Epilogue

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Epilogue (Storm)

Christmas struck quickly that year.

I had assumed it'd be impossible to enjoy the year. Newell was under my father's close observation. My father seemed busier than usual. He was always in his office, filing paper work and hiding from the council, who was cracking down hard on him for not killing Newell.

Slade and Zander had gone back to Detroit to spend Yule with Slade's mother and their coven. Slade's tongue was still in the process of his healing, so now it was even harder to understand what he was saying. What with his Cockney blocked by a sore tongue. Zander had become extremely overprotective of him and was always holding Slade's hand.

Kristophe had also recovered, thank goodness. My father even paid for him to have surgery on his busted fang, having it replaced with porcelain. I don't think that would make Kristophe feel any better, but he thanked him anyway. Kristophe was working in the manor now. He had his own room and own things as well. I think it made him comfortable.

Alexander had gone back with Amber and Mary-Kay for Yule. He refused my offer to stay with us and I figured why, so I didn't pressure him. He'd probably had enough. Alexander was smiling the day we parted ways, but I could tell that he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

Mark was heartbroken that his friends had left him.

He was sitting in our room, chowing down on all the Christmas gifts that other clans had sent him. They treated him like a prince, sending new high fashion clothing, chocolate covered pretzels and cherries and strawberries. Candy popcorn, sugar cookies with blood sprayed on top, William's homemade blood candy canes.

But it seemed like none of it got him into the Christmas spirit as he sat there, probably silently fuming instead of watching the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer Christmas special.

"If you keep eating like that, you'll gain weight." I commented flatly as I came out of the bathroom, wearing the soft black bathrobe, tying it around my waist. Mark winced, then shot me a glare before looking away at the television. A commercial came on, playing Frank Sinatra's Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. He groaned and fell over, sending chocolate pretzels and candy canes flying off onto the floor and around him.

"This is stupid. I hate Christmas." He grumbled in irritation, then picked up a chocolate covered strawberry, popping it into his mouth, sucking impatiently on it. I frowned for a moment as I walked by the sofa before hesitating. I sighed and smiled lightly, coming up behind the sofa, leaning over to look down at Mark, who rolled over to look up at me, chocolate covering his lips.

I leaned further down and touched my lips to his, savoring the flavor of chocolate. I watched Mark's eyes flicker and he looked like he wanted to pull away for a moment, but I pulled back lightly to lick the chocolate off his lips. Mark moaned softly, parting his lips. I trailed my tongue around his lips twice before I slipped it into his mouth. He writhed on the sofa, arching his back, his blue eyes half-lidded as I sucked on his tongue, taking it between my lips to suck the chocolate right off the squriming muscle.

Mark moaned and reached up, putting his arms around my neck. I managed to fall over the side of the sofa on top of Mark, making him laugh out loud as I smirked, pushing myself up on my hands and knees on top of him.

"Don't be upset," I commented at last, smiling lightly as I stroked his cheek with my thumb, watching him study my face intently, "I'm still here." Mark studied my face, his smile faint now before he leaned up, kissing me on the nose before slumping back against the sofa. He paused to scrunch his nose up at a pretzel that bounced into his face.

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