And this time, when the others echo the words, it’s not a threat or a war cry.
It’s acknowledgment.
Of family.
Of belonging.
Of the bonds we’ve forged in blood and impossible choices that should have destroyed us, but instead made us stronger.
I’m no longer human.
I’ll never be human again.
But standing here, wrapped in Raze’s arms, surrounded by my brothers, magic singing through my veins in patterns that speak of power, eternity, and belonging so fierce it defies description, I’ve never felt more like myself.
Free.
Alive.
Exactly, where I’m meant to be.
The clubhouse is in ruins around us. My body still aches from the transformation. Dawn is probably minutes away, and there’s cleanup, healing, and rebuilding ahead of us.
But right now, in this moment, everything isperfect.
Because I chose this.
Chosehim.
Chosemy family.
And I’d make the same choice a thousand times over, in every lifetime, in every reality where the possibility existed.
This is who I am now.
Witch.
Immortal.
Ol’ lady to the President of the Kings of Anarchy MC—Property of Raze.
And I’ve never been more ready for whatever comes next.
Epilogue
SCAR
Six Months Later
The argument has been going on for twenty minutes.
Twenty. Fucking. Minutes.
“I’m just saying…” Rhett insists, sprawled across the common room sofa as though he owns it, one leg thrown over the armrest, “… that statistically speaking, there’s a seventy-three percent chance they burn down the clubhouse before their first anniversary.”
Bennett, perched with rigid posture in the adjacent chair like he’s attending a church service instead of listening to a hellhound spout nonsense, doesn’t even look up from cleaning his blade. “You can’t just make up statistics.”
“I didn’t make it up. Icalculatedit.”