Epilogue
BAREFOOT UPON THE SAND, her skirts whipping about her knees, Cait stood as a witness to her brother’s marriage, one of which she heartily approved. Not only was Isa beautiful, she was brilliant and unconventional and… other. Unlike her, Isa was completely at home in her own skin. Cait had learned much about the Finn world these past weeks and, though this world wasn’t truly hers, the fact that such a people existed? That gave her hope.
Her gaze drifted over the water. Too long she’d wondered about her own unusual origins. It was long past time she set about finding—demanding—answers.
The couple stood in the surf as it surged, swirling and frothing about their ankles, staring into each other’s eyes, as if someone had slipped a love potion into their afternoon tea. An old woman—the Finn elder—cleared her throat and began the ceremony by joining the bride and groom’s hands together. She spoke in a strange, old language, one that was apparently rarely spoken, even among the Finn.
“Beneath the moon, where the land meets the sea,” Nina spoke softly beside her, translating for her benefit, “we join together a daughter of the seal and,” the elder paused, adjusting for her brother’s Scottish heritage, “her chosen one.”
Nicely done.
A small girl stepped forward, lifting a crown that looked to be woven of dried seaweed and wildflowers. The woman placed it upon the bride’s head, chanting more words about the duality of a life lived both on land and in the sea.
The bride’s mother looked proud, even if Cait’s mother looked somewhat pained. After all, years of matchmaking, of throwing Perfect Patsy in Alec’s path, had failed.
Alec’s BURR team members were all present and in their element. Informal, wet and wind-swept suited them. Her brother Quinn had proved unreachable, but Logan was here. Barefoot and in his shirtsleeves, she was reminded of the boy he’d been when his gypsy mother had first dropped him off on their doorstep. Wild and carefree. A side of himself he’d long ago stuffed into a suit and tied off with a starched cravat.
He caught her glance and frowned, shaking his head. But he’d promised. She’d done all he asked and more. Tipping her face upward, she let the wind whip the long, dark locks of her unbound hair about her face and smiled. She’d already accepted a position at Lister Laboratories in London where—despite her brothers—she would find adventure.
~~~~~
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A promise. A poison. A race to save a love balanced on the edge.
On the night they were to elope, a spurned lover returned. A gift, she claimed. But the clockwork contraption unwound a poisonous bloom, sending Lady Emily and Luca, her gypsy love, on a desperate race to reach the cure.
Next up: the opening chapters of The Golden Spider