43. Epilogue
WILLOW
One year later…
I wake to the soft sound of waves lapping against our private beachfront. The morning sun spills through the linen curtains, bathing our bedroom in golden light. Axel still sleeps beside me, his face peaceful in a way I never saw during those prison sessions.
One year and a half. We’ve been free for an entire eighteen months.
I slip from the bed and pad to the bathroom, the white marble cool beneath my bare feet. The pregnancy test waits under the counter where I left it last night; too nervous to take it then. Three minutes later, I’m staring at two pink lines.
My jaw clenches as I clutch the plastic stick. I should be terrified. I should be thinking about Axel’s past, his voices, and the bloodshed I’ve witnessed. But as I place my palm against my still-flat stomach, all I feel is... complete.
“Willow?” Axel’s voice carries from the bedroom, husky with sleep.
I tuck the test into my robe’s pocket and return to him. He’s sitting up now, the sheets pooled around his waist, dark tattoos stark against his skin. Even after all this time, seeing him still makes my heart race.
“What are you scheming?” He narrows his eyes, reading my expression with unsettling accuracy. “You look different.”
I crawl across the bed to him, capturing his face between my hands. “I have news.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “What kind of news?”
I laugh. “I have something for you.”
“Better than what I gave you last night?” His hands find my waist, pulling me closer.
I pull the test from my pocket and place it in his palm. His expression freezes, then transforms into something I’ve never seen—wonder, fear, and something else entirely.
“You’re...” He can’t finish the sentence.
“Yes.”
“And you’re... happy about this?”
The question should give me pause, but it doesn’t. “I’ve never been more happy about anything.”
Axel stares at the pregnancy test in his palm, his expression displaying emotions I never thought he could feel. I hold my breath, watching his face for any sign of the mania that once consumed him.
“Are you... okay with this?” I ask.
He looks up, and the intensity in his green eyes nearly knocks me back. “Okay with it? Little pixie, I’m...” He struggles with the words, emotion tightening his throat. “I’m happy. I’m actually fucking happy about this.”
Relief floods me, releasing tension I didn’t realize I was carrying.
“I want this,” he continues, his voice growing stronger. “I want to make you happy. I’ll ensure you have whatever you want, whatever you need.”
Axel pulls me into his lap, one hand finding its way to my stomach, his touch reverent in a way I’ve never felt from him before.
“And our kid?” His voice drops lower, almost vulnerable. “They won’t suffer like I did. Not ever.”
I see the shadows of his past flicker across his face—memories of his father’s beatings, the cold juvenile detention cells, and the system that failed him at every turn.
“I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt them,” he says, but there’s something different in his tone. It’s not the old bloodlust speaking. This is something new—protection, devotion, purpose.
“We’ll love them,” I say, covering his hand with mine. “That’s the most important thing. We’ll just... love them.”
Axel nods, pressing his forehead against mine. “I don’t know how to be a father,” he admits. “I never had one worth a damn. But for our kid, I’ll figure it out.”
I close my eyes, savoring this moment of honesty. The psychologist in me knows Axel will never be fully “cured.” The woman who loves him doesn’t care.
“We’ll figure it out together,” I promise.
I momentarily linger in Axel’s embrace before reality calls us back to the day ahead. “We should get up.”
Axel groans but releases me. “Your mother’s still trying to fatten me up.”
I smile, watching him stretch his tattooed body as he rises from the bed. My mother was shocked when I first brought him home, but over time, she’d come to accept, if not fully understand, what we had.
“She thinks you haven’t got enough fat on you,” I tease, pulling on a flowing sundress that catches the ocean breeze through our open windows.
Axel slips into linen pants and a t-shirt—casual clothes that would have looked strange on the man I first met behind prison walls. “She knows what I’ve done, yet she still feeds me homemade bread.”
“That’s Mom,” I say softly. “She tends to everything that needs care.”
We walk hand in hand through our airy house toward the kitchen. Through the windows, I spot my mother in her garden, the sprawling paradise she’s created in our backyard. Tropical flowers bloom in riotous colors while butterflies dance between the blossoms. She spends hours there, finding peace after the chaos of our escape.
“Tommy’s already up,” Axel notes, nodding toward the villa next door, where Tommy sits on his porch with his girlfriend, Lucia. They’re drinking coffee, heads bent together in conversation.
“They look happy,” I observe.
Axel squeezes my hand. “He deserves it. The kid never had a chance before.”
These moments of tenderness from Axel still surprise me. He’s found a balance I never thought possible—channeling his roughness into protecting us rather than destroying others. The voices still come sometimes; I see it in his eyes when they do. He’s learned to quiet them, to redirect that energy.
“And you?” he asks, his hand drifting to my stomach. “Are you happy?”
I place my hand over his. “I have everything I never knew I wanted.”
I watch Axel walk onto our private terrace overlooking the ocean, carrying a small black case. The afternoon sun casts golden patterns across his skin, highlighting the intricate artwork that covers his body. He sets the case down on the table between our loungers and opens it carefully.
“What’s that?” I ask, setting aside my book.
Axel’s eyes meet mine. “Remember what I promised you?”
My mind flashes back to our conversations in the prison when fantasy and reality blurred together in dangerous ways. “You promised me many things,” I say with a small smile.
“I promised to mark you as mine.” He pulls out a tattoo machine, ink vials, and other supplies from the case. “Forever.”
I sit up straighter, my pulse quickening. “I thought you’d forgotten about that promise.”
“Never, little pixie,” he says, arranging the items methodically.
I watch as he prepares everything with practiced precision. I’ve seen Axel focused before—planning our escape, analyzing threats—but this is different. There’s an artistic care in his movements, a creative attention to detail I’ve never witnessed. His hands, usually instruments of violence, now move with the delicate precision of an artist.
“What design were you thinking?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
His lips curve into that smile that still makes my knees weak. “Something small. Something only for us.” He shows me a simple sketch—a delicate design that combines elements meaningful to both of us. “Here,” he says, touching the inside of my wrist. “Where you can see it every day.”
I nod, extending my arm to him. “Do it.”
Axel prepares my skin, his touch gentle yet firm. When the needle first touches me, I inhale sharply at the sensation—not entirely pain, not entirely pleasure, but something that dances between both worlds.
“Still okay?” he murmurs, glancing up at me.
I nod, unable to form words as he continues. Each press of the needle sends electricity through my body, connecting us in a way that feels ancient and primal. I watch his face as he works—completely absorbed, reverent almost. This man who has taken lives is now creating something permanent on my skin with the utmost care.
I watch as Axel finishes the tattoo, his concentration is absolute as he wipes away the last traces of ink and blood. When he’s done, he sits back, examining his work critically before nodding.
“Take a look,” he says.
I draw my wrist closer to see what he’s created. It’s beautiful—a delicate design that intertwines two elements: a small pixie wing—his nickname for me—merged with prison bars. Around them twines a thin line representing our journey together—broken in places yet continuing onward.
“It’s perfect.” I trace my finger gently beside the fresh ink. “Our beginning and our path forward.”
Axel watches me with an intensity that still makes my heart race. “It’s a reminder that sometimes beauty comes from the darkest places imaginable.”
I rise from my chair, overcome with emotion for this complicated man. Without thinking, I press my lips against his, pouring every ounce of gratitude and love into the kiss.
His response is immediate. His hands find my waist as I slide onto his lap, the thin fabric of my sundress riding up. The ocean breeze caresses my bare skin beneath, a secret I’ve been keeping all morning for just this moment.
Axel breaks our kiss, his pupils dilating as he realizes I’ve got no panties on. “Were you planning this all along?”
I smile against his lips. “Maybe I just wanted to feel the breeze.”
His low laugh vibrates through me as his hands slide beneath my dress. “Always surprising me,” he murmurs, shifting to free himself from his linen pants.
I adjust my position, sinking down onto him with a soft gasp. His hands grip my hips as I begin to move, lost in the connection between us that transcends the physical.
The tattoo on my wrist still tingles, marking me as his in a way that feels like destiny fulfilled.
“You’re mine,” Axel growls against my ear, his hands gripping my hips with possessive intensity. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” I declare, my body rolling against his in perfect rhythm. “I’ve always been yours, even before I knew it.”
The ocean breeze caresses our skin as we move together on the lounger. My hands brace against his chest, feeling his heartbeat thunder beneath my fingertips.
“Look into my eyes,” he insists, and I open them, finding his intense stare burning into mine. “I want to witness your surrender.”
I can’t look away, captivated by the intensity in those green depths. “Axel, I need?—”
“I know exactly what you need,” he says, adjusting his angle to hit that perfect spot inside me. “I always have.”
The pleasure builds, overwhelming in its intensity. “Please don’t stop.”
“Never,” he promises, his voice rough with emotion. “You saved me, Willow. Dragged me into the light when I thought I’d die in darkness.”
His confession pushes me closer to the edge. “You showed me my truth and taught me not to fear it.”
Our bodies move faster now, driven by need and something deeper that binds us together. His hands cradle my face as he kisses me deeply, desperately.
“Come for me,” he demands against my lips. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
The pleasure crests and rolls through me in waves. I cry out his name as my body tightens around him, triggering his own release. We cling to each other, satiated.
As the aftershocks subside, Axel holds me close, our bodies still joined. He traces the fresh tattoo on my wrist with reverent fingertips.
“I love you beyond reason,” he says softly, words once unimaginable from his lips. “You’re the only peace I’ve ever known.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “And I love you with everything I am. The darkness and the light—all of it belongs to you.”
As I rest my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow, I marvel at the journey that brought us here—from prison walls to ocean breezes, from professional boundaries to boundless love. We were never meant to be, yet somehow, we became exactly what we both needed.
I’ve found my truth in Axel’s arms: sometimes, the most beautiful gardens grow from the darkest soil. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Thank you for reading Imprisoned ! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.