Total pages in book: 193
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
His abs twitch from my touch, and then he presses forward when his mind shifts gears before he remembers where we are. Thorin then blows out a harsh breath and shakes his head. “Seth’s going to lose his shit.”
“Where is he?” I ask as I look around.
“He’s working on something in the bedroom. Come on,” Thorin invites as he takes my hand. “Let me show you.”
The two of them flank me as we head back the way Khalil and I came and toward the stairs that are crafted out of logs sawed in half. Their dedication to every detail nearly brings tears to my eyes again because I know they didn’t really care about the frills but did it all for me anyway.
This time, they had some help, and we pass a few of Papa Poverly’s crew that he brought up with him as well as a handful of locals to help get the job done since we are now sitting on a 14,000-square-foot house.
The three of us travel through a few winding hallways before we reach the master suite at the back of the house. As soon as we walk through the double doors, my jaw drops at the view of Big Bear through the panoramic window behind the massive bed. The house still isn’t furnished yet besides the dining table, lighting fixtures, and the bed.
“Oh my God!” I squeal, startling Seth who hadn’t noticed us come in.
Something falls out of his hand, and he curses as he scoops it up before tossing it on the bed and rushing over. “Sunshine,” he greets with a sigh before crouching to kiss my stomach. “Plums.” He glances up at me with a frown. “What are you doing here?”
I rub my belly with a smile. “What do you mean? The babies and I missed you.”
“Nice try,” he says as he stands and scowls. “You wanted to snoop around, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Now where’s my tour?” I demand eagerly.
“Come on.” Seth takes my hand and shows me around the room before leading me out with Thorin and Khalil, pointing out things and explaining all the rooms we weave in and out of on the second floor and then the first.
There’s a recording and dance studio for me, a boxing one for Khalil as well as a workshop for his woodworking, and a library for Seth and Zeke who like to read—one of the few things besides the group they have in common. Thorin is the only one who doesn’t have a special room for himself because most of his hobbies took him outdoors, but I know somewhere on the property is a detached garage with every piece of sporting equipment known to man.
“The house is beautiful,” I say as we leave the living room with a view of the lake and walk toward the front doors. “Thank you for making it a labor of love.”
For a while it felt like we’d said goodbye to the Cold Peaks forever and that we’d never reclaim our home. But once we learned it didn’t matter where we were, and that the only place we truly belonged was with each other, we realized there was nothing stopping us from coming back. At least, for part of the year.
I’m still the Aurelia George to everyone else.
But first, I’m mom.
Wolf. Songbird.
Goldilocks.
Sunshine.
Princess.
And…theirs. Yup. I even taught Bane how to share.
As we walk toward the front doors that have been thrown open to an unobstructed view of the lake, I can hear and see Nico and Bliss playing outside. I can almost see our future laid out for all of us too.
Their first winter in the wilds.
The snow fights after a storm.
The warm nights cuddled up by the fire.
Teaching Nico and Bliss how to hunt and survive in and out of the wilds and giving them the best of both worlds so they can decide for themselves which one they prefer.
“Now I really can’t wait for the wedding ceremony,” I say and we all have matching smiles as we leave the unfinished cabin.
And now we’ve reached the end of this tempestuous journey. The original concept of this retelling began as a quick and shameless read that would take one of your darkest fantasies and turn up the heat. I should have known I was full of shit when I decided that a great title for this “smutty, casual novella” was The Chrysalis of Aurelia George.
My inspiration comes from the many bodice rippers I grew up reading as a teen hellbent on defying her mother’s rules. The kind with Fabio on the front cover, long hair blowing in the wind while he clutched a busty heroine whose bodice was…well, ripped. In some ways, I still think I achieved my wish of writing one of my own, but I don’t regret for a second letting this world and these characters become more.