Page 12 of Burning Love (The Lost World #5)

EPILOGUE

FIVE YEARS LATER

L aughter rang out light and carefree, a melody of resilience. Children raced past Sophia, their bare feet kicking up golden dust as they weaved between the wooden and stone homes, their voices rising in playful shouts. A trio of boys argued over the rules of some game, while a girl with matted hair attempted a daring backflip, landing in a crumpled heap of giggles. Their joy was unburdened, untouched by the darkness their parents had known not too long ago.

The scent of roasted vegetables and simmering stew drifted from the kitchen house, rich and savory as it curled through the air. Someone had set wildflowers in a clay jar by the well—yellow sunbursts of goldenrod and delicate blue cornflowers, their petals swaying in the breeze.

God, that well took us months to dig. Who would have thought that would be a skill I’d have to learn?

Somewhere in the distance, a homemade wind chime clinked softly, a delicate melody threading through the low murmur of Sophia’s surroundings. She inhaled deeply, savoring the moment. She sometimes found it hard to believe that she now associated the smell of cooking with comfort again, rather than just survival. The sound of knives chopping against wooden boards and the occasional burst of laughter from the kitchen only reinforced the true sense of peace they had all managed to create here.

She strolled over to the kitchen house and opened the door. She found Olwen hunched over a pot, stirring the thick stew with practiced ease. The older woman glanced up, her sharp blue eyes softening. “Sophia,” she greeted. “You checking up on me, or are you just hungry?”

Sophia smirked, leaning against the edge of the table. “A little of both, I guess. It smells amazing, but the way. Olwen, what would we do without you and your stew-making abilities?”

Olwen chuckled, shaking her head. “You say that now, but wait until you taste it. I had to improvise with the seasoning—gotta stretch what we have left. The wild garlic will be sprouting soon enough, though! And then it’s a whole new ball game, let me tell you!”

Sophia reached out and plucked a slice of roasted squash from a nearby plate, popping it into her mouth before Olwen could swat her hand away. The sweetness of it melted on her tongue, balanced by the charred edges. “If the stew is half as good as this, we’ll be just fine. And you’re so right! I remember the wild garlic last year! I can’t wait.”

Olwen huffed but looked pleased. “You keep sweet-talking me like that, and I might set aside an extra bowl for you.”

Sophia grinned, watching as a few chickens darted past the door. She wondered how they’d escaped again, but decided she’d leave someone else to deal with it this time. Chickens were supposed to be stupid birds, weren’t they? But the ones they bred here seemed to be geniuses. A few years ago, a scene like this would have been impossible. Now, it was their reality. Hard-won, but real.

She glanced back at Olwen, lowering her voice. “How’s the food supply holding up?”

Olwen’s expression shifted, her stirring slowing. “Could be worse,” she admitted. “Could be a hell of a lot better, too. But I’m not going to complain. Complaining doesn’t do any of us any good. The last foraging team brought in a decent enough haul, but we’ll need another run before the month is out.

Sophia nodded, already calculating. “I think I’ll go with them next time.”

Olwen shot her a look. “No, young lady. You’ve got enough on your plate. Let someone else do their fair share of the hard work.”

Sophia only smiled, rolling another piece of roasted squash between her fingers. “What kind of person would I be if I didn’t pull my weight?”

Olwen sighed, shaking her head, but there was warmth in her voice when she said, “A smart one.”

“You remind me of someone. But a much nicer version. No, that’s not true. You’re nothing like her. We had a cook in the last place, and she… well, never mind. Thank you for being you.”

“Really? What a nice thing to say! You’re welcome, honey! Some things, some people, are better left in the past.”

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of the stew through the air, mingling with the golden hues of the setting sun. Sophia let herself soak it in—the food, the comfort, the quiet hum of this new life.

It wasn’t perfect. But it was theirs. And for now, this is what they had.

Near the wood workshop, the rhythmic clang of metal against logs rang out, sparks dancing like fireflies in the dimming light. A group of settlers gathered around the woodpile, trading quiet words as they watched the blade of the axe smash into the pine trunk. Closer to the center of the village (for Sophia often thought of it as a village), a group of youngsters, both male and female, sat on a wooden bench, sewing patches onto well-worn jackets, their fingers moving with efficiency.

Above it all, the first stars flickered to life, tiny pinpricks against the darkening sky, as if the universe itself was watching over this fragile, hard-won peace.

Sophia made her way over to their small cabin and leaned against the porch railing, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. She let her gaze sweep over the village, drinking in the simple beauty of it.

It still amazed her, even after all these years, how much had changed. How much they had built. She remembered when she and Alex had first arrived, and this place had been nothing more than a handful of survivors clinging onto some semblance of hope, barely scraping by. Back then, fear had ruled their days—rationing supplies, reinforcing weak points in the walls, planning escape routes they prayed they’d never have to use. The undead had been an ever-present threat, their moans drifting through the trees at night.

Now, the settlement stood firm, not just surviving but thriving. Scouts patrolled the perimeter at all hours, their watchful eyes ensuring nothing slipped through unnoticed. They had figured out patterns, learned how to bait the dead away and how to cull them when necessary. The old world’s technology was mostly useless now. Still, ingenuity had kept them alive—tripwire alarms, trenches lined with sharpened stakes, and torches that burned with thick, acrid smoke, which the undead seemed always to avoid.

Even more delicate decisions—whom to let in and whom to turn away—had become part of their survival. They had rules now. The rules weren’t too harsh. This was far from a military operation. But everyone who arrived at their gates was questioned and searched. Newcomers had to earn their place, to prove they were more than just mouths to feed. But none of them here were heartless. She and Alex had fought to ensure that.

They had learned how to manage their resources and make this land yield what they needed. They had a working water system, thanks to the well they’d dug deep, and a network of rain collectors that fed into their filtration setup. The fields beyond the main wall grew crops in neat rows—corn, potatoes, beans, anything hardy enough to withstand the unpredictable weather. Their livestock pens were small but well-maintained, holding goats and chickens that provided milk and eggs. The solar panels they salvaged from a long-abandoned facility sometimes held enough charge to power essential parts of the settlement, including lights in the medical room, radio equipment that rarely worked, and the grain mill.

It wasn’t perfect. They still faced shortages. But when she looked at the village lined with little homes, when she saw children playing without fear, when her family’s bellies were full, she knew they had done something right.

She exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the railing as she let the moment sink in. Five years ago, she wouldn’t have believed this future was possible. Five years ago, she hadn’t even been sure she’d ever live to see something like this.

She didn’t need to turn around to know Alex was there.

The shift of footsteps on the wooden planks, the barely there inhale, before a soft, familiar presence settled at her back. Then warmth—Alex’s arms wrapped around her waist, the solid press of her body against Sophia’s spine.

“Long day?” Alex murmured, her lips brushing against the shell of Sophia’s ear.

Sophia sighed, leaning into the embrace. “Not bad. Just exhausting. The kids were relentless today. You should’ve seen Lily trying to teach them spins. She nearly took out half the class.”

Alex chuckled, a low, affectionate laugh. “She’s got your talent. And your fire.”

“She’s stubborn, you mean,” Sophia said, tilting her head slightly to meet Alex’s gaze.

Alex smirked. “Same thing. Right?”

Sophia huffed, shaking her head. She turned in Alex’s arms, looping her hands behind her wife’s neck. “I reckon you like a little fire, though.”

A slow, lazy smile spread across Alex’s lips. “Damn right, I do.”

Their foreheads touched, the world narrowing to just the two of them. For so long, their love had been a fragile thing—something easily lost, hard to hold onto. But now, with Alex’s hands resting at her hips, it felt solid. Unshakable.

Sophia traced her fingers along Alex’s jaw, brushing over the faint scar just beneath her chin—a reminder of battles fought, of sacrifices made. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

Alex nodded. “Jeez. Understatement of the decade, babe. I’m so glad I found you.”

A slight tug at Sophia’s skirt broke the moment.

“Mama?”

The soft voice of Lily. A young girl who arrived at camp without anyone had become their adopted daughter.

“Honey! Did you eat?”

“Yes! Mummy fed me. Beans on toast! Yummy!”

“Beans on toast, huh? That’s my English influence if ever I saw it! I’m so proud of you both.”

Lily stood there, barefoot and bright-eyed, her curls wild from the wind. “You said you’d tell me a story before bed.”

Sophia smiled, crouching to tuck a stray curl behind Lily’s ear. “I did, didn’t I?”

Alex ruffled the little girl’s hair, grinning. “How about we both tell you one?”

Lily gasped dramatically, as if this were the most exciting thing in the world. “Two stories?!”

“Two people telling it,” Sophia corrected, tapping her daughter’s nose. “But just the one story.”

Lily giggled, grabbing their hands and tugging them inside. Their home was small, but full of books they’d salvaged on their travels, stacked in every available corner. Wildflowers rested in mason jars, and the scent of lavender lingered in the air from the homemade beeswax candles Sophia had lit earlier.

Lily clambered onto the bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin with a practiced routine. “Tell me the one about the brave warrior and the lost queen.”

Sophia and Alex exchanged a glance.

“That’s our story,” Alex murmured.

Lily grinned knowingly. “I know! I know! It’s my absolute favorite! The story of when you were little!”

“Well, we weren’t that little!” Sophia giggled.

Sophia lay beside their daughter, pulling her close. “Once upon a time, in a world much different from this one, a warrior met a queen who had forgotten how to dance…”

Alex settled on the other side, their voices weaving together in the telling. It was a story Lily had heard countless times, but she never tired of it. And neither did they.

By the time the last words were spoken, Lily’s breathing had evened out, her tiny body curled between them.

Sophia pressed a soft kiss to her daughter’s forehead, then met Alex’s gaze over the sleeping child.

“Come on,” Alex whispered, reaching for Sophia’s hand. “Let’s go to bed.”

The cabin was quiet as they moved through the dark, the only sounds the creak of the floorboards.

Sophia followed Alex into their bedroom, closing the door behind them. The moment the latch clicked into place, Alex turned, pressing her body against Sophia’s, trapping her against the door.

The kiss that followed was slow at first, then deepened, hunger simmering beneath the surface.

Sophia gasped as Alex’s fingers traced up her sides, slipping beneath the thin fabric of her shirt. “Someone’s impatient.”

Alex’s mouth brushed along the curve of her jaw. “Just the thought of you has been driving me crazy all day.”

Sophia’s breath hitched. “Oh?”

“The way you move when you walk, the way you smile when you’re out there talking to people…” Alex nipped lightly at her collarbone, her voice rough with need. “It wrecks me.”

Sophia shivered, tilting her head to grant Alex more access. “Then do something about it.”

A low growl rumbled from Alex’s throat before she lifted Sophia effortlessly, her strong arms tightening as if she would never let go. Sophia gasped, caught between surprise and anticipation, her fingers gripping Alex’s shoulders as their bodies pressed together.

The bed met them in a tangle of limbs, sheets twisting beneath them as they moved—urgent, hungry, aching for more. Alex’s hands skimmed up Sophia’s sides, pushing her shirt higher, fingertips grazing the bare skin beneath. A teasing touch, a silent promise.

Sophia arched as Alex’s mouth found her throat, lips brushing, biting, her breath hot against her pulse. Every kiss sent a ripple of heat through her, coiling low in her belly, tightening with need.

“Tell me what you want,” Alex murmured, her voice rough with restraint, her fingers already tracing lower, over the waistband of Sophia’s pants.

Sophia shivered, already undone by the anticipation, by the way Alex’s body hovered over hers, controlling, commanding. “You,” she whispered. “Everything. I want to feel your fingers deep inside me. I want your mouth on my nipples. I want you to fuck me like only you know how, Alex.”

Alex exhaled sharply, her control snapping. With deliberate movements, she stripped Sophia bare, taking in every inch of her with dark, hooded eyes. The heat in her gaze was enough to set Sophia ablaze.

Alex kissed her way down, slow, torturous, lips and tongue exploring, teasing, claiming. Her breath ghosted over Sophia’s abdomen before she trailed lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

Sophia writhed, her breath coming in shallow, gasping breaths. “Alex?—”

“Patience,” Alex murmured against her skin, tracing her tongue in a languid line that had Sophia arching her back off the bed. “I want to take my time.”

But patience was impossible. The tension between them built like a storm, desire tightening, coiling, a desperate ache neither of them could hold back for long.

Sophia’s hands found purchase in Alex’s hair, tugging her closer, her voice breaking on a moan as Alex’s mouth finally met her where she needed it most. The first flick of her tongue against her clitoris sent a shockwave through her, pleasure spiraling, unraveling her inch by inch.

Alex’s touch was both reverent and possessive, her fingers splayed against Sophia’s trembling thighs, holding her open as if she were something to be worshiped. Her tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes at first, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves with feather-light flicks before pressing more firmly, the wet heat of her mouth sending jolts of pleasure through Sophia’s core. She alternated between long, languid licks and quick, insistent circles, her breath warm against slick, sensitive flesh.

Sophia’s fingers clenched the sheets, her knuckles white as tension coiled tight inside her, a fire licking up her spine, white-hot and unbearable. Her hips lifted instinctively, seeking more, but Alex’s firm grip anchored her down, keeping her exactly where she wanted. The pleasure mounted with every stroke, every teasing pull of Alex’s lips, building into something dizzying, something inevitable.

“Come for me,” Alex murmured, her voice dark and commanding against the slick heat of Sophia’s skin. Without hesitation, she slipped two fingers inside her, the stretch effortless, the glide slick and deep. She curled them just right, pressing insistently against the spongy spot that sent Sophia reeling, her breath stuttering into a sharp cry. The rhythmic thrust of Alex’s fingers matched the relentless pull of her mouth, her tongue lapping hungrily as she sucked, sending waves of electric pleasure surging through Sophia’s body.

Her thighs quivered, her stomach tightened, every muscle locking as the pleasure sharpened to an unbearable peak. The pressure swelled, flooding her senses, until there was nothing left but the inevitable collapse into release, her body arching as she shattered beneath Alex’s relentless devotion.

Her release crashed over her in waves, her body trembling beneath Alex’s relentless touch. She gasped, moaned, fingers tightening in Alex’s hair as the pleasure consumed her entirely.

But Alex wasn’t done. She dragged her lips back up Sophia’s body, kissing away the aftershocks, swallowing her soft, breathless cries.

Sophia barely had time to recover before Alex pressed her down, their bodies aligning perfectly, heat against heat, slick and desperate. She reached between them, guiding Alex’s fingers inside her, her moan swallowed by Alex’s lips as they moved together, pushing, pulling, giving, taking.

The friction, the connection—it was almost too much.

Sophia’s nails raked down Alex’s back as the pleasure built again, sharp and unstoppable. Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, breathless, fevered, until Sophia was once more spiraling, this time taking Alex with her.

They broke apart only to come back together, gasping, clinging, lost in the wreckage of pleasure.

When it was over, they lay tangled in each other, skin damp, hearts racing.

Alex pressed a lazy kiss to Sophia’s shoulder, fingers tracing nonsense patterns over her hip.

“Promise me something,” Sophia murmured, still breathless.

Alex hummed, pressing another kiss to the hollow of her throat. “Anything.”

“No matter what happens—no matter how hard things get—we fight for this. For us.”

Alex lifted her head, meeting Sophia’s gaze, her expression softer now, but no less intense.

“Always, because I will love you, forever.” she vowed.

“And I love you, you big softie,” Sophia whispered.

Outside, the night was still, but never silent. The world beyond their walls was dangerous, but in moments like this, it almost felt distant, as if they existed in a space untouched by ruin.

This was a life they would never let go.

Sophia nestled closer, her hand splayed over Alex’s ribs, feeling the steady thrum of her heartbeat. In the quiet, her mind drifted—to the child sleeping just a room away, their daughter, their miracle. She thought of the future they were carving out for her, of the lessons they would teach her, of the world they hoped to rebuild, if only piece by piece.

One day, it might be safer.

One day, they might be able to share the truth.

Sophia was immune. The infection had once tried to take hold of her, sinking its teeth into her flesh, flooding her veins with death. But it had never claimed her. Her body had resisted, had fought back, had refused to succumb.

Only a handful of people knew—Alex, of course, and a few trusted others. It was a secret they guarded fiercely because knowledge like that could turn their lives upside down. It could turn Sophia into a target again.

But maybe, when the world was ready—when their child was older, when they were confident it wouldn’t cost them everything—they could share what they knew. They could help others. Perhaps, just perhaps, Sophia’s blood could be the key to something greater than mere survival.

Alex sighed contentedly, her lips brushing over Sophia’s forehead, pulling her from her thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

Sophia hesitated, then smiled. “The future.”

“We have one now. Because of you.”

“Because of us.”