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Epilogue
One Year and Six Months Latter
Addie
Ragers were still ugly.
Hideous, even. Time hadn’t changed that little fact. Their grotesque faces were at the beginning stages of decay, and the smell wafting off of them was almost palpable. Their eyes were red, the color of ruby gemstones with how vibrant they appeared on their sunken faces, and their hair was falling from their scalps in clumps. Only one word could articulate these disgusting creatures: monsters. In the truest sense of the word.
They were the monsters you would see under the bed, elongated teeth and scales expanding down their bodies. You would see them beneath a staircase, lying in wait of their newest victim.
Fear. They evoked fear in you, a primal, tangible entity, seconds before you were devoured.
They were the face of evil incarnate. The asshole of the devil. Or Elena, the she-bitch who had left me for dead.
And no, I wasn’t being dramatic.
Geez.
As Asher cleanly sliced through the neck of the Rager, I admired his muscular form. Over the last year and a half, he had bulked out in a way that made my vagina open for business. I could clearly see each muscle accentuated through the thin shirts he loved to wear. With his back towards me, I was able to have a clear view of his ass. That was one asshole I loved to stare at. Asshole, as in his butt, not the man. Asher was intense, maybe. And probably psychopathic. But not an asshole. He just had a nice one that I loved to squeeze.
And not in the creepy way. Could assholes - and the loving of them - even be creepy? Like fingering an asshole? Was that creepy? Or normal? I knew that I loved fingers and other anatomical parts in my asshole. The guys, personally, didn’t care for it. I made them try once or twice, but they said it felt too strange. Ryder told me that he much preferred his dick inside my asshole instead of fingers inside of his. Or other dicks. We tried that before, and all of the participants said it was too weird. Shame.
Okay. Stop. Thinking.
Asher was laughing, the only indication I must have spoken my thoughts out loud.
I still had a tendency to speak my mind. Literally. If I had a thought, you could bet your ass that it would be spoken out loud. Even after over a year in this apocalyptic hellhole, that one thing remained consistent.
The world fell to shambles around us, but good old Addie still spoke her thoughts aloud.
“Don’t listen to me!” I shouted just as another Rager raced forward, arms extended. Before it could converge on Asher, it was shot in the head.
Ryder blew on the barrel of the gun, eyes sparkling with amusement.
Ryder was the dark to Asher’s light, at least in looks. While Asher’s light blond hair was now hanging down his shoulders, Ryder kept his black hair cropped short. Asher’s skin was pale while Ryder’s was dark as night. Two entirely different men in both looks and personality.
Two entirely different men who made my heart kickstart.
I hadn’t realized how desperately I could love someone - or multiple someones - until these men barreled into my life like a freight train.
My story started off pretty damn normal, if I did say so myself. Rich, mafia-like, abusive parents. A quarter of a billion dollars in my trust fund. A life of luxury in a fancy resort.
Completely normal.
My new normal? Slicing the heads off Ragers while cackling malevolently and planning my next orgasm.
We had gifted my blood over a year ago to a group of scientists, but so far, they hadn’t found a cure or vaccination. I hadn’t given up hope yet. With Doc leading the team, I knew they would get it done. It might take ten more years...or it might take ten more minutes. Either way, I had faith. Until then, we just had to survive.
Fallon pulled his dagger out of a Rager’s pinprick red eye. I’d given him the dagger for his birthday, and he hadn’t been without it since. I even heard him whispering to it from time to time as if it was his own baby.
Yes, this new world made him psycho, but he was my psycho. They all were.
I had a crossbow as my weapon of choice. My men had gotten it for me as a wedding gift - an intimate event where we just sort of talked, exchanged rings, and then had large group sex. It was then that we tried out the whole butt thing (orholebutt thing).
How did I put up with seven husbands? Lube. Lots and lots of lube. And I fed them. And petted them. And sometimes took them out for walks, depending on my mood.
“Put the supplies in the van, and let’s get moving. I don’t want to stay here longer than necessary.” Fallon clapped his hands together, seemingly indifferent to the tar-like black blood cascading down his hands from the Rager he’d just killed. Ryder wordlessly handing Fallon a cloth and a bottle of water, and our leader worked on cleaning himself.
