine, or his. He carried both, most of the time.

He kissed my forehead before releasing me and pulling it out. "Everyone wants to know if we're still in for family dinner tonight, at five."