Epilogue
. . .
Sabien
One year later
Never thought I could be more protective of Amanda than I already was.
Then she got pregnant, and every primal instinct in my body cranked into overdrive.
Now I watch her move through our house—our real house, not that shitty bachelor pad I used to call home—her belly round and heavy with my child, and something fierce claws at my chest every damn time.
I did that. Put my baby in her. Marked her permanent.
My woman. My family. Mine to defend until my last fucking breath.
The ring on her finger catches the afternoon light—simple gold band matching the one I wear now. Married six months ago. Small ceremony. Just us, Hammer, a couple guys from the gym, and the judge. No fuss. Perfect. Exactly like her.
House sits in a quiet neighborhood. Fenced yard. Three bedrooms—room to grow. Security system I installed myself. Three deadbolts on every exterior door. Motion lights. Cameras covering every angle. Old habits don’t die when the stakes are this high.
I still get updates on Danny. Still know exactly which prison he’s rotting in, exactly when his earliest possible release date is. Seven years minimum. But if that piece of shit ever comes within fifty miles of my family, I’ll know. And I’ll be waiting.
Amanda calls me obsessive. Maybe I am. Last week some delivery guy lingered too long at the door, eyes tracking her pregnant body with what I decided was too much interest. I was there in seconds—arm around her waist, body between them, staring until the bastard practically sprinted back to his truck.
She laughed later. Called me a caveman. But she didn’t complain when I bent her over the couch right after, reclaiming what’s mine until she was shaking and whispering “Daddy” like a prayer.
The protector in me melts the second she takes my hand and presses it to her swollen belly.
Seven months along now. Every kick, every flutter is a fucking miracle.
I still catch myself whispering to her stomach at night when Amanda’s asleep—telling our little girl how I met her mama, promising I’ll always keep her safe, always keep the monsters away.
My tough-guy image is gone the moment those tiny movements ripple under my palm.
I’m still a violent man. Always will be. But with Amanda—with our baby—I’ve found a gentleness I didn’t know existed.
Four months ago, Nancy came screaming into the world.
I held Amanda’s hand through every contraction, more terrified than I ever was in the cage.
Then they laid this tiny, perfect thing in my arms, and the whole damn world shifted.
My daughter. Our daughter. Eight pounds of pure miracle with Amanda’s eyes and my stubborn chin.
Tonight isn’t about Nancy—she’s sleeping sound in her nursery across the hall, monitor glowing soft on the nightstand. Tonight is about my wife. My princess. My everything.
It’s been three weeks since the doctor cleared us. Three long-ass weeks of waiting for Amanda to feel ready. Tonight she gave me the look—the one through lowered lashes that says she wants me. That’s all it took.
I lay her on our bed gentle, like she’s made of glass. Strip her slow. Reverent. Her body’s different now—fuller breasts heavy with milk, softer hips, faint silver lines streaking her belly where our daughter grew. Stretch marks. To me they’re fucking beautiful. Badges. Proof she carried my child.
“Look at you,” I murmur, hands skimming every new curve. “Even more perfect now.”
She blushes, still shy sometimes. “I’m different.”
“You’re magnificent.” I kiss her breast—careful, no pressure, just lips on sensitive skin. “Gave me a family. Gave me a daughter. Gave me everything.”
Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me up. The kiss starts soft. Turns hungry fast. I’ve been patient. So fucking patient. But the need to feel her again, to sink into that tight heat, is burning me alive.
“Need you,” I growl against her mouth. “Need to be inside my little girl again.”
She moans soft, thighs parting. “Please, Daddy.”
I take my time prepping her. One finger. Then two. Slow. Careful. She’s tighter since the birth—I’m not risking hurting her. Not ever. When she’s wet and trembling, I line up and push in slow. We both gasp. Coming home. That’s what it feels like. Coming home after too long away.
“That’s it,” I praise, setting a gentle rhythm. “Taking Daddy so well. My good girl.”
Her legs wrap around me, pulling me deeper. “Missed this,” she whispers. “Missed you.”
“Been right here,” I tell her, picking up pace just enough. “Never leaving.”
“Not the same,” she pants, meeting every thrust. “Need you like this. Inside me.”
Her words snap something. I keep control—barely. She’s precious. The mother of my child. I won’t be rough. Not tonight.
“So fucking beautiful,” I murmur, hand sliding between us to circle her clit. “My wife. Mother of my children.”
“Children,” she repeats, arching into my touch. “Plural?”
My eyes darken. “You know I’m not done breeding you, princess.” Thumb presses firmer. “Want to give Nancy brothers. Sisters. Want to see you round with my seed again and again.”
She clenches hard around me at the words. “Yes,” she gasps. “Want that. Want your babies.”
Control frays. “Mine,” I growl, driving deeper. “Forever mine.”
“Yours,” she breathes, nails in my shoulders. “Always yours, Daddy.”
I groan—primal, possessive. “Come for me, little girl. Let me feel you.”
She shatters—crying my name, back arching, walls clamping down so tight I see stars. Her pussy milking me so tight triggers me. One final deep thrust and I’m coming hard, emptying inside her, marking her all over again.
After, I pull her against my chest. She fits perfect—like always. Her breathing slows and matches mine.
“I love you,” I murmur into her hair. “Both of you.”
She smiles against my skin. “We love you too.”
The monitor crackles—Nancy stirring, making small sleepy sounds. Amanda shifts to get up.
“I’ve got her,” I say as I kiss her forehead. “You rest.”
She watches me pull on boxers, a sleepy smile on her face.
I head to the nursery. Scoop Nancy up nice and gentle. She settles against my chest instantly, tiny hand on my neck. I rock her slow, humming low until her breathing evens again.
Through the monitor I know Amanda’s listening. Smiling. Safe.
A year ago she was hiding from a monster. Now she’s married to one—scarred, violent, dangerous to anyone who threatens what’s mine. But with her, with Nancy, I’m nothing but gentle. Devoted. Their.
In this house we built—locks, cameras, love, trust, passion—I’ve got everything I never knew I needed.
My princess. My daughter. My family.
Forever.