Cain laughed. The sound was rusty, old, but the laughter built inside him.
Eve blinked, then her eyes widened. “This is what I wanted,” she whispered.
The laughter faded slowly. This is what happiness feels like. No wonder humans went around smiling all the freaking time.
It felt good.
“You are what I want,” he told her. “When I thought that I’d lost you . . .”
No, he didn’t want to go back there. To the hopeless moments. He’d known only fury. Agony. Can’t lose her.
Won’t.
“Don’t ever get hurt again,” he ordered. He didn’t think he could stand it. And any humans around at the time of her pain . . . well, they might not be able to stand it, either.
“I’ll try not to,” she said softly, with a hint of a smile playing around her lips. “But, ah, can you do me a favor, too? Maybe . . . stop dying on me.”
Cain wasn’t sure how many more deaths he could survive. How much more darkness he could take.
Not true.
The knowledge sank inside him. He could die a hundred more times, he knew that. Die and come back—as long as she waited for him. “Stay with me,”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
There was no other place for him. He only wanted to be at her side. Always. He brought her hand to his lips. Kissed her knuckles.
He rose. Pulled her to her feet. He was aware of the darkness, lurking in the back of his mind, but with Eve’s hand in his, that darkness stayed in the background.
There wasn’t any death on the beach. No fear. No rage. Just Eve.
Just . . . hope.
For more.
Her fingers twined with his as they walked toward the ocean. His feet sank into the sand. Eve’s shoulder brushed against his arm.
There would be no more hiding in the shadows. Not for him. But the more he thought about it, the more Cain realized that he didn’t care. He’d find a way to deal with the humans.
He had something better than anonymity. He had life.
He had Eve.
Cain kissed her and the passion stirred once more between them.
How he did love that sweet burn.
Eve.
Finally, he’d found someone who could look past the fire. Someone who wasn’t afraid of the heat. Someone who’d always been meant to be—
Mine.
Just as he’d been meant to be hers.
Together, through fire, through death.
Through life.
EPILOGUE
Humans feared him. That was nothing new. His story filled the televisions. The newspapers. The Internet chat sites.
A phoenix. Myth. Man.
What the hell ever.
He didn’t care what people said. Their gossip and their fears didn’t matter to him.
She mattered.
Cain watched Eve walk toward him. She was coming from their house. The house he’d bought for her. Right on the beach, nestled high so the waves and the storms wouldn’t hurt it.
Their home.
It had been just a few months, but he felt like he’d always been there with her.
Maybe Eve was his real home.
“I’ve found a specialist who works with wolves . . .”
Ah, he could hear the excitement in her voice.
Cain reached for her hand. “You mean werewolves.”
Eve nodded quickly. “She’s been doing genetic research for years. I think—I think she might be able to help Trace.”
Cain didn’t point out that they hadn’t seen the wolf since the explosion. His body had never been recovered. Not that much would have been left for recovery . . .
But Eve had hope. And if she believed the guy was alive, then he would believe, too.
“We can talk to her and find a cure.” She was so certain.
And sexy. His lips skimmed over hers. “When do we leave?” He knew Eve. Always fighting. Always pushing.
That was fine—as long as she remembered who was by her side.
Her smile lit up her face. “I’ve already booked the plane tickets.”
Of course she had.
“This will work,” she told him, “Trust me.”
He did trust her. He’d let her reveal his full story to the press. He’d worked with the FBI, for her. He’d bled, he’d died—all for her.
Trust? That was the least he’d given to her.
She turned away, pulling his hand so that he had no choice but to follow her. Always.
“Oh, and I’m pregnant . . .” she tossed back at him in a rush.
For a minute there, Cain wondered if his heart had stopped.
Eve glanced back. A flicker of worry had her eyes scanning his face. “I thought . . . um, you’re still good with that plan, right?”
That plan. Marrying her. Having a home. Having a family.
“I know it’s sooner than we’d thought,” she said, the words coming fast, the way they always did when she was nervous, “and I didn’t expect—but I’m glad and I hope you—”
Cain kissed her. Her lips were open, so perfect, and his mouth pressed against her.
This is happiness.
The thought whispered through his mind. The same thought he’d had months before, right on the same beach.
Then another followed it, a vow he’d made to himself.
I will be better.
He’d protect the child, cherish him or her . . . just as much as he cherished Eve.
In the distance, Cain heard the faintest echo of a wolf’s howl. His head lifted.
“Cain?” Eve questioned softly. “Your eyes . . .”
He knew the fire lit them. But the fire wasn’t just about rage. Not anymore. He smiled at her and said, “I’m good with the plan.”
More than good. The plan was pretty f**king perfect to him.
Eve hugged him, squeezing tight.
Over her shoulder, he stared off into the distance. The howl was gone. Pulled away by the crash of the surf. But he’d heard it, and Cain knew what would make the perfect wedding gift for his bride.
He just had to track that wolf. . . maybe he’d call in a blood debt for that job. That vamp Ryder did still owe him.
Cain smiled . . . and began to plan.