King stomps over to Aspen. “Is this true?”
Aspen, not at all intimidated by his attitude, slips her hand into her dress pocket and pulls out a big, shiny ring.
“We did it last week.” She slides the ring onto her finger, then uses her left hand to pat King’s chest. “You can stop worrying about me now. I promise I’m happy.”
King heaves out a loud exhale, then pulls her into a hug.
Rob is grinning when he stands, and he holds his arms out for a hug next.
King rolls his eyes, then embraces the other man, but when he lets go, he punches Rob in the shoulder. Hard. “Don’t fuck this up.”
Cassie
The music has ended, and the couples of The Alliance are all lounged around King’s living room, and I feel like I could carry the whole world if I wanted to.
Hans is standing across the room from me, talking with Nero. And I can’t help but be drawn to the silver band on his left hand. He looks so good marked as mine.
I look down at the matching band on my hand.
Hans wanted to get me diamonds, but I wanted us to match. And we both know that Hans will always give me what I want.
God, I love him so much.
I’m about to cross to him, needing to be closer, ready to give him his final wedding gift, when Val addresses the room.
“So I know this is a little bit of short notice, but everyone is invited—”
“Expected,” Dom interrupts.
Val shakes her head. “We would like you all to come to Chicago for Christmas. It’s Danielle’s first Christmas.” She strokes her hand over her daughter’s head. “And we want her to spend it surrounded by her loved ones.”
I watch Hans, my heart swelling even more with my love for him.
For half of his life, he’s had no one to share holidays with. And now we have this.
“We’ll be there,” Hans answers first.
When his eyes move to meet mine, I can see it all in his face. The affection. The peace.
My fingers reach up to touch the spot on my arm, next to my tracker, where the other implant used to be.
And I can’t wait any longer.
I have to tell him.
Tears fill my eyes as I mouth, “I’m pregnant.”
Hans opens his mouth, then slams it closed.
His throat works, and his eyes lower to my wedding-dress-covered stomach.
Then his eyes move back up to meet mine, and he mouths, “That’s one.”
Epilogue 2 - Hans
FIVE MONTHS LATER
“I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner,” I tell the three graves in front of me as emotion chokes my voice.
I close my eyes as the Arizona sun beats down on me.
“A part of me will always be buried here with you.” A tear tracks down my cheek. For them. For me. For everything I’ve done. “I’m not the same man you knew.”
I’m not the same.
But I became who I had to be.
“It’s still hard for me to believe it’s over. That this battle is done. But it is.” I bow my head. “It is.”
A gentle gust of wind passes over me. And it feels like the world is taking a breath with me.
Lifting my head, I look over at Cassandra standing near our car, stomach round with twins, a boy and a girl. And I picture the smile my mother would give her. I picture the way she’d hug my children and shower them with love. I think of Freya as an aunt. How she would spoil the kids. How she would love to tell embarrassing stories about me to Cassandra.
A little more lightness fills my chest.
“I think you’d like my wife,” I tell my family. “She’s… She’s my second chance. My new beginning.”
I step forward to Freya’s headstone and press the Post-it to the top.
This one is in my handwriting.
This isn’t goodbye.
Author’s Note
This is the first series I wrote start to finish, and the characters all mean so much to me. Each man, each woman… they’ll be a part of me forever.
So thank you, to each and every reader who has made this series into more than I could have dreamed.
The Alliance might be complete, but it’s never really goodbye in Tilly World. Because you never know who you’ll bump into. And you never know who might have a story to tell.
Like Cain.
xoxo
Acknowledgments
As is habit, the first thank you goes to my mother, Karen. I appreciate all of your encouragement and feedback and edits and suggestions—even when I argue over them. The Alliance was a new path, and I’m glad you happily skipped down it with me.
Kerissa, you are the absolute fucking best. I don’t know how you put up with me as a friend or a colleague, but I’m glad that you do. My life is better with you in it.
To my editors Jeanine and Beth, thank you both for working so hard to make me look smarter than I am.
To Lori, my cover designer, thank you for knowing exactly what these books need. They wouldn’t be the same without your stunning covers.
To Nikki, here is your spot to preen over The Alliance Bros until the end of time. You earned it.
Gabby, (G. Marie—author of Snowed in Fling) thank you for all the dark romance chats.
To my sprint group, thank you for helping to keep me on track and thank you for putting up with all of my dictator-like moods. I appreciate you.
Ashley, thank you for the amazing designs.
Thank you to all of the friends who I have met through this book world. There are too many of you to name now, and that makes me feel like the luckiest fucking person alive.
To my ARC readers, I owe you so much. Your support and excitement mean so damn much to me.
Thank you, Valentine PR, for all the help.
Thank you to my husband, Mr. Tilly, for feeding me while I live in my writing cave and for not judging me for still being awake when you’re getting up in the morning.
Thank you to my family and friends who constantly support me.
And to all the members of my BeanBag Book Club (my reader Facebook group). I love all the posts and comments and interactions with you. As my world gets bigger, it’s so important to have that safe space with you.
Finally, thank you to my parents for banging decades ago. Between nature and nurture, you formed my brain into a pile of mush capable of creating worlds. I’ll be forever grateful for this talent that has somehow crawled out of my brain and put itself on paper. The fictional world is so much more fun that working in sales.
Xoxoxo
About the Author
Like all her books, S. J. Tilly resides in the glorious state of Minnesota, where she was born and raised. To avoid the freezing cold winters, S. J. enjoys burying her head in books, whether to read them or write them or listen to them.