Page 44 of Always A Villain (Revenge Duet #2)

“ A xe, I’m fine,” I say for the third time, swatting at his hand as he presses gently against my bump. “I’m not due for another month.”

He doesn’t answer. Just narrows his eyes.

“Gear’s packed,” Griffen announces as he strolls into the kitchen, dropping four duffel bags onto the floor. “Got the med kits, the sat phone, bear spray—though Axe said he’s the only predator on this trip, so I don’t know why we bothered.”

“We had a deal,” I warn, pointing a spatula at them. “No Sovereign-style training until Lucas is eight.” I know he’s hiding more than camping gear in those bags.

“It’s not training. It’s survival,” Griffen says simply with a shrug. “We’re going camping, doll. There are wolves out there.”

“You two are the wolves out there.” I glare between them. “He’s four. Not fourteen. No tactical suits. No knives in his lunchbox. And no, Griffen, I’m still not letting you microchip him.”

“That was a joke—” Griffen starts.

“It wasn’t,” Axe deadpans.

“I stand by it,” Griffen adds.

“Uncle Griffen!” Lucas’s voice pierces through the back-and-forth as he barrels into the room, Rosa trailing behind him with a juice box and the expression of a woman one fruit snack away from losing it. “Daddy, are we leaving yet?!”

Axe scoops him up mid-run. “Just saying bye to Mommy.”

Lucas giggles, kicking his little boots. “I got my flashlight and my throwing stars!”

“You’re not bringing the throwing stars,” I say, reaching out for him. “Give Mommy a kiss before you go become a wildling.”

Lucas plants a sticky kiss on my cheek and throws his arms around my neck.

I pull back and whisper, “If Uncle Griffen gives you any problems, tell Kane.”

From his spot in the corner, Kane’s ears perk up at his name. He still doesn’t like Griffen—probably never will—but he tolerates him enough not to bite him anymore. Usually.

“Don’t listen to your mother,” Griffen calls out, ignoring the low growl that follows. “She’s hormonal.”

I give him a slow blink. “You want to get kicked in the balls before your camping trip, or…?”

Axe presses a kiss to my temple. “Call me the minute anything feels off. I mean it, Rory.”

“I will. I promise. Go. Enjoy yourself. Try to relax. Just…don’t teach him how to hotwire a car this time.”

“He needs to know these things,” Griffen mutters.

“He’s four ,” I remind them. “And I still haven’t forgiven you for blowing up the shed.”

“That was an educational moment,” Griffen says.

“You taught him how to make a pipe bomb.”

“He’s a very advanced four-year-old,” he says with pride.

“I swear to god?—”

“We’ll behave,” Axe cuts in, shooting Griffen a look that says behave or die . He sets Lucas down and whistles for Kane, who stalks out of the room like this is the last place he wants to be.

“Bye, Mommy! Bye, Rosy!” Lucas waves, practically vibrating with excitement. “I’m gonna be like Daddy and Uncle Griffen when I get big!”

Axe leans down and whispers something in Lucas’s ear before lifting him into the truck. Whatever he says makes our son’s eyes light up like fireworks. The truck door slams, the engine roars to life, and just like that, my house is quiet.

Too quiet.

Rosa pats my shoulder. “I’ll get you some tea.”

Watching the taillights disappear down the driveway, I nod.

Later that night, after the baby kicks calm and I finally settle into bed, I roll over and stare at the empty spot beside me. I miss him. Every time he leaves, no matter how immortal he says he is, some part of me feels like I can’t breathe until he’s back .

But this life—the peace, the laughter, the family we’ve built—it’s everything we fought for.

I glance at the framed photo on the nightstand. Lucas, grinning with a black eye and a chocolate mustache, holding a sign that reads “First Day of Preschool.” The kid’s trouble, top to bottom. Smart as hell. Brave. Too brave. And he’s got Axe’s eyes.

Axe never thought he’d make it here—to fatherhood, to contentment. To us .

Lucas Alexander Hawthorne. Named after the only person Axe ever called a brother.

Axe carries the past with him, always will. But watching him be a father, seeing the way he looks at our son like he’s the whole goddamn world—it heals things in both of us.

He’s still the Reaper. Still ruthless. Still dangerous.

But he’s also the man who holds my belly at night and hums our unborn daughter made-up lullabies off-key. The man who teaches Lucas to ride a bike, only to threaten to break it when Griffen turns it into a dirt racer with nitrous.

He’s the villain who got his happy ending.

And I’m the siren who never stopped loving the monster under the mask.

In a week, they’ll come back muddy, exhausted, probably missing half the gear. Kane will bite Griffen, Lucas will be thrilled, and Axe will hold me like the world starts and ends in my arms.

And the moment I feel his hands on me again, I’ll know—we made it.

We survived.

We won .

And I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. Not even peace. Because this is peace—raw, real, chaotic, and ours.

Forever.

The End.