Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Standing on tiptoe, I grabbed his cheeks and kissed him.
While our tongues touched, I focused on the echoes of his loved ones, no longer trying to summon them but to find them through the veil. The meadow of wildflowers vanished, depositing us in another water city with floating walkways, canal boats, and a busy restaurant.
Sitting at a table were a family of six. Two older, two middle-aged, and two children.
I headed toward them, but Lucien grabbed my wrist and held me back.
“I just want to watch.”
So we stayed in the shadows, watching the reincarnations of Auntie Mei and Uncle Wen laughing and conversing with their family. Toward the end of the meal, Lucien’s heart kicked against mine as snatches of their voices travelled. “Luxin...don’t put your napkin in the candle. You’ll set fire to the entire restaurant.”
“It was your fault for calling him Furnace Heart,” Auntie Mei chided, plucking the napkin out of her young son’s hand. “You’ve set his fate in stone with a name like that. He’s either going to be hot-tempered when he’s older or—”
“Have superpowers where flames obey me?” Her son grinned.
“What can I say?” Uncle Wen laughed. “It popped into my head and I loved it so...”
“I love it too.” The little boy announced, stealing his sister’s napkin. “So much better than all the boring ones in school.”
“Don’t you dare.” Auntie Mei reached across the table, still as fierce as she was when we met all those years ago. “Leave poor Meilin alone.”
Lucien staggered against me; I picked up his thoughts.
Not only had Auntie Mei and Uncle Wen called their son by Lucien’s legitimate name, but they’d also used his mother’s for their daughter.
It proved that no matter how many lifetimes a soul lived—no matter how many times we lived or died, tried and failed, those memories lived on even if we didn’t remember.
Street performers appeared as the sun fell and fire torches were lit along the pier. Lucien finally roused himself and squeezed my hand. “Let’s go home. We’ll visit everyone else another day.”
As we stepped into the dreamscape to travel back to Ashfall Cliff, I made a promise to visit every single soul that we’d loved and cared for when we were still human. I’d check on my parents and his parents, the women who’d been trapped in Cinderkeep, and all those poor children and creatures who’d perished at Snowflake Corp’s hands.
As long as they were happy, we wouldn’t meddle.
But if they were hurting or sick or struggling...we would do whatever it took to give them a happier life. To repay the debt we owed them over as many lifetimes as it took.
As Ashfall Cliff solidified around us, Whisper and Echo barrelled out of the shadows, welcoming us back.
Lucien gave them a scratch before pushing them away and pulling me into his arms.
He kissed me.
We kissed until desire made us glow silver and gold.
We’d been lucky enough to have been given eternity to love and laugh and protect...and we aimed to use it wisely.
Epilogue Two
I SIPPED PEAR BLOSSOM WINE AND PRETENDED to look at the view, but in reality...I couldn’t take my eyes off Rook.
She lay in the same lounger where we’d gotten tipsy the night we’d lost our virginity to each other. Her silver nightgown draped on the ground and her eyes were closed as she tipped her face to the stars.
She was far too fucking beautiful.
I didn’t care we had eternity; it wouldn’t be long enough.
Whisper huffed where he lay sprawled beside Echo on the floor. The two panthers never left our sides, and somehow, twenty years had passed since we’d embraced immortality.
Ever since we’d brought Echo’s soul back to life, she seemed to have been infected by the same longevity as Whisper—neither of them aging or getting sick and we hoped we’d have them forever.
But if we didn’t—if one day they died...we’d just watch over their souls in their next reincarnation until we were able to bring them back to us.
The fragrance of jasmine hung in the warm night as I sat upright and placed my empty wine jar on the side table. Ever since we’d become something other than human, we could indulge in whatever we wanted. We didn’t need to eat but we enjoyed it. We didn’t get drunk but enjoyed trying.
Life was even more perfect than the illusion I’d conjured and as the lanterns flickered along the low balustrade of the terrace, their light dancing in the gentle breeze, my chest squeezed with overwhelming gratefulness.
My gaze slipped back to the view where stars blazed across the inky sky, and the shadows of the mountains thrummed with life.
I’d grown used to hearing every heartbeat living around us. I no longer struggled to block out the murmur of energy and existence. Each one I could snuff out with just a thought. Each one was far too precious to count.