Epilogue 2: White Forest Ball (Cherish)

I gasped at the sight of our intruder. Cillian, my beautiful boy, had somehow transformed into a powerful, charismatic man, his white shirt open at the top showing the sculpted chest he inherited from his father.

His coppery red hair had an even fierier tone than Ivan’s, almost sheer red, whilst his eyes had eventually turned blue like my own, despite starting green. He had a strong, masculine jaw and his figure had developed over the past year. He had trained like a beast with Kharkov and Jackson, as if preparing for his mate by getting into perfect shape.

“Are we ready to do this parade then?” he grumbled, fiddling with his cufflink, the rasping depth of his manly voice still making me wistful even after years of it breaking.

“How has a white shirt made you look this grown up,” I said softly, adjusting the collar of his shirt whilst he towered over me and his father. The squidgy faced little boy who hid behind my skirts clutching stacks of buns he had stolen from Martha was no m