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“You are not worthy to be one of my children,”the Titan continued.“None of you are. You will not hear from me again.”

The light bled from its eyes and mouth and into its skin. It pulsed, light cracking through its skin until the being that was once Marigold dissolved into a flurry of light.

Wick covered his and Briar’s eyes with his wing. By the time the light faded, Marigold was nothing but motes of light fading into the trees.

Briar reached up to touch a dying speck of light. As soon as it touched her finger, it vanished.

Briar rubbed her fingers together. The scent of grief clung to her, thick and heady.

“Briar,” Wick tried. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I am sorry.”

Briar moved like she was going to shrug him off. Instead, she reached up and snapped the amulet off its chain.

“Do we trust it?” she asked. “The Titan?”

“I do not think we have a choice,” Wick admitted.

They stared at the amulet sitting in Briar’s hand. It was so close to splitting in two. The barest hint of pressure would do it.

“Well,” Briar said. “Here goes nothing.”

Wick held out his hand. Briar placed her hand inside his. They closed their fingers, Wick’s pressing against Briar’s until he felt the amulet split in two.

Light burst out of the shattered amulet, flooding straight into Wick.

Wick gasped, the breath punched out of him. He fell to his knees as it rolled through him, cold and cleansing. Ice flooded through his skull, all the way to the ends of his claw tips and back to circle his heart.

Then itclenched.

When Wick came to, he was lying on his back in the grass. Briar was kneeling over him, stroking his face.

“Hi,” she croaked, her eyes wet. “How are we feeling? Still wanting to rip the flesh from my bones?”

Wick shook his head. He felt… clear. There were no embers left in him. The ice had frozen the burning frenzy out of him for good.

“It is gone,” he said, hardly daring to believe it.

Briar broke into a grin. She was half-crying, haloed by morning light, and the most beautiful thing Wick had ever seen.

He touched her cheek. “You gave up your coin.”

Briar frowned, like she did not know what he meant. Then her expression cleared. She laughed, disbelievingly, and dropped her forehead against his.

“You broke your nature for me,” she said. “It was the least I could do for my gentleman monster.”

With that, she wiped the blood away from his mouth and kissed him. She tasted like every morning for the rest of Wick’s long life.

Eighty-Seven Years Later

Briar spent the afternoon doing her favorite post-lunch activity:

Taking all four ridges of her Skullstalker husband’s cock.

Briar twisted to wink at him, her cheek pressing into the deer fur that lined their nest. “Is that all you’ve got, big boy?”

Wick growled a laugh, his hips working hard. He looked beautiful like this, framed in the afternoon light streaming through the cottage window. Briar let herself look for a moment longer before a particularly deep thrust made her eyes flutter shut.

He was curled over her, pressing her face into the furs while he fucked her from behind. It was where they often ended up. Briar would begin by riding him, then tease him until he couldn’t take it anymore. Then he would take charge, folding her into whatever position he wished and pounding her until he came.