Page 112 of Escape from the Green

Iron.

"That mother fucker," I roared, fingers somehow gentle as the rage surged through me, making me momentarily worry the Change would overtake me without meaning for it to before I managed to bank down the worst of the anger. "Chair to the head. He deserved his cock cut off and shoved up his own... what?" I asked when Amy let out a strange snort.

"This wasn't Jet," she said, shaking her head. "This was Cass. And the guards. They put me in a cellar. It was Jet who came to get me, had them cut the iron off, brought me upstairs to bathe, eat, change. I even put some salve on that. It's better than it was."

She was trying to reassure me.

But if this was better, then it must have been horrific before.

That should have never happened to her.

Not on my watch.

I'd let her down.

"Hey," she tried again, small hands framing my face, forcing my gaze up. "Stop. I'm okay. A little sore. Kinda in shock still. But fine. I'm here. You got me. My ankle will heal. It doesn't matter." She leaned forward, pressing her lips to mine before resting her forehead against mine. "You were magnificent," she added. "So red. Like... perfectly red. Just like your eyes. Can we ride like that again?"

"Anytime you want," I promised. "But here. Behind the veil. I never want you to go out there again."

"You know, I am more than okay with that," she agreed, arms going around me, pushing and pulling at the same time, urging me to sit, climbing onto my lap, relief and need overtaking us both.

We kissed for what felt like hours, until she finally ripped her lips from mine, resting her forehead to my shoulder.

"Take me home, Drake," she demanded softly.

I stood, holding her close to me.

And I took her home.

EPILOGUE

Amy

My hand brushed over my stomach casually, secretly, wondering if my missed moonsickness was a sign, was hinting at a rounded belly within the next few months, at a fat baby in my arms around Yule, warmed by the fire with spiced cider, singing the hymns of our clan, thanking the universe for a new year, for our blessings, for the death of the old, the welcoming of the new, for the promise of sun, brighter days, new beginnings.

It was fitting, I would think.

It was so soon, though.

My gaze shifted, finding Drake standing in our steadily growing garden, all the sweet little seedlings poking through the earth.

Our first garden had been a lot of trial and error for me - abundant in squash and green beans, but everything else shriveling up on the vine, much to my mortification.

It was your first try, Amy, Drake consoled me when he'd caught me with my knees in the dirt crying with a pepper plant in my hands. This is why we all have a communal garden. Everyone has a bad season now and again. You'll be better next spring.

I hadn't believed him in the moment, being so wrapped up in my irrational self-doubt.

But that fall, I knocked on every single door in the village with a notebook in my hands, asking for their best tips for their most abundant fruits, berries, vegetables, and grains.

And then I put them to use as soon as another long, cold winter battered us. It was okay, though. The cold was barely noticed with Drake and I snuggled in our bed, sharing body heat.

It was hard to believe how quickly a year had passed us by, even though the days were slow and steady behind our veil, locked away in our little corner of the world.

Not everywhere knew our peace.

In fact, despite the best efforts of all the rational-minded fae in positions of power, it sounded as though the next Great War was starting, fae turning against fae, Dark against Light.

The unthinkable had happened not long after Drake and the others had charged into the Dark Court to save me, exposing their kind after so long.