want flowery endings, but us? We just wanted a moment to enjoy that our struggles and pains were over and that we’d found our perfect ending. ~Magdalena Blackstone
We watched the people mingling, celebrating life. It felt surreal, returning from death and having everyone come back, or most everyone. I was losing my Joshua to Nyx, who had knowingly created the soulless to handle the coming apocalypse simply because she didn’t want heaven falling.
I didn’t know why she hadn’t wanted that to happen. Once her furies consumed Joshua’s soul, it would go to Lucifer. Somehow, knowing that he had my brother’s soul instead of Nyx gave me some bit of comfort.
Eris had been returned to her mother, Nyx, with the condition that she stayed away from Faery, the human realm, and Lucian’s world. By the time Lucian was finished telling her who she couldn’t come into contact with, it had ended up being pretty much everyone.
As expected, Eris threw a fit when she found out that Lucian would not be handing over her Apple of Discord. He chose to keep it hidden for the time being, but my instincts told me he had plans involving this spelled fruit.
Synthia was dancing with Erie, even though I was fairly certain that what Erie was doing couldn’t be considered dancing at all. Synthia would pause every few minutes to laugh, shaking her head and holding her belly. Ryder, on the other hand, watched, his eyes glowing every so often. The love they shared was the shit of legends.
Alden was inside Faery, hidden from their world in the cells below the High Fae Castle. He’d been supplied with ample food, if that’s what you called the willing changelings. My mother couldn’t leave the club or Lucian’s world, and had finally accepted that she wouldn’t get an ending with him. Alden couldn’t enter Lucian’s work in his current state, either.
He was transitioning to become fae, an Unseelie prince to be exact, and Synthia and Ryder had been tight-lipped on what would happen. Zahruk was handling it a lot better if you considered his endless brooding an improvement. Ryder was worried about him as well, but there wasn’t much anyone could do to stop what was happening.
Lucian had agreed to search through his library, which surpassed all others. I’d decided to assist him, because I was curious about what I’d find inside a never-ending library. All the pieces seemed to be falling into place, yet there was a lot still coming apart.
Everyone here was going through something, but no one showed it outwardly. We’d all become accustomed to shielding our emotions, so if you walked in and looked at someone here, you’d never know what they were feeling.
You wouldn’t realize Erie’s ex-lovers were hunting her and that the survival of an entire race rested on her producing a child.
You wouldn’t see the pain in Ryder and Synthia’s eyes or the worries they held for the daughter taken from them that they had yet to find.
Zahruk, though. You’d know something was up with, but you wouldn’t see that he’d been altered by magical goo in a dark alleyway that had spread, changing him into an Unseelie prince. I wondered how that will work out with him being the King of the Horde.
Lucifer was a sad kid, rejected by the father he loved, but by looking at him, you wouldn’t know that all he wanted was to love someone. You wouldn’t know that he had a child that was his moon and stars, and she was, too.
Lucifer loved his daughter and had every intention of protecting her with his dying breath, but I doubt he could ever die. He loved Makenna enough to allow us to take her, because he feared what would happen to her if he failed to protect her.
We were all misfits, and not a single one of us allowed it to show. We hid the pain and the proof of the hell we’d been through with fake smiles and kind words—well, most of us. Some merely grunted and walked away.
“What are you worrying over, Witch?” Lucian asked, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me back against his silent strength.
“That life happens, and that it did so during the small moments. Those small things had ended up being bigger than any of us had assumed they’d become. It was the instances you never notice until it’s too late to hold on to them. My grandfather once said that everything happens on its own time. It’s up