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The world of vampires was quieter than anything I’d experienced before. It felt like I’d taken one big step out of civilization and landed in a sort of hidden utopia.
Yes, there were dangers in this world too. There was still The Coven and all the threats it posed. There were even sub-cults I’d since learned about that threatened the world I was building. I’d even been given vague hints that vampires and werewolves weren’t the only supernatural creatures humanity was in the dark about. For some reason, nobody would give me a straight answer on that front—even Riggs. I sensed danger when I asked them, and if it was dangerous, I could count on Riggs to be overprotective about it.
“Are you itching to get to Silverback?” I asked.
Riggs was working on a huge sandwich. He’d arranged for a portion of his pack to stay at Blackridge with us. I was fairly sure the only real reason he’d done it was to retain the services of one of the cooks, who was sending out pack members daily to gather supplies to keep them all happily fed. “They need their Alpha eventually,” Riggs said. “But I’ll make them wait as long as you need.”
I grinned. “I’ll be ready soon. As long as you promise we can come back.”
“Any time. Ana and Vladimir have assured me of it.”
I reached across the table, grabbing his hand. “You might be the best thing that ever happened to me. Do you know that?”
“Considering the state of your life and health when I found you, I don’t know how high a bar you had set for that title.”
I swatted at his hand. “That’s not nice.”
“But,” he said, setting his sandwich down—which was rare. The man hardly ever stopped eating once he started until all the food was gone. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, too. And I’ve lived a long life full of blessings. Nothing has come close to finding you.”
“I sort of found you, actually,” I said. “Remember?” I mimicked throwing a paper airplane.
“Yes. I remember the love letter slash suicide note you wrote and threw out your window. You know, I’ve never asked. Was that for me? Or were you throwing it to someone else?”
I hesitated. “Of course it was for you.”
Riggs smirked. “Liar.” He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed it. “My lovely little liar.”
“My grumpy, hungry, hairy, big, overprotective-”
Riggs cleared his throat.
“My lovely big protector?” I tried.
“Better,” he said.
49
Epilogue - Riggs
* * *
Four Months Later
My wolf was in full control of my body. I’d shifted and was dashing through the woods with the cool evening air in my fur. My Sylvie still slept in Silverback, and this was my time to bond with The Pack. We all ran free through the trees, letting our wolves breathe.
Being in this form was always strange. It felt like being a passenger, which was how I imagined my wolf felt most of the time. Him, with all of his impulse and power, forced to sit back and watch me wait to act on what I wanted and let my cravings pass me by when they weren’t convenient. It was an alien way of life for him, just like his complete disregard for consequences could be for me.
I found my mind wandering while he took us down toward a stream and drank from the crystal clear, cold water. As usual, my thoughts went to Sylvie and something that had been brewing between us for months now.
Werewolves didn’t exactly marry. They bonded and mated. To us, the distinction was important. One was a contract on paper and some flimsy words that half of humans disregarded and tossed aside when it suited them.
A bond was different. A bond was for life. A mate was for life.
Naturally, Sylvie still wanted to get married. She hadn’t said so in exact words, but I knew my Sylvie well enough to pick up on it. It helped that my blood flowed in her from our weekly feeding, which I’d come to thoroughly enjoy, as odd as that sounded.
Each time she drank from me, I was gifted glimpses of her mind and emotions—little snapshots of her memories seen through her eyes. She said she felt the same, and the feedings had only drawn us closer, not to mention giving an interesting third dimension to our sexual encounters since we knew any moment might come rushing back to us from the reverse perspective. That had taken some getting used to, but neither of us were complaining. It helped us learn to better please each other.
It had been during one such feeding that I’d sensed her real desires for marriage. She respected what I’d told her, but she grew up human and in a culture where she learned to crave the ceremony. And I’d come to thoroughly enjoy giving Sylvie exactly what she wanted.
