To everyone who has stuck with this story for so long, I cannot thank you enough! It's finally complete, and I'm really happy with how it turned out. This is not a true ending, rather the start of a new beginning. Hope you enjoy...

Samhain.

An entire year and one day has gone by, and I have to laugh now. My eyes are dried out from the tears I'd shed over the last 366 days, my throat raw from waking up screaming. When I woke up this morning, it was like a veil had been lifted. I could see in color again, the bright autumn leaves outside my bedroom window alerting me of that. Everything before had been dull and gray through my eyes since it happened. The joy and gratitude I felt over retrieving my daughter hadn't been enough to keep me out of the fog, but I carried on because I had to. I no longer had a mother, and as awful as I felt, as guilty as I felt, and no matter how badly I wanted to die with her, I couldn't. I couldn't subject Moira to the same fate—not when she barely knew me. So every morning I got up with her, fed her, changed her, did every normal thing I could manage to push aside my grief for as long as possible. Then when she was distracted by Hunter or Bree or Alyce, I would go sit in the shower and cry. I would come out of the hot, steamy water exhausted and prune-skinned, and then take a nap for the rest of the afternoon. I didn't work, didn't need to as I'd inherited everything Maeve had ever owned. The house was mine, though I couldn't bring myself to go over. The shop was mine, and I left Alyce in charge. Her car, however, I did take. My hated Mercedes met its end—the one and only form of destruction Hunter had granted me. I had driven it out to an empty road, hopped out, and set the damned thing on fire. My insurance and the clueless mechanic chalked it up to an electric malfunction.

Ciaran was rotting away in a rehab facility, powerless. I would have given anything to see him stripped of his powers, given anything for him to see me standing there and realizing he was nothing now. But I hadn't been allowed. It would have been too much for me to handle in my "delicate" state, the council had told me through Hunter. Not even to my face—that's how weak I seemed to them. In hindsight, I could understand where they were coming from. I was an emotional teenager, postpartum and grieving. I would have been a liability in that situation. So as I did with the services for Maeve, I stayed in the shower when he was being stripped of his powers. I lost both of my parents in less than a month of each other, and though Ciaran wasn't dead and he was evil as evil could be, he was still my father. I still grieved for him, still cried when I thought about how awful it would be to not feel magick anymore, to not be connected to the Goddess and nature. Which, in turn, only made me cry more.

I had considered therapy for a brief minute, but then dismissed it. There was no doubt I'd be locked away on a 72-hour hold if I'd gone into a therapist's office and started spouting "nonsense" of being a witch and almost being sacrificed for my powers. And while those things were certainly true, it was best I didn't mention it in a clinical setting with my already hysterical, uncontrollable emotions.

I'm looking out my window now and can see the leaves, the gentle wind swishing them around, letting me know that I'd slept through half of fall and winter was on its way. My eyes are dry and I feel…calm. Content, even. Maybe not at peace, but I feel like I can carry on a conversation about Maeve and not burst into tears. This must be what it feels like, the start of a new beginning. I'm not happy, not yet, but I feel like I can be…eventually.

-Morgan

I set the pen down and closed my BOS. Taking a deep breath in, I held it for a few seconds. I let it out slowly, gazing out the window. I felt a small smile twitch the corners of my mouth. I did feel content, and it was amazing.

My senses, clear and sharp once again, tiptoed throughout the apartment. I could feel that it was about seven a.m., I could see through my mind's eye Moira sleeping and pictured the shallow rising and falling of her chest as she breathed evenly. I could hear Dagda and Trixie's heartbeats as they slept, coiled together on a couch pillow on the floor.

And I could feel Hunter's senses reaching out to mine as he slowly came up behind me, gauging my mood. After a moment, after letting him in, I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, and I tilted my head to the side to let him kiss my neck. I held his hands to my chest as he kissed me, his lips moving painstakingly from my collarbone to the curve of my jaw.

"Good morning," he murmured against my cheek before kissing it.

My eyes closed and a small smile lifted the corners of my mouth. "Morning," I replied softly.

Hunter pulled away and sat on the edge of our currently disheveled bed. I turned in the desk chair to face him and crossed my right leg over my left.

His eyes expressed a seemingly endless supply of patience as he waited for me to speak. We'd been doing this dance for several months now—I would wake up feeling okay, almost normal, but after nice moments of tender kissing and love-making, I would be consumed by a wave of grief as reality set in. At that point, rather than have him see me cry for the umpteenth time, I would disconnect and make an excuse about needing to check on Moira or needing to get something from the shop downstairs.

"I'm okay," I said. "I really feel okay."

Hunter nodded and patted my knee. "Let's just take it easy today."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious—I'm not on the verge of a nervous breakdown, promise."

He stared at me hard for a moment, his green gaze penetrating deeply into mine, trying to assess me. Annoyed, I let all my barriers down. He scanned my mood, my aura, anything I couldn't successfully lie about.

"See?" I shrugged. "Nothing to worry about."

Hunter ran a hand through his hair tiredly. "Morgan—"

"Oh, my God," I huffed, leaving my chair to straddle him on the bed. I sat on his lap, my thighs hugging his hips and my arms around his neck. "Hunter, for the first time in a year I feel like myself again. Don't you see how great that is? Can't you be excited?"

Hunter's hands came around my lower back to support my weight. "I am excited for you, love. I know how hard it's been and I want nothing more than for you to feel happy. I'm just…" he sighed. "I'm cautious. The last time you felt this way you set your car on fire and then wouldn't get out of bed for two days."

I nodded, knowing full well how awful it must have been for him to see me like that. Once again I felt guilty, but not for Maeve this time. I felt guilty that I had systematically destroyed all the progress Hunter had done in his life. He was the youngest member of the council, a brilliant, determined seeker, and I was responsible for him having to quit. He couldn't go around after witches misusing magick if his child's mother didn't even know if it was night or day. He couldn't pursue the redemption and revenge he longed for over the death of his brother. Because of me. Because I had gotten pregnant and lost everything in a single night. Because he loved me so much that he didn't even think twice about quitting the council.

I pressed my lips against his, willing him to open up to me, to let me show him how I felt. I needed him. "I love you," I whispered, pressing myself closer to him. "I want you." I urged. "I just want to feel good right now."

He breathed deeply, willing himself to think this through, feeling the need to put me off and be the rational one. But, physically, he was losing an uphill battle.

I reached down and lifted the hem of my shirt, peeling it off completely and letting it fall to the floor, my waist-length, sleep-tousled hair falling around me in loose brown waves. I placed my hands on his shoulders and kissed him again. "Please?" I whimpered, a breathy moan I knew he couldn't resist escaping my lips.

Holding my hips, Hunter pulled me backwards onto the bed with him, our mouths pressed together desperately, parting only long enough to remove his clothes and my underwear. When we came together I was seeing stars, lost in a dizzy dream with spots of brightness swirling around me.

Towards the end of it, when I could barely think, I felt Hunter's soul meet mine, a mutual understanding of love and lust for each other and the need to feel this ecstasy after months of despair and sorrow. This was love, I realized. This was that intense feeling of need and security, the feeling of rightness that came from loving someone and having them love you back just as much. I never wanted to let it go.

"Are you sure?"

I looked up at my former house, eerily familiar, and entirely unchanged in the last year. I nodded at Hunter's question, and he took the key out of his pocket to unlock the door.

I squeezed Moira to me as I walked up the porch steps with her, kissing her cheek before setting her down outside the now open door. She looked up at me, her light hazel eyes asking for permission for only a second until toddler senses kicked in and she waddled her way into the living room.

I looked at Hunter again and smiled sadly. This was tougher than I had thought it would be, but I knew that hard things had to be faced. No use sweeping it under the rug.

He took my hand and led me into the house, shutting the door behind us.

"This feels so weird," I said. "Like another lifetime ago."

Hunter rubbed my back and kissed my forehead. "I bet."

Moira was attempting to climb up into one of the armchairs, and Hunter left me to scoop her up, causing a flurry of delighted giggles as she was being held upside down. When he set her on her feet, she immediately fell down from lack of balance. I held my breath, waiting to step in the moment she started to cry, but she looked up at Hunter, saw that he didn't look worried, and laughed as if it were nothing.

I thanked the Goddess then that she hadn't seen me, hadn't seen my worried expression of fear that she'd gotten hurt because she probably would have freaked.

Hunter smiled at me reassuringly, and I took a deep breath. "It doesn't have to be now, Morgan."

"I know." I replied. "I just want to start moving in now, let us adjust to it slowly." I tucked my hair back behind my ear. "I was thinking of offering Alyce our apartment—I know she likes where she lives now but I'd let her live there for free."

"That's really nice. Very generous."

I shook my head. "She's just been there for me, for us, so much and I want to repay her any way I can."

Hunter looked around the living room, dust and cobwebs everywhere. "Where first?"

Hours later we were finished cleaning. The house, now habitable again, seemed brighter and happier. I went downstairs as Hunter put Moira down for a nap in my old room, needing a break in case I felt overwhelmed.

I stood in front of my mom's workroom, my hand on the doorknob. I was scared to turn the handle—sad of what I might see. Would it still feel like her? I wondered. Would I still feel her vibrations, her aura?

I swallowed hard and opened the door, the heavy wood creaking as it lazily swung open. I stepped in and shut the door behind me, leaning back against it for support. It did feel like her—not like she was physically here, but I felt her presence. I felt her light as I looked around the untouched room that no dust particles had dared settle on. My lip quivered and I bit down on it, refusing to cry. I wiped my eyes with my sleeves and plowed forward, going to the middle shelf on the back wall to retrieve her most sacred possessions. Belwicket's tools the tools I had been drawn to since I could remember. The metal box was spelled to be useless for anyone else, but as I touched it, the lid unlatched. A single tear slipped out as I felt Maeve's soul wrap around my senses, enveloping me tightly and telling me that she loved me more than anything on this earth.

I sniffled, forcing myself to smile. She was still here, in a way. I could still feel her and feel comforted by her, and that was infinitely better than nothing.

I opened the lid and reached for the green silk robe I'd been envisioning wearing since I was little. This was a special robe, made for Riordan witches to help us channel our power. Maeve had worn it only for sabbats, never feeling the need to use it in weekly circles. She had promised me that I could wear it only when I felt like I should. I hadn't known what she'd meant until now. Now I held the green silk in my hands and felt the magick imbued in its fabric, feeling that the time was right. It was finally time for me to live up to my full potential, to embrace the light once and for all.

That night, surrounding the bonfire as we danced in a circle, I felt myself let go of everything. All my thoughts, worries, anything negative that held me back from loving my life disappeared into the fire as easily and carefree as Moira's dancing. Being too little to join the rest of our coven, she danced inside our circle, her black tutu swishing around her. She was careful to stay far enough away from the flames but occasionally stopped and gazed into it, in awe of its power.

My coven mates, many of whom did not even live near us anymore but still come back for our celebrations, were lighthearted and laughing, welcoming the new year with nothing but openness and enthusiasm.

My eyes met Hunter's across the circle and I smiled through the tears that were now pouring out as realization struck me.

As I had sent out my love and respect to my mother on the other side, I felt a warmness spread throughout my body. An answer of sorts. The final message from the woman who had loved me until the end: a baby. I was carrying another baby.

It was a blessing. It was a gift.

It was magick.