epilogue

40 years later

Ailsa POV

When I was a mortal, I thought that time moved far too slowly. I thought this was the most horrible way to experience time, the worst way experience the world, just dragging on into the abyss of eternity.

I duck under a tree, breaching the forest to look down at the cliff drop off beneath me.

But now, as an immortal, I can't help feeling like maybe I was wrong.

I can't say that there's anything in my life that I don't enjoy, immortality is a gift after all, a gift that very few are granted, but having so much time, in a way, is a curse in and of itself.

I sigh, taking a small step forward, getting close to the drop off, but not too close. I would survive the fall, but it wouldn't be pleasant.

Because having so much time makes it all pass so fast that I feel like the world is spinning around me and I'm just sitting in one place.

Everything is a whirlwind. A beautiful, crazy magical, whirlwind, and I wouldn't trade anything for it. I've just come to realize the cons of such a life.

Staring at the moon, I pray that I will never take time for granted ever again.

I sit down, looking over the land as I sit on a rock outcropping, pondering my wonderful existence, and everything that comes with it.

"Mind if I join you?" It's been years now, and I would recognize that voice anywhere. After all, I hear it every day, even in my dreams, whether it be the most wonderful dreams, or my worst nightmares. Nightmares of losing him.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect anything less." I peek over my shoulder at Fraser, my blonde hair swinging like a curtain.

He's standing in the moonlight, looking far too handsome with the white light casting shadows across his face, making the sharp panes of his cheeks and jaw look dangerously sharp, harsh.

"Although, I don't know why you ask, because even if I were to say no, you would still find yourself next to me."

My words have him chuckling when he comes to sit by me, throwing an arm around my shoulders, and remaining silent for a while as we look out together at the land below.

"You know," He starts not looking at me as he speaks. "This never does seem to get old."

I lean into him, a rueful smile growing on my lips.

"It is a beautiful view." I agree, loving the way that the land rolls and the plants sway with the gentle night wind.

Not to mention the moon's glow aids us strength. That's a beauty of its own kind.

He laughs again, shaking his head, and dislodging my own from his shoulder.

"I will admit it is beautiful, but that's not exactly what I was talking about."

He turns to look down at me, an admiring look in his dark eyes.

"I meant being with you. I fear I'll never become sick of it, and so you will have to put up with me longer yet."

I heave a massive sigh of fake annoyance.

"I've come to the same conclusion recently." I tease, "I suppose I'll just have to learn how to bear it."

There's a quick movement and suddenly I'm pinned to the floor of the forest. Rocks and sticks and dirt digging into my back.

"Oh, you've done it now." He groans in a deep, taunting voice.

I try to contain my giggle, but some of it comes out anyway.

"And what is it that I've done?"

"You've awoken the beast." He growls, and then attacks.

He begins peppering my neck with kisses, and I shove hastitly against his broad shoulders, dislodging him easily, but soon he's back, and instead of his lips, it's his fangs that I now feel pressing into my skin.

I shiver with delight, tilting my head obediently for my mate to offer him better access.

I can feel him grin into my neck when the bushes behind us begin to rustle.

Fraser's body goes as straight as a board, and soon he's rising slightly off of me, his eyes fixed on the nearby tree line.

The breeze brings with it a scent, a scent that makes the both of us smile.

"Mama?" The little voice sniffles, and my three year old son steps out into the moonlight with tears glimmering in his eyes. "Papa?"

Fraser is off me in a second, rushing to his side and scooping Malcolm up into his arms.

"What is it, mo laochain?" He asks lovingly, pushing the mass of dark curls from Mal's forehead as our wee lad continues to take shaky breaths.

I stand swiftly, joining them.

Our child is a mixture of the both of us, which only makes sense, but it never fails to astound me.

Malcolm resembles his Father in most aspects, but his personality is sensitive, like his Mother.

His tender heart is achingly sweet, but often the cause of worry for us both. He keeps us on our toes.

"I didn't know wh...where you went!" He murmurs the sobbed sentence into Fraser's shoulder, clutching at his white shirt that is damp with tears and smeared with dirt from our earlier activities.

Fraser flashes me a knowing smile, and I hide a chastising glare by pressing my lips together, rubbing gentle circles into Malcolm's back.

My mate often encourages me, telling me that I am a good mother no matter how often I feel as if I fall short.

I am always trying my best at this, and that is more than I can say about my own parents.

Both of which are long dead now.

"I'm sorry, my bairn, Mama and Papa were just..." My eyes grab ahold of Fraser, begging him to take over.

"Talking." He supplies easily.

He leans Malcolm back, rubbing away his tears with his thumb as the small boy sits in the crook of his Father's strong arm.

"We were talking about what a beautiful night it is, and how we should take a trip soon."

My brow furrows at that, but Fraser simply winks at me before turning his attention back to our child.

Malcolm sniffles, tugging on Fraser's hair with one hand and rubbing his running nose with the other.

"A trip? A trip to where?" I listen as his voice shifts from sorrow to reluctant excitement. "Like an adventure?"

"Yes! An adventure. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"But where are we going, Papa?" Malcolm becomes impatient. I bite my lip, knowing that I'm the one he got that unfortunate quality from.

I love him to bits nonetheless.

Pressing my face into his warm head of downy brown curls, I inhale and enjoy the slight remnants of his baby smell. It fades every day, and I'll miss it terribly.

Fraser seems to read my mind, because soon he's pulling me to his side by looping an arm around my waist, looking down as he palms the slight swell to my stomach. It's new, barely there, but we're both thrilled.

Malcolm was an accident. A glad accident, but we did not plan for him.

This baby, our second, was due to the immense fever for a bairn we both experienced when Malcolm went from baby to toddler.

It will likely be our last child. Two seems like a good number to me.

Not to mention, I can't ignore the dream that came to me the night that I almost died.

Two boys. One brunette, the other a yellowish blonde.

I now know it had to be a premonition, a promise of what was waiting for me for being patient. A reward for all of the pain and misery I suffered through.

"Why, we're going to visit your mother's clan, of course." Fraser says, and Malcolm's face betrays what I'm feeling. Confusion.

"But, Mama is in our clan." Malcolm is insistent.

Stubborn. That, I'm happy to admit, can be attributed to his lovely Father.

"Yes, but she came from a clan far from here. In fact, that's where we met, isn't it, mo cuishle?"

I grin and nod, pinching one of Mal's ruddy cheeks which always makes him laugh.

My clan is empty now. After I was stolen away and my Father killed, The Ramsay's took my clan into their own. They also tried to take control of our lands, but a certain vampire Laird made certain they didn't.

Apparently, Laird Ramsay is terrified of the legends of demons that stalk the night, and thought better of it. Wouldn't want a demon infested castle, after all.

It's been vacant for decades, and Fraser and his men are the only ones who have been back, to ensure it remains empty. I have yet to brave that trip, more than happy to send them off and stay home in our cottage.

"I wanna go! Wanna see Mama's clan!"

I smile softly at his excitement, holding his small hand in mine and marveling at how far I've come since those days.

There are so many things about being human that I've forgotten, my old life becoming bits and pieces of fragmented memories. All of the lead to Fraser, and then they level out, become brighter.

I might not have a crystal clear remembrance, but I certainly remember the desperation and the loneliness.

Having to face that seems scary, even now. That castle is a ghost holding the most painful past, but I can face anything with these two at my side.

Three, I correct myself, looking down to where my mate's hand remains on my rounded abdomen.

"We will, Mal." Fraser's eyes flick to me, apologetic. "Unless your Mama objects."

"Why does she have to decide?" Malcolm groans, and Fraser and I laugh in unison.

"Well, you see, your mother and I are a team. That's what being mated is all about. We make decisions together. So, her opinion is the most important to me." He reasons gently, tucking a stray curl behind Mal's ear. The little boy has dried river stains down his cheeks.

"Please, Mama, please agree." I see the longing in his innocent face, and I can't help but cave.

"Of course, my baby. We will go see my clan and I'll tell you all about how your Father saved me."

Fraser smiles, squeezing me to him as he stares at me as if I hung the moon itself.

"And how she saved me first."

I'm not crying! You're crying 😭