Page 159 of When Death Whispers

Hudson’s teeth graze her shoulder, leaving marks that mirror my own. The sight of her, caught between us, accepting all we have to give, pushes me to the edge of my control.

“Come for us, Parker.” My voice is rough with need. “Let us feel you fall apart.”

As if my words were a trigger, Parker shatters. Her body arches, a cry tearing from her throat as her orgasm overtakes her. The bond between us flares, a supernova of sensation and emotion that threatens to consume us all. Her thoughts explode into oblivion, a kaleidoscope of color and pleasure, sucking me right into her orbit.I roar as my own release crashes through me, spilling hot and thick over Parker’s hand and onto her side. Hudson groans, his hips stuttering as he follows, filling Parker from behind. Steo’s shadows writhe wildly, his orange eyes blazing as he joins us in blissful oblivion.

For a few long moments, we’re lost in the aftermath, our bodies intertwined, breath mingling as we slowly come back to ourselves. Slowly, carefully, Hudson eases himself out of Parker. She collapses against Steo’s chest, utterly spent, her eyes heavy-lidded but filled with a contentment I’ve never seen before. Her mind is completely blank, at ease and peaceful, making something dangerous gentle bloom in my own chest.

Steo’s voice is a deep rumble, filled with wonder. “My Snow Pea… my anchor. I did not think myself capable of this—of feeling this deeply.”

Parker lifts her head slowly, her hair cascading like moonlit silk across Steo’s chest, and she smiles gently, tenderly touching his jaw. “You deserve this,” she whispers. “We deserve this.”

Hudson moves closer, his presence calm, steady, grounding. His hands glide across Parker’s shoulders, easing lingering tension from her muscles, massaging tender affection into every touch. He brushes her hair aside, pressing a kiss against the nape of her neck, the gesture warm, protective, and tender.

“This is our new reality,” Hudson says softly, his voice steady and reassuring. “We’re connected, deeper than we ever imagined possible.”

Parker nods. “I can feel you—all of you—here.” She touches her chest, her gaze serious. “You’re a part of me now.”

Steo’s shadows swirl around us, his essence pulsing gently, echoing the steady rhythm of our shared heartbeats. I relax, finally allowing myself the luxury of vulnerability, letting the trust I’ve built with them sink deep into my core.

“It’s uncharted, uncertain. But together? We’ll figure it out.”

Steo nods quietly, his pink tinged shadows softly winding through Parker’s fingers, stroking her skin. “We are bound not only by magic but by choice. You chose to trust, chose to love, chose us despite everything.”

Parker smiles, her eyes shining with emotion, her thoughts reflecting… love. “I would choose you all again. Every single time.”

I exhale deeply, the tension melting from my limbs. For the first time ever, I feel...whole. Grounded. Accepted. Loved. Me. A fucking Nightmare from the Bleak.

“So, anyone care to explain when Bone Daddy’s shadows turned pink?” My question breaks the heaviness of the moment, the emotional heart to heart making me uncomfortable.

Parker lets out a tired laugh, the pulsing power around us flaring just a bit, and Steo mumbles a curse under his breath.

“It’s an interesting story,” Parker yawns, the words almost unintelligible, “but for another time.”

“Rest now,” Hudson murmurs, carefully maneuvering himself beside Parker. “We’re here. We’ll watch over you. We have all the time in the world to catch up on details later.”

And with that we settle together, four souls once fragmented now woven into a single tapestry—no longer alone, no longer lost.

Simply, finally, together.

Epilogue

“Okay,listen closely. Pancakes are sacred, and we’re not messing around,” I warn the smoky shadows swirling curiously above the makeshift stove Steo had reluctantly installed in our Evergloom burrow.

The shadows twist and pulse with excitement, their color rippling briefly into cheerful pink as they wait for instructions.

“Step one,” I say, brandishing the spatula like a sword. “Mix the batter. Carefully. Unlike last time.”

The shadows pause, drooping slightly in embarrassment. Last time had been… explosive. Flour and batter everywhere, even in places I didn’t think batter could reach.

“Pay attention.” I start to mix the flour, eggs, and buttermilk.

The shadows hover, gripping the whisk with shaky enthusiasm. They swirl awkwardly, mimicking me.

“That’s it,” I say. “Gentle. Cooking—like sex—is an art.”

Across the room, lounging casually in an oversized armchair Steo dragged from somewhere in the human realm, Rad snorts and amusement flares along the bond. “Cooking’s just edible shit you heat up, human. Sex—that’s the art.”

Steo’s shadows bristle, immediately defensive, flicking bits of batter in Rad’s direction.

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