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He’d given up everything for me.

Everything.

“Izzy found me outside Kilmorran stumbling around in the dark. She took me in. Cleaned me up and together,” he said, gesturing to the half circle of my friends behind him, “they helped me come back to myself. To learn what I needed to learn to be able to live this life with you. That is all I want, Avery.”

“I—I watched you. You vanished. You were meant to rest, Wolfe.”

He grinned, dimples flashing. “I told you once that we were bound—that my soul would follow yours across the stars. I meant it. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t have done to find a way back to you.” He tipped my chin up. “I love you. More than I have ever loved anything else. In every life, in every universe, for me it will only ever be you.”

A sob ripped from deep in my chest and I bowed my head.

“I can’t believe it,” I mumbled. “I can’t believe you would—”

“Can’t you?” He ducked to meet my gaze. “‘I exist only when you look at me,’” he rumbled. “See me, grá, and know that I am yours.”

I moved then, throwing my arms around his neck. He trembled against me, arms banding around my waist. His heart was a song against my own. Strong. Real. Warm.

He’d found a way back to me.

“I love you,” I choked out. “I didn’t stop. Not for a day.”

“I know.” His lips touched my cheek, my neck, my nose. “I saw it all, Avery. I know.” His mouth found mine, fingers spearing through my hair to hold me in place. He kissed me until I saw stars and still, it wasn’t enough.

It didn’t matter to me that we had an audience, that Isadora and Marissa were openly weeping. I kissed him back, hands clutched in the fabric of his sweater.

“You’re with me?” I asked against his lips.

His smile was radiant. I tasted it against my own.

“Aye,” he said, nose brushing mine. “I’m with you. Forever.”

Epilogue

Wolfe

Who knew that, in death, he would have figured out what it meant to live.

All those years of waiting, of despair, led him here.

To her.

Even now, two years later, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Not as he watched her laugh across the table, head thrown back and eyes dancing. Not as he thumbed the gold wedding band on his left hand, a small thistle engraved on the top of it. Not as she turned that gaze on him, every bit of it weighted with love and adoration.

He was real—his heartbeat proved it, as did the blood in his veins—but still, there were moments he was sure he only existed when she touched him.

So many years in the shadows would do that, he thought.

He had clawed his way to the light and back into himself.

He would never take it for granted again.

He watched Avery thrive, another book hitting the shelves next week. He watched her rediscover her joy, her zest for life, her bravery.

And it was a privilege to witness it, to know that together, they had helped each other rediscover what it meant to live.

They traveled, walking on black sand beaches and creeping through ancient libraries. They fought over dinner plans and taking out the trash. There were slow mornings in bed, late nights out along the river with melting ice cream cones. There were memories and tears and laughter—Christ, so much laughter.