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“I’m doing important queen maintenance,” Gabriel murmurs as he slides his hand over my swollen foot, digging the pads of his fingers in just the right places to make me moan.
“I’ll help.” Yara appears at the corner of the garden and heads after Eli.
Yara’s been amazing. I offered her all the money and resources she needed to start a new life anywhere in the world, but she chose to stay here with me. She acts as my personal secretary, managing my spreadsheets and doing all the boring admin stuff I hate. She doesn’t like to get blood on her hands, but she’s a ruthless negotiator and a steady presence in any room.
Gabe casts his eyes to the champagne sitting in the ice bucket on top of the bar, which is now covered in a layer of dust since I can’t drink anymore. Gabe’s not drinking, either. He went into rehab as soon as we took back the city, conveniently missing all the hard work we had to put in to return peace to the streets and get the animal shelter running. It’s been a long road – Gabe’s had to dig deep into his past to deal with the issues that made him want to hide behind alcohol. He was terrified of therapy, thought that if he spilled his darkest feelings to a shrink, he’d have nothing left for his music. Instead, the opposite has been true. Now that he’s back and clean, he’s writing new music every day and his new songs… they’re amazing. They tell the rise and fall and rise of an empire in notes of pure pain and beauty. He’s captured everything perfectly, just as I knew he would.
But no new tours for a while yet. Gabriel Fallen is about to have his hands full as a new daddy. All the guys are.
Yup. I’m pregnant. I’m nearly four months along now with a beautiful baby girl. Gabe supplied the bonkjuice that gave her life, but she’s all of ours. Our miracle. Our legacy.
Many of my soldiers already know, but we’re announcing it to our family tonight at Colosseum. It’ll be pretty tough to hide now – in the last two weeks, I’ve ballooned to three times my normal size. I feel like an elephant. I can’t sleep. That tranquilizer Mackenzie shot me with is starting to sound like a brilliant idea.
Queen Boudica stretches her paw across my bulging stomach, her eyes meeting mine. I’ll protect this baby with my life, she seems to say. Just like you protected me.
Everything comes full circle. This baby is our future, our hope. Instead of cruelty, she’ll know love and kindness. Instead of being so completely alone, she’ll have an amazing family to teach her everything.
I’m still afraid about bringing a daughter into our world. Our daughter will be baptized in bloodshed, and one day she’ll have to choose between our kingdom and her own path. I don’t know what the future will bring for me or for her.
I cast my die in with this lot. I may have lost the only family I’ve ever known when I found out about Antony’s betrayal, but I’ve gained so much more.
I raise my glass of alcohol-free pink champagne and toast Gabriel with a wink. “Pour yourself a glass of this, Fallen. Drink and be merry, for tomorrow we bathe in blood.”
THE END
Claudia’s empire may be secure (for now) but her children are about to bring down a mountain of trouble on her head in the second-generation series, Stonehurst Prep Elite:
I’ll do anything to get in. I’ll even become theirs.
Victor. Torsten. Cassius – the jock, the artist, the stepbrother.
The Poison Ivy Club.
Ruthless.
Connected.
Violent.
Untouchable.
They rule Stonehurst Prep with an iron fist.
If you want Harvard, Princeton, or Yale, they’ll get you in.
Guaranteed.
But they’ll take their pound of flesh first.
A deal’s a deal – you give them whatever they want, and they’ll make your dreams come true.
And they want me.
In their beds.
On their arms.
Part of their gang.
