Page 172 of Jace
A good father: it’s everything he wasn’t and wishes he had been.
It’s his apology, leaving us speechless. Silent as we watch Tariel leave with him, but not before Tariel nods toward Axel. It’s the gesture we need—the peace we’ll have. We’ll meet again one day.
Slowly, we turn, the kings pulling their queens into solemn hugs. Sasha rushes to Mom, hugging her, with Roman loyal by her side.
I won’t let Vivian go; my future is permanently in my grasp. “I love you,” I murmur into her ponytail. “We’re finally free, baby.”
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers over my heart.
Pride. Yeah, it’s what we feel like—the pride that survived together. With my arm over her shoulder, I give single-armed hugs to my brothers, to my queens.
“You forgave him.” Sire slaps my back. “It’ll save your soul.”
“What aboutyoursoul?”
He leans down, his arm around Wren, kissing her curls before he answers, “I started to forgive him once he gave me her. But forgiveness isn’t a single act; it’s an odyssey. I’ll get there one day.”
We find ourselves in a circle, searching eyes, searching souls. Peace, like a ribbon, woven around us.
“With each baby born, I found forgiveness.” Our mom shares. “For so long, I thought it was me forgiving God; I was so mad about my fate. But now…” She’s letting proud tears fall; goddamn, all the queens are. “I’m so thankful for our lives.”
Ruby grins, swiping her cheeks dry and cutely challenging. “Does that mean you’ve forgiven Ruslan?”
Our Queen laughs. “My dear, a Southern woman forgives a manafterhe’s buried.”
Alena bubbles. “Well, better late than never.”
Vale cackles. “Bless his dead heart.”
The moment lightens the mood. I gaze down at Vivian to share it with her, to steal a quick kiss, but she’s pale, her nose scrunched, her eyes fretting…
“Viv, baby, are you o?—”
“Oh no.” She lurches, turning around, vomiting a little pink puddle on the floor. “Sorry.” She spits joyfully. “God, I’ve been holding that in. I didn’t want to toss my cookies in front of the Pakhan.”
Wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her white cardigan, she smiles. “It’s not the baby. It’s my nerves. I’m just so relieved it’s over. We all can?—”
“Oh no…” Vale mumbles, holding her mouth, and sprinting across the club toward the ladies’ room.
Nash rushes after her while Grant booms, “If she pukes pregnant chunks, too, I’m not cleaning it up!”
“Gross, right?” Vivian radiates, all flushed and apologetic, her baby-blue eyes blinking up at me.
I smooth her golden ponytail, nothing but a smitten husband, a besotted best friend, a proud father. “No, Smokeshow. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
VIVIAN
One week later,I’m lying naked with Jace under the stars. The giant outdoor bean-bag double bed he bought as a sun lounger for our deck feels like the lone, puffy night cloud in the sky.
It’s heaven, the way he’s kissing my neck.
“We’re supposed to be watching a meteor shower, big guy.” I giggle lightly, his lips a tickling tease.
“Mmm.” His breath stirs by my ear. “You watch shooting stars while I nearly black out from pleasure, feeling my hard dick shoot inside your sweet wet cunt.”
“Jace Ryan!” Playfully, I smack his chest. A whisper against concrete. “We already went a round.”
