The Final Bullet

Clara lowered the gun. Her ears were ringing.

She dropped the weapon in the dirt.

She turned to Silas.

He was watching her. He was covered in the blood of his enemies, terrifying and beautiful.

"It's done," she said.

"It is done," Silas agreed.

Clara walked up to him. She placed her hands on his ruined vest, right over his still heart.

"I chose," she said. "I chose the gun. I chose the fight. And I chose you."

She tilted her head back, exposing her throat to the moonlight.

"I'm not running, Silas. I'm staying. Make me strong enough to stay forever."

Silas looked at her. The doubt was gone. The regret was washed away by the blood on the ground.

"Forever," he promised.

He leaned down. His lips brushed the pulse of her neck. A sharp, stinging pain, followed by a rush of ecstasy.

Clara gasped, clinging to him as the world faded to black.

\---

**Epilogue**

*One Month Later.*

The town of Orofino was a ghost town. The mines were closed. The saloon was boarded up. The people had fled, whispering stories of the demon that lived in the foothills and the white lady who commanded him.

Blackwood Manor stood silent and proud against the night sky. The scorch marks on the porch had been repaired.

On the high balcony, two figures stood watching the moon.

Clara leaned against the stone railing. Her skin was as pale as milk, her eyes a shifting, luminous crimson. She felt the night wind, but she didn't feel the cold. She felt power.

Silas stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"Are you happy, my love?" he whispered.

Clara looked out at the empty desert, at the world that could no longer hurt her. She turned in his arms, pressing a kiss to his cold lips.

"I am home," she said.

Silas tightened his hold, the monster and his bride, finally safe in the eternal dark.