EPILOGUE
NAOMI
The first thing I saw waking up was my befasting gown, puddled on the floor across the room amid a scattering of red ribbons, at least one torn off with teeth. I had to bury my face in the pillow for a bit, giggling and kicking a bit in pure joy that this was my life.
Damon wasn’t in the bed, which was disappointing, but my Compass tugged toward the kitchen, where I could hear pots clanging and water running. In the absence of morning cuddles, breakfast was acceptable. But I saw no reason we couldn’t combine the two.
I fought my way free of the tangled mess we’d made of the bedcovers and discovered the cold, cruel stone floors of the cabin Frank’s friend had lent us. Outside the window, endless marches of pine reflected in the lake, and Rocky Mountain peaks peer
