Page 119 of Princess Redeemed

“He looks like you, princess,” Rogan whispers.

He does.Fair skin, thick dark hair.I smile.“With your gorgeous eyes.”

Rogan chuckles softly.“He’ll have your strength.That’s all he needs.”

He’s wrong.He has Rogan’s vigor.My father’s intelligence and cleverness.My mother’s quiet loyalty.And something more—something ancient.He’s a symbol of unity.

Most importantly, he has a heart unburdened by the conflicts that made him possible.A clean slate, untouched by blood feuds and broken vows.

He’s alive.Breathing.Ours.

I named my son Victor William Eric Grant.

Victor for his wolf father, fierce and fearless.

William for his vampire king grandfather, who bore the weight of centuries and still chose redemption.

Eric, meaning eternal ruler, for the power I know he’ll carry with grace and tenacity.

And Grant, not just for what he’s been given, but for what he embodies—unwavering strength, a solid foundation, a force steady enough to hold worlds together.

I close my eyes for a moment, letting it all settle.My father’s final act still echoes in my bones.The look in his eyes when he ended the demon king—love for his daughter, a love I’m not sure I’d ever seen before.

He didn’t die as the tyrant he’d become, but as a father.

For the first time in my life, he chose me over power.Over himself.

And it changed everything.

The world hasn’t caught up yet.There are still councils whispering, families rebuilding, old enemies licking their wounds.But in Rogan’s penthouse at The London, change is already here.It’s in the steady beat of our baby’s heart.In the way Rogan and I hold him like he’s the most fragile thing in the world, even though he will grow up to shake it to its core.

I press a kiss to my son’s head.“You’ll never have to fight to be loved,” I whisper.“You will know how special and perfect you are every day of your life.”

I close my eyes and let the moment settle, the memories rise.I think of Alara, of everything she taught me.The way she saw the truth even when I didn’t.That your blood doesn’t define you.That power without compassion will always rot from the inside.

I think of my grandmother who always loved me unconditionally, even though she knew I was different.

They both believed I was more than my bloodline.

Now I do too.

I am a mother.

A partner.

A woman who faced her own darkness and lived to write something new.

Love can triumph over fate.Rogan showed me that.Alara reminded me.And this little boy in my arms proves it every time he breathes.

Because love—true love—isn’t afraid of fate.

It faces it.Shatters it.Rewrites it.

In the silence, I hear my father’s last words.

You’re free now, Hannah.

And for the first time, I truly believe it.

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