Chapter 50 - The Open Gates
Later that evening, long after the guests had departed and the grand ballroom had grown quiet, Ronan and I walked hand in hand out onto the stone balcony of the East Wing suite.
The night air was cool and crisp, carrying the distant, rhythmic murmur of the Ashport harbor where our ships sailed freely across unclouded waters.
Inside the nursery, the soft, steady breathing of our children rose and fell in peaceful harmony, guarded by the silent, eternal strength of Raven Hill.
Ronan pulled me close against his chest, wrapping his heavy wool coat around my shoulders to shield me from the autumn chill. He rested his chin on my head, looking out at the glittering lights of the city stretching endlessly into the dark night.
“You know,” Ronan murmured softly against my hair, “we never did check those old carriage house drainage tunnels after Wesley. There might still be a few ghosts hiding down there.”
I smiled, turning around in his embrace and wrapping my arms securely around his neck, looking up into his stormy gray eyes with a mischievous glint.
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“Let them hide, Mr. Cain,” I whispered, pulling his lips down to mine. “Because no matter how dark the tunnels get, we’ll always own the light.”
With the iron gates wide open to the world, and our hearts locked safely inside each other, our empire stood unshakeable—bound by iron, secured by truth, and anchored forever in love.
