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Epilogue

Janet Glassdon

I watched Jack slumped over in his chair, a crimson Rorschach painting at his feet, through the pane of glass separating my office from the interrogation room we’d left him in.

He had been surprisingly difficult to injure, and nothing we did loosened his tongue.

What little I knew of fairies had me questioning their methods.

Morgan’s truth magic hadn’t rattled one secret from his lips.

When the knife I’d thrown landed its mark in his thigh, he hadn’t flinched. Shock. It was the only explanation. Especially after I saw how well he could bleed. I’d give him a few more hours, then I’d go back to work. Eventually, everyone talked.

“Janet.”

My gaze swiveled from the prisoner to my reason for living, and warmth bloomed in my chest. “Morgan.” Her eyes sparkled in the false light, contrasting beautifully against porcelain skin. I could stare at those eyes forever.

She reached me in three strides and cupped my chin, teeth tugging my lower lip before her tongue found mine. Her taste was cinnamon and fire and utterly intoxicating. Her roving fingers trailed my neck, tracing the length of my body and landing possessively between my legs.

Her grip tightened, tugging me closer, and our kiss deepened as I ran my fingers through golden curls.

A breathy moan escaped her, igniting a flame between my thighs, and I walked her backward, pressing her against the table in my office, and lifted her by the hips to sit atop it.

Her fingers stroked between my thighs, and I grinned around her mouth, leaning her back until she was flat atop the desk as I climbed up, wedging a knee between her legs.

“Hi. Don’t mind me. Two ladies. Hot.”

I slid off the desk, spinning around in disbelief.

Jack was sitting up on the other side of the glass, wide awake as though I hadn’t just given him the beating of his life.

One eye had swelled shut, and his lip was split wide.

Bruises were already forming along his ribcage.

We had long since discarded the shirt. I liked to see my masterpieces.

I glanced over my shoulder at Morgan. “I have to work, baby.”

Her swollen pink lips formed a pout, and I longed to turn around and finish what we started, but we had a rebel insurrection to stop. There was no rest for the wicked.

The story continues in book 2—coming late 2025.