A Witch's Scorn- Book I

The Epilogue

Alpha Fallon Lockhart and Luna Emory Evanora's journey hadn't gone by as unseen for this wasn't a story of future events, but one of the past.

The night Fallon revealed the death of his parents to Emory hadn't been her first time hearing it. The news of her impending death due to the Lockhart's curse was indeed scarier said aloud, but that too was nothing new to her. She'd had premonitions many times. They were indeed different versions of the same encounters. There were alternate endings to their love story and she'd just about witnessed them all before ever having met him.

Ultimately, Emory had chosen her own inevitable demise.

Every year since they had turned fifteen, Alexa would beg Emory to join her for Hillwood's Annual Winter Ball. And although she hadn't been sure of him truly being her mate in her dreams, she indeed dreamt of Fallon's strikingly blue eyes and wickedly stubborn attitude.

She'd fallen in love with him with her eyes and soul long before she'd met him. Her heart's desire had become overwhelmingly more powerful than their short future together. She'd saw all of him, the joys and the sorrows, and knew she'd regret never being in his arms. She wished she'd told him of all the things she had known before ever even kissing him. Perhaps one day she would be able to.

Fate has an odd way of working its way out.

Night after night she'd dream of the deepest love she'd ever have. They say when you die in your dreams, you die in real life. And yet, she'd lunge awake, drenched in sweat and panting for air. She'd clutch her mother's opal amulet in her sweaty palms and cast frantic prayers to Hecate for she only ever wanted to meet her mate and live happily ever after. Yet and still a sorcerer's spell is his bond.

Maverick's prophecy would always stand as fate would have it.

No matter how, when, and where she met her mate, her death would be inescapable. What a tragic love story they'd been in.

"You mustn't pull a witch's flower from her gar—."

Fallon huffed, "Last time I checked, this was my home. My garden. My witch."

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Emory brushed a gentle finger atop the petals of the nearby blue irises. She needed to concentrate because she would soon reveal her pregnancy to the pack and she knew they'd be happy for their Luna, however they'd soon be devastated by her death.

Fallon's eyes dripped with tears. The walls, walls that he thought he'd rebuilt in the nick of time to hold him up, to make him strong, collapsed right before his eyes. Salty drops fell from his chin, drenching his bare chest. Perhaps the tears would help wash away the eerie feel of his mate's body that was just against his.

He was trembling. He needed to stop trembling. He pressed his head against the ivory bassinet and it shook from his intractable trembling.

She's gone. They're all gone.

The newborn stirred in the bassinet, the cool Spring air chilled his small hands. The warm arms that had held him only moments before were gone. The thin fabric that swaddled him gave away as he kicked his legs out in search of something reassuring. He couldn't smell his mother's soft scent or hear her frenziedly calm voice anymore. His hearing was instead replaced with stifled sobs. He must've felt the weight of sorrow in the air for his own distressed weeping soon filled the space between him and his father.

The boy's throaty wail was heart rendering so much so that Fallon finally mustered the courage to scoop the pup into his large arms and lightly rock him against his chest. His heartbeat seemed to pause when he realized the fascinating opal amulet that once laid across his mate's neck now hung on a black rope necklace around his own neck. He only briefly wondered why she would leave it with him.

Fallon's heart ached, it did, but he would never forget that moment—that moment with his little boy in his arms. The moment he'd lost his soul mate all while gaining the new love of his life. His son's green eyes were more brilliant than he imagined they would be, his tiny body more delicate than anything he'd ever felt. He felt so light, looked so perfect, and smelled just as divine as Emory. He looked so much like his mother that it brought an unexpected sense of calm over Fallon. For as long as he would live, he would protect their dearest Theodore and his love for him would last until the end of time.

-

All the pain of the moments before melted away at the sweet sound of her baby's cry. Clutching the infant to her sweaty chest, Emory continued her incantation:

"Audi me: Solstitii Temporis Sensvs: ego dabo tibi animam meam? In conspectu mortis aeternae animae immolo amore maritae meorum heres esto. Audi me: Solstitii Temporis Sensvs: ego dabo tibi animam tuam quasi juramento ad arbitrium esse in aeternum, quia in tempus."

Ezekiel's ability to speak with the dead had always come in handy, but with a price. A price Emory had been willing to pay if it meant that her life wouldn't end in death. The identity of the charlatan had been revealed to Ezekiel. It was Juliet, the seemingly nice woman that had befriended Sasha and Alexa. She was but a mere spawn of the devil himself for she was truly Maverick in sheep's clothing. In their home each day, taking note of Emory's lack of concentration, well-being, and attendance—they never stood a chance against Fallon's evil brother.

To die on the twenty-third day of her baby's life had been her initial ominous future. And if it weren't for her brother, she wouldn't have known of such a hymn that would bind her life to that of her mate's in the hereafter—that is, a limbo of some sort. As long as Fallon lived, she would as well and in death they'd be together for their final breaths.

Emory found herself in the center of their garden of blue irises deep in spell-casting. In a trance, the latin words spilled from her lips all while the birthing contractions ransacked her body. She rocked side-to-side and back-and-forth. Attempting to calm her nerves, Fallon hummed and rocked with her. Stroking her thick hair back from her face, he listened intently to the incantation she uttered under her breath.

The wispy cloth of the light pink gown she wore clung to her sweaty pale brown skin. He knew she had become tired and the pain must've become unbearable because as she spoke now the words were shaky and incoherent.

The air around them felt different, but he'd thought it was his nervousness of becoming a father that had thickened the atmosphere. It was in fact Emory's spell shifting them between the realms of life and death—oblivion.

The baby boy's russet colored hair and mesmerizing green eyes had brought them both to tears of joy. Emory had held him in her arms as if it'd be the last time she ever would. She'd never forget how handsome her sweet boy was. And she most certainly would never forget how safe she felt in Fallon's arms.

She slid her pinky into her daughter's open hand and watched as it curled around it, the beautiful baby continued to sleep peacefully. Hecate had truly blessed her, even in death, she would be able to carry on her mate's spawn—their sweet Tessa.

This wouldn't be the end of their love story.