EPILOGUE
One year later—under the same moon that once demanded blood and sacrifice—the Harlow mansion stood bathed in silver light, slightly changed in its infrastructure, no longer burdened by curses, but wrapped in quiet magic. Inside the master chamber, dim lights flickered as shadows danced on the walls. Blade and Lyra lay tangled in silk sheets, limbs entwined, mouths breathless against each other. He kissed her slow, reverent—as if worshiping her existence. His lips trailed from her jaw to her collarbone, hands resting at her hips as if trying to memorize her shape all over again. Lyra let out a soft sigh, arching into him, fingers tangled in his hair. Moonlight spilled through the open window, brushing their skin— las though even the heavens wished to witness this quiet ecstasy. "You stil
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