He pulled out, breathing hard. The slick trickle of his cum marked my inner thighs.

Twisting in his arms, I smiled at the affection and awe in his eyes. We’d captured a miracle and lived in a fairy-tale.

“Come here.” His voice was hoarse and deep. Curling his arms around me, he embraced me with all the love we shared. The sex had been furious, but this was the epitome of tenderness.

My breasts pressed against his chest as my arms looped his waist, deleting all space between us.

We held each other for a long time, regrouping from coming undone so spectacularly.

Pulling away, Jethro’s eyes latched onto my mouth. “Thank you.” Bowing his head, his lips tickled mine. “Kiss me, Nila.”

Those two little words had become my absolute favourite.

I kissed him.

The dance was hot and wet, an erotic fusion of past and present with a lick of unforgettable futures.

Once we felt more human and not as raw and exposed, Jethro let me go. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he gently wiped his pleasure from my thighs and ducked to slip on my knickers.

I held onto his shoulder as he pulled the lace up my hips, hiding my nakedness. Letting my skirt fall back into place, I couldn’t tear my eyes from him as he tucked his still hard cock back into his jeans and buckled up.

Squirrel bounded from the undergrowth with perfect timing, almost as if he’d given us privacy. He yipped, wagging his tail as Jethro tossed him a stick to chase.

I smoothed down my clothing. “Now you’ve just ravaged your wife in the middle of the forest, do you want to know why I wanted to go somewhere special?”

His lips twitched. “Of course, I do—”

He froze, his forehead furrowed. “Oh, my God. You’re—you’re—”

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, did your condition steal my secret? After all this time, you guess right before I tell you?” Stamping my foot with mock anger, I growled, “I can’t surprise you with anything.”

Jethro didn’t move. “So you are…”

I beamed. “I am.”

He charged forward. His hands—the ones that’d been so sexually demanding and rough now held me as if I was spun glass. “Nila…hell, I can’t believe it. What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Holding his cheeks, I kissed him.

I kissed him for every day we’d been together and every day we had coming.

My heart overflowed with joy. “I’m pregnant, Jethro. And this time…it’s a girl.”

WHAT DO YOU say to a brother who was the cause of so much pain, but also so much happiness? What do you say to a life that gave so much, yet extracted so much in return? What do you say to a dead sibling, a deceased father, a slaughtered mother, a deranged grandmother?

What do you say to life?

Sitting in my favourite spot in the Hall, I smiled as Vaughn slapped Jethro on the back, coming in from checking on matters around the estate. They’d become closer as time went on, each learning different worlds and responsibilities, sharing Weaver and Hawk secrets.

I didn’t have the answers to life’s questions, and I didn’t have the wisdom to use what we’d endured for greater good. All I knew was we’d survived. We’d been given a fresh start, a happy future, an unsullied second chance. And I was sick to fucking death of not grasping it completely.

Nila had taught me something. She’d brought Jethro to life and Vaughn had stolen my heart in return.

For a while, I fought it. I ignored his advances and betrayed my desire for him. I didn’t believe he truly wanted something so broken. However, day by day, week by week, he’d shown me what a fool I was.

Yes, my legs had been stolen from me. Yes, I hated my loss and some days couldn’t shed my self-pity.

But now…now, I was stronger, smarter, and more adult than child. Yes, I couldn’t run. Yes, I couldn’t stand or dance or skip. But who cared when I could kiss and love and hug and exist? Exist in a far superior world than most, enjoy far more enjoyable experiences than most, and adore far more deeply than most because I knew what it was like to lose.

I was lucky.

So terribly, terribly lucky.

We all were.

Life was far too short. History had taught me that. And Vaughn had given me the strength to be brave and embrace it—hardships and all.

I loved my family—both alive and dead, both evil and kind. I loved my lineage—both revengeful debts and righteous ending. I wasn’t ashamed of my bloodline, but I had full intentions to make my future mean something. I wanted to dabble in charities. I wanted to give back what we’d taken. I wanted to make a difference with my life.

It was time to embrace every heartbeat because each was numbered, each was accounted for, and each was wasted by being fearful.

I’m no longer fearful.

I was sister to a lord. A powerful mistress in her own right. And matriarch to a six-hundred-year-old estate.

I had the means to make a difference.

I would never take life for granted.

And Hawksridge Hall would guard over all of us…just like it had for centuries.

Five and a half years later…

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO you. Happy birthday to you!”

Emma clapped her hands, wriggling in her chair to blow out the candles. “Stop singing! Now. I wanna blow now!”

Clamping hands on her tiny shoulders, I held her squirmy form in place. “So impatient.”

Nila smiled, snapping the happy moment with the camera. The same camera Tex bought us for our wedding anniversary last year. At the time, I was grateful but not overly-excited.