I won’t panic. I won’t. Faded wasn’t gone. And this was a far more complex surgery than she’d performed on Fluffy when she shared a piece of her heart with him. It was a far more painful surgery, too. In some ways, however, the process was easier. Brochan’s body accepted her lifeforce as if they were one and the same. Two halves of a whole. Maybe they were.
If she lost another ability, so be it.
Fluffy remained by her side all the while, primed from battle. At some point, McCadden arrived to gather the pieces of the Forsaken and pile them inside a locked cell for burning later. Or another surgery. Viola’s mind raced with possibilities…
Still fading… There was only one Best Mate Ever, and Brochan was it.
Can’t lose him. Agony choked her. Tears stung her eyes. Working faster…
Finally, she finished, nothing else to be done. His head was attached to his body, his spirit nestled inside. His eyes remained closed, and she fought for breath, her lungs squeezing. If this failed…
This couldn’t fail.
“Brochan.” She shook his shoulders. “You wake up right this second. That’s an order from your beloved. Wake or I’ll be extremely cross with you. I might even give you the silent treatment!”
Nothing.
McCadden pulled her head against his chest. Not to stop her but to…comfort her? “He’s gone, goddess. He’s gone. I am so sorry. I—”
“No!” Too frantic to untangle the meaning behind his actions, she wrenched free and gave Brochan another shake.
“Either you wake up, or I wed your brother-son,” she screamed in his face.
His eyelids popped open, rage flaring in his irises. He blinked. “Kitten?”
Relief shoved her into motion. Crying out, she threw herself atop him, and he wrapped his strong arms around her. As she sobbed, he held her and cooed.
When finally she calmed, she sagged against him and sniffled. “I did it. I saved the day.”
“You did,” he replied. “And you did it well.”
“The wellest.” Sniff, sniff. He was alive and well, and she was free of the demon. They had hope and a future! “I don’t think you’ll need a battery charge. You love me so much, I was already a part of you.”
Fluffy raced circles around them, clearly excited to have his parents all better.
“Well,” she said, “apparently I’m not just the goddess of the Afterlife. I’m the goddess of New Beginnings.”
He rolled her to her back, rising above her—to everyone’s horror—and brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “We will have the most incredible life together.”
“Everyone will be so jealous of us.”
McCadden cleared his throat. “Not everyone.”
Brochan blinked, satisfaction radiating from him. Then he pressed a swift kiss to Viola’s cheek and said, “Babysit your fur-brother, McCadden. Daddy has things to do to Momma.” With that, he flashed Viola to their bathroom and stripped her in the shower…
Epilogue
Brochan stood behind Viola, dressed in his good leathers. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. This way, everyone could admire his deliciousness properly—Viola’s words not his. The Wedding Reception-slash-Welcome to Our Realm party had kicked off hours ago, but he and his wife remained at the entrance to the throne room, greeting their guests. Apparently, that was something decent hosts did.
He did no greeting, however; he only grunted. He was too busy admiring his goddess. She wore a sexy pink gown, her pale, glossy hair flowing freely. A smile of joy lit her face as she spoke to her friends and acquaintances, waving families inside the spacious room she’d decorated with endless couple portraits.
Fluffy rested in Brochan’s arms, hissing at anyone who attempted to pet him.
Brochan kissed his adorable face. “Such a good boy. You make Daddy proud.” He and Viola had done as discussed and transplanted a wing root between the animal’s shoulders. One of Farrow’s wing roots.
The procedure had proved easier than expected for both the goddess and their fur-son. Fluffy had rebounded quickly, growing a pair of tiny wings covered in soft down. No more infusions necessary.
“How long must I stand here?” McCadden asked at Brochan’s side. A wing root had been offered to him as well, but he had yet to accept. He hadn’t rejected the idea either. They had time now. They would figure everything out and ensure a happy ending for everyone.
“Until your mother gives you permission to move,” Brochan replied.
His brother scowled. While he remained a Fallen One, Brochan had indeed become a Sent One. Without bitterness, he’d had no poison. Filled with love, he’d healed. In the process, he had retained his physical form. What strength you gained through experience, you kept.
Viola motioned him closer, saying to a pretty brunette, “This is the stalker I texted you about. Isn’t he divine?” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Brochan, this is my on-again off-again friend, Cameo, former keeper of the demon of Misery. We’re currently on again, since she started texting me again.”
His chest swelled with pride. He loved when his goddess claimed him. “I am her husband now,” he said.
The brunette responded to him, then seemed to say something teasing to Viola, but he didn’t hear her actual words. Viola was beaming at him. He only heard the sound of joy.
“Viola!” a young boy with a mop of black hair and vivid violet eyes bellowed. He marched over, a lad on a mission, brushing past the one named Cameo, only to stop abruptly and bow. “Goddess. I’m not supposed to say this because it’s supposedly creepy, but I missed you and you are beautiful and I’m going to marry you one day.”
Brochan stiffened. Um…what now?
“Urban,” she twittered. “How wonderful to see you, darling. Brochan, did I ever delight you with stories about how I saved the Lords of the Underworld and their children? Remind me to tell you all the details later. Anyway, I babysat Urban, and he developed a bit of a crush. Naturally.” Leaning down, she said to the boy, “I have a fantastic surprise for you. A new obsession, in fact.”
Straightening, she motioned to the wall behind them, positioned between two flights of stairs, where Farrow’s head hung, mounted like a prized deer…but still alive. And still without a body.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Viola asked.
The kid peered up at Farrow and shrugged. “Yeah. So?”
“She’s also selfish?” Viola seemed to ask a question while stating a fact.
Again, the boy shrugged.
“She’s very…naughty?” Again, the goddess seemed to ask a question.
Now little Urban perked up. He gave Farrow another look, this one lingering, soon becoming admiring. Even adoring. Well, well. He’d taken the bait. Although…
“I don’t know if I’m insulted or not,” Viola mumbled to Brochan. “I thought he liked me for my exquisite face. Turns out, he has the hots for the baddest girl to ever bad.”
“I have the hots for the hottest girl to ever hot,” Brochan told her, earning a smile.
The line of guests moved along, finally tapering off.
Brochan and Viola loomed outside the throne room. He sat Fluffy down and wrapped his arms around his mate. She’d given up so much to be with him. To heal him, she’d lost her ability to mist, one of her greatest defenses. Brochan was determined to always guard her. Though he doubted anyone would ever dare try to harm her again.