Epilogue

“My dear, what is going on?”

Lucien turned at the sound of his husband’s voice and bowed. He was wearing traditional Thai clothing in a Raj style, although he’d opted for a red jacket to honor Harry’s culture, along with black pants, but no socks or shoes. He preferred to be barefooted. It was also reminiscent of their first meeting.

He twirled in a single circle on the dance floor. “Do I please you, husband?”

“Always,” Harry replied, glancing around the room as he approached.

“There are no members or boys about. Only the two of us are out here and I’d like to dance, if you please.” He nodded at Kitty, who put on his chosen song, Why by Shawn Mendes.

Harry gave him that smile that assured Lucien he was treasured. He opened his arms, letting Lucien into his familiar embrace.

He followed his husband’s lead, because that had always been their way. Lucien didn’t want it differently. From the first moment he’d laid eyes on the man who wasn’t human, he’d known that his destiny was to belong to him. Unlike any other man who’d taken Lucien’s body without his consent to his constant repulsion, Harry had only ever given him the freedom to choose to be his.

“What is all of this about, my dear? We rarely dance and you hate being in the club.”

Lucien nodded in agreement. “That’s true. I don’t like it down here, but that’s only because of its patrons. The space itself is lovely. And after all we’ve been through lately, I wanted to give us a little time to ourselves. I’m selfish that way.”

“You are anything but that. You have always put others before yourself.”

With a shrug, Lucien rested his head on Harry’s chest. “Perhaps I simply find myself with more time on my hands than I know what to do with now that Demi is learning outside of home and Dafydd is caring for Idris. And, I miss being with only you.”

Harry gathered him closer, moving him around the floor in time to the music. “We are classic empty-nesters. You are right. We should take some time for each other. We could go on a trip, if you would like.”

“Anything, so long as I’m with you.”

He gave them a minute more, enjoying the song and the slow turn around and around. “You know that I love you, do you not, husband?”

Harry held them in place and leaned back to stare at him. “What makes you ask that now, after so long?”

Lucien frowned at finding the right words. “I think perhaps it comes from seeing Dafydd, knowing how he was abused, and also watching Trey struggle with his feelings for Demi, believing him to be too young. I worry, have for all our time together, that you think I gave myself to you out of obligation, not desire.”

Harry turned his head away, not looking him in the eye as he answered. “It has been a concern of mine.” He did gaze down at him now. “After all that you’d been through, how could I ever be sure you truly wanted me? I would cut out my own heart rather than force you into my bed.”

“Hush.” Lucien placed his palm against Harry’s cheek. “That is exactly what I feared. But you needn’t worry over it. I gave myself to you because I fell in love with you.”

“Is it love or gratitude, my dear?”

Lucien had to stand on his toes to reach Harry’s mouth. “Can’t it be both? It started out as one and slipped into the other by the time you claimed me. I schemed for years to make it so. You were very stubborn about it.”

Harry turned his head to place a kiss on Lucien’s palm. “I had to be sure, and even then, I wasn’t fully. I am weak where you are concerned. As much as you submit to me, you have the power to kill me with a single word—no.”

“I will never say it,” he rushed to reassure his husband. “I love you, Harry. You must never think otherwise. Never doubt how utterly perfect we are for each other. That is what would cause me to die.”

Harry’s grip tightened in that show of raw power that should have frightened him, yet only served to make him feel cherished and safe. “That won’t happen for a long time to come.”

“Good, that will leave us plenty of time for sex.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Lucien, my dear, how uncharacteristically naughty of you.”

“Some of Demi must have rubbed off on me. What are you going to do about it?”

Without saying another word, Harry swooped Lucien up into his arms, as he’d done over a hundred years ago, and carried him away to a place of promise and hope.