Epilogue

As I knelt by Saul’s grave, overlooking the rolling green hills that surrounded the small town of Hollow Creek, my heart swelled with bittersweet emotions. In my hands was a bouquet of the most vibrant, fragrant flowers from my own garden. Their petals were like velvet, their colors akin to the brilliant, bleeding sunset across the horizon of the endless sky.

“Hey, Saul,” I breathed, my voice soft and reverent, echoing through the still air. The graveyard was silent, empty save for me and my memories. “I thought I’d bring you some more flowers. Got some beautiful ones this year. Hydrangeas, petunias, some roses of course from my garden, just for you.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I remembered the man who had given me so much, the man who’d treated me like a daughter when I had no one else. Saul had been my guiding light, my protector, my friend in a world that felt impossibly dark. And I’d let him down so terribly. His killer’s blood was on my hands, and I could never apologize, never truly make amends.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” I continued, my voice wobbling slightly. “About everything that’s happened since you left. All the things I’ve done, the people I’ve become—you’d shake your head, wouldn’t you?”

A wry smile graced my lips as I imagined the disapproval that would have creased his gentle face, the twinkle of humor that would have sparkled in his wise eyes. Saul, the man who had taught me everything, who’d helped me pick up the broken pieces of my life and mold them into a whole new reality.

“It’s been chaotic,” I confessed, my voice thick with emotion, “and sometimes beautiful. But nothing has been easy. Saul, there’s a lot I wish I could tell you about. Things I’ve learned, moments of love and pain and blood. About the men I share my life with, my boys. But it’s complicated, impossible to explain in words. You’d have to feel it, live it, to understand.”

Hadrian, so damaged and complex and yet fiercely protective of me, my possessive FBI agent. Orpheus, intoxicatingly beautiful and with a tumultuous past, a creature of the night who somehow made my days brighter. Two men who loved me, consumed by me in body and soul, each willing to do whatever it took to keep me safe. To possess me completely.

“Maybe I’ll be able to tell you all about it someday,” I mused, placing the flowers tenderly upon his grave. “Not now, not ever, maybe. But maybe. But I wanted you to know one thing right now, Saul. I’m happy.”

It wasn’t a lie, not entirely. Despite everything that had happened, despite the darkness that still clung to me, I was content. No, more than that, I was happy. I had Hadrian and Orpheus by my side, two very different but equally irresistible men who would cross any line, break any rule, just to see me smile.

My happiness didn’t erase the past, erase the countless lives that I’d taken. I was a serial killer, irrevocably so, my hands forever stained with the blood of those who’d done others wrong. Saul himself was a constant reminder of my duality, of the darkness that lurked just beneath the surface.

“I love them,” I whispered into the growing dusk, the sky now having fully surrendered to the night, “both of them. And whatever happens from here, wherever it takes us—me, Orpheus, Hadrian—I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Silence enveloped me; the only sound was the gentle chirping of crickets in the distance. I closed my eyes, inhaling the floral fragrance that permeated the air. Peace descended upon me, a sense of calm that had been so elusive before.

It was time to let go, I realized, to let go of the guilt, of the grief, of the endless torment. To bury it here, beside the man who had been the bedrock of my life.

“I’m gonna miss you, Saul,” I said softly to the wind. “But I won’t forget you, ever. Our past will always be a part of me, a part of us. It’s time for me to mourn, to release you. To let you live on in my memories, letting me follow the happiness that I’ve finally found.”

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving Saul and his grave to finally rest in quiet solitude. The darkness surrounded me, but it no longer felt suffocating, no longer felt oppressive.

I knew that Hadrian and Orpheus were waiting for me. Waiting to love me, to hold me, to share my bed and my life and my body. I was theirs; they were mine. That was my new reality, my newfound truth.

Saul, my guardian angel, would always be with me, even though I moved on with my life, with the men who loved me. I was ready for the future, for whatever it might bring.

“See you on the other side, Saul,” I whispered into the void, a farewell and a promise intertwined.