Page 36 of Stolen Choices
Life was perfect.
Neither of them were broken
Their choices of how they live were now their own and not stolen from them.
They eventually collapsed down onto the bed together, Jackson withdrawing from inside her and pulling her into his arms.
“Are you ok?” Jackson asked as he stroked the mating mark on her neck. It didn’t hurt, despite the fact he’d sunk his teeth into her. It glowed with love, instead.
“I’m alive. I’m living for the first time in a long time. I’m free and utterly, totally, undisputedly in love.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Jackson hesitated. “So, do you think you might like to do what we did again?”
“Hell yes,” she replied and pounced on him.
The sounds of the other couples in the mansion doing exactly what they were doing surrounded them, but she didn’t want to run away from it this time. Katia welcomed the love in the building, for she finally understood it. She couldn’t help but laugh, though, when she heard the loud growl from Kas, and his feet stomping loudly past her bedroom door.
“I’m never going to sleep again!” he roared.
Epilogue
Nuka Lincoln sat on one of the chairs in the corner of Ciaran’s room. The acrid smell of the druid’s potions invaded his nostrils and caused him to cough. He withdrew a handkerchief from the front pocket of his suit jacket and placed it over his nose.
“Will this take much longer?” the alpha polar bear questioned his beta, who was currently in the middle of the room standing in a pentagram drawn on the floor and reciting a spell. The druid didn’t answer, so Nuka reached out with his free hand for the glass of whiskey on the table next to him, and after lowering the handkerchief, he took a long sip.
The druid had been in here for hours now doing the spell that could change the face of the world forever. The herbs Nuka had obtained from Weston were the last piece of the puzzle that had been needed. It would be his time soon—he’d rid the world of humans and become the most powerful leader there’d ever been. Hitler would have nothing on him... although the man did have a great choice in mustache. Nuka stroked under his nose. Maybe he should consider growing something like that to distinguish himself from his twin. No, looking the same as Kas would have its advantages when he blamed his brother for everything that was about to happen.
“Ciaran, how much longer?” Nuka tried again with his beta, but the druid was lost in the spell.
The chanting stopped, and the air crackled with the intensity of the darkness Ciaran had conjured forth. Black smoke made its way out of the floor in the center of the pentagram and twisted itself around Ciaran’s body. Nuka leaned forward. The change had begun. He only hoped Ciaran was strong enough to survive it. He’d never known anyone as well versed in the dark arts as his druid. The good witch, Jessica, in the Glacial Blood pack was weak and feeble compared to his magical man.
“Come on.” Nuka found himself chanting as he watched the smoke reach Ciaran’s nostrils and then flood through them and into him. The druid’s eyes turned fully black—none of the iris or the whites were visible. A fiery red light enveloped Ciaran next and grew brighter and brighter. Nuka shaded his eyes, so it wouldn’t blind him. But when the room was plunged into darkness, he removed his hand and saw his beta collapsed on the floor. The polar bear got up from his comfortable chair and made his way over to his friend, making sure to avoid stepping inside the pentagram.
“Ciaran. Did it work?”
Nothing.
No movement.
No signs of life.
Fuck.
No.
The druid can’t have failed.
Nuka reached out for something resting against a table that looked very similar to a witch’s broomstick. He turned it so the brush end was in his hand, and then making sure he didn’t touch any of the chalk pentagram, he prodded at Ciaran with the handle, checking to see if there were any signs of life at all.
Fuck
Shit
Fuck
No.
Nothing.