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Epilogue One
Willow
Three months later…
Isaid I wanted a big wedding.
I did.
I said those words aloud to Maxim Thorn, a man with a reputation for taking things to extremes.
In my defense however, I knew the extreme thing applied to protecting his family, working his ass off for his pack, and bossing me around in bed. I had no clue he was going to go this over the top with our wedding day.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” My voice echoes in my headset as I lean forward, pressing my face against the chopper’s back window. My jaw drops as I blink, then blink again, keeping my lids closed for a long beat.
But when I open them again, the royal blue tent ringed with lanterns is still set up on the snow-covered island in the middle of the peaceful lake. The large bonfire is still burning on the rise behind it and at least fifty of our nearest and dearest are milling about bundled in fluffy coats—or already furry and romping in the snow—while waiters in tuxedos move between them, delivering what looks like champagne and—
“Hot cocoa?” I turn back to Maxim, who is looking justifiably smug and pleased with himself.
“A certain little wolf I know has pregnancy cravings for hot chocolate,” he says. “The kind with chili powder in it specifically.”
I slap his tuxedo clad arm. “Shut up.”
“And for dinner our guests can choose between pork loin, filet mignon, or a sandwich composed almost entirely of cucumbers and pickled cabbage.”
The words bring tears to my eyes. I’ve been craving that exact sandwich all freaking day. “Really? Oh my god, Maxim, that sounds so good. I can’t even…” My stomach rumbles, protesting its emptiness. But before the wedding I was too nervous to eat and after too busy packing for what I thought was a quick honeymoon trip upstate.
But this is so much better. This is my dream after party; the one I insisted we shouldn’t have because I thought it would be wrong to celebrate when so many people have lost contact with loved ones in the Parallel with no idea if—or when—they’ll ever speak to them again.
Looking down at them now, however, it’s clear this was the right choice.
Everyone looks so happy and excited, even Diana is swooping around in her owl form, playing with the kids in the snow. She’s been so sad since losing Jacob—more so than about her curse, as far as I can tell—but at least for tonight she seems to have remembered that there is beauty and joy in the world.
“I’m going to devour three of those sandwiches, you brilliant man,” I say, squeezing Maxim’s thigh. “With hot chocolate.”
“And I’ll do my best to watch you do that and not vomit.” He slides the hand around my shoulder down to my butt and tugs me closer. “But we’ll see. I’m a man, not a superhero.”
“You’re my hero.” I tip my head back, bringing my lips closer to his. “And I think you’re pretty super.” He kisses me, soft and sweet, and I murmur against his lips, “Thank you so much for this. I’m…blown away.”
“I told you that night at the motel that I was going to rent a private island for our wedding party. I hope by now you know that I keep my promises.”
“I do,” I assure him, “but I was thinking camping, grilled hot dogs, and all the puppies rolling around in the snow, not jaw-dropping swanky swank. Not that I’m complaining,” I hurry to add.
“The puppies can still play in the snow,” he says, glancing past me to the window as the chopper sinks down to land in a clearing near the tent. “And the adults can have a gourmet meal, dancing, and heated yurts to sleep in after. But don’t worry, our yurt is on the opposite side of the island so no one will hear you scream.”
A wicked smile curves my lips. “I’d like to be able to promise that I won’t scream, but you’re very good at your work, Mr. Thorn. If the whole king of the shifters thing doesn’t work out, you could make a killing in the red light district.”
His eyes dance. “Ready to share me already?”
“Never,” I promise. “I’ve licked you and called dibs. Now you’re mine. Those are the rules.”
“I like those rules,” he says and kisses me again.
We’re still making out when the helicopter doors open and Hermione shouts, “Come on, you two, enough of that. We’re starving. Food first, face sucking later.”
I pull away from Maxim with a laugh, leaving my headset on the seat as I accept the hand Hermione offers to help me out. As she does, I notice the raven-haired woman I’ve seen her with a lot lately standing not far away and arch a pointed brow.
Hermione grins and shrugs. “I figured I should bring a date. Since it’s a wedding celebration and all.”
