A/N: Hello! I hope you enjoy this extended epilogue. This is my gift to you all for being so very supportive of this story. I know an extended epilogue was asked for by quite a few people, so I hope this does you justice.

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Sometimes I see him—his face in the darkness of the open closet or the blur of trees as we drive by. I wish I believed myself when I mutter that it's just my head conjuring such things from nothing. I wish my father wasn't capable of things beyond my imagination.

It's been a year since I escaped my father and became a shifter. I thought that would be enough time to move on from it all, but I often find myself reliving the many memories I have stored away. Adam will pull me from my trance only to tell me that he's called my name twice already. He'll ask me what's on my mind like he doesn't know, and I'll wave him off as if it were nothing. We used to talk about it during the first few months, but eventually, I saw no use in repeating the same worries and nightmares. There is only so much he can do.

Despite my lingering past, we are okay. Most of the day, I am perfectly fine. Schooling at the academy has come to an end, so my friends and I have graduated to working on pack things instead of math problems. Vivianne and I still visit the academy to check in with Dean Murphy or attend assemblies for the students. We've asked Imogen again and again if she would like to come with us, but she refuses to step foot in the academy building. She's always off training with border guards if they let her join in. If they don't, Imogen mentions her relationship with me and they usually comply.

"I don't know why she would want to be out here," Vivianne says as we make our way through the trees.

"She wants to be a guard."

"Exactly. Why? Why be a guard when she can help you with Luna duties like I do? Helping you is a lucky position to hold; it's important and comfortable. But she's out here, well, doing this," Vivianne motions forward. I follow the guide of her hand and catch sight of the wild girl.

Imogen is shifted and wrestling around with a wolf much bigger than herself. Their large, fur-coated bodies are tossed and shoved and thrown again tree trunks. They snap at each other and I flinch. "Is this a fair fight?" I ask Vivianne.

"When it comes to her, it never is. Always picking the big ones, isn't she?"

I sigh and step forward. "Hey, Ronda Rousey!" The other wolf stops and moves off. Imogen's dark wolf turns to me, her bright eyes annoyed by my interruption. "Where's Adam?"

She nods to the left.

"We're going to go see him. Do you want to come with us?"

Imogen glances back to her sparring partner.

"Well, will we see you back at the house later?" I ask. She nods, so Vivianne and I continue left without her.

"She's going to hurt herself if she keeps fighting wolves like that," Vivianne says. "She needs someone around her size."

"You know how Adam feels about training non-guards. We aren't one of those packs. We're people, not killing machines."

"And I don't want to be one of those packs, but Imogen needs someone to practice with. You know she's not going to stop. I've actually heard that Iris can fight, so maybe Imogen can spar with her. Maybe you can ask Adam. You know, make little puppy dog eyes and say please?"

I roll my eyes. "You know Adam listens to me without having to act ridiculous?"

"Great, so you'll ask him. I'm sure Iris will do it too. She must be a good fighter after being rogue for so long."

Voice arise in the distance, and I can hear Adam's among them. Vivianne stumbles along as I pick up my pace, emerging from the trees and seeing two border guards speaking with him and Alex. Adam peers past them and looks to me. He steps in my direction, his arms crossed and eyes steady.

I can't help but notice the two guards and Alex staring at the ground, examining.

"Is everything okay?" I ask him.

Vivianne and I were at the house when he called and asked me to meet him. Curious by his lack of information, I made sure we left right away.

Adam stands in front of me. His body shields whatever is so interesting on the forest floor behind him. "Everything is fine," he tells us. "We've come across something, and I have a feeling you might understand it."

He brings me over, and I finally take a look. Blooming out of the chilled, hard earth are many precious white flowers, small and unfamiliar. They have sprouted in a strange pattern, but suddenly I see it—the picture. The flowers create the shape of the moon. It is a crescent and resting in its curve is a baby, bundled and safe. I take in a breath and kneel, reaching my hand out to it as if the little one will touch me back.

"What does it mean?" Vivianne asks. "Who did this?"

I glance back at her and see she is leaning over me, studying the enchanting phenomenon. "Can you give us a minute?" I ask.

Vivianne and the others step aside. I stand and Adam comes beside me. "It's her," I whisper to him and look over the message once again. "She's telling us that she has him and that he's alright."

"She has him?" Adam questions.

"My baby. She said that she would look after him for me—that he would be with her forever. This is her telling me that he's with her, that he's okay."

As I take in the picture, the rest of the world slips away. I remember when I could touch the earth and make flowers spring up in the dead of winter. Those flowers weren't like these, though. These flowers are harmless. They're tiny and delicate just like the baby cradled by the moon's crib-like shape.

I peer up at Adam when his hand rests against my back. "I'm okay," I tell him, "this is good news."

He wipes the stray tear from my cheek as if saying, but you're crying?

"She'll be good to him. He couldn't have a better mother than her."

Adam says, "You are his mother, Wrenley. But I agree, she will be good to him."

I swallow my emotions and turn back to the others. After taking a breath, I tell Vivianne, "Don't worry about the rest of the day. Take a break—I need one as well."

"Are you sure?" She asks.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll see you later at dinner, okay?"

Vivianne nods and says goodbye to everyone before heading in the direction of her house. I'm sure she'll ask me about this later, and I don't know whether to tell her the entire truth about that time. It will feel abnormal to discuss such things after progressing away from them for so long. Adam leaves the guards to their work, and together we make our way back to the house.

Waindale is submerging into winter once again. The forest isn't as loud as it is during the summer, when birds fill the empty space with songs and the wind combs through millions of leaves, rustling and swaying above my head. The forest is still now—waiting. The ground is hard. The animals are sparse. It is just us and the barren world.

"You don't have to come back with me," I say to him. "You're supposed to be meeting Ben."

"It's been a while since the last time we were alone out here."

I glance to him. "We used to be out here all the time, huh? Meeting in secret. Arguing. Figuring things out."

"Do you miss it?" He asks.

"Sometimes. That was before all of these duties. I used to fantasize about us leaving this place. No more parents, or shifters, or school—we could go where none of that mattered. It could have been us, alone. We could have every single moment together."

Adam raises a brow. "You want every moment with me?"

I smile and look away, out to the brush.

"We could, you know. Leave."

I shake my head. "Sure we could."

"You don't believe me?" He questions, stepping out in front of me, stopping me.

"You want to leave Waindale and the pack and everyone?"

Adam sighs. "No. But I would have every moment with you if we did."

"W-We have our moments. We have nights together and mornings—sometimes we see each other at lunch."

He comes even closer. "I'm worried that it won't be enough."

"But it has to be."

Adam's hand brushes down my arm until my own is in his grasp. His thumb rubs the top of my hand, and he watches it as if considering a time when he will no longer be able to. "I suppose this is better than what could have happened—if you never came back."

"I would have made it back sooner or later," I say softly. "I would have never stopped trying to get back to you. I just got lucky, I guess."

Adam envelopes me in his arms. He does this sometimes. He over-thinks what could have been and worries himself. What if I never escaped my father? What if the moon goddess refused to change me? What if he managed to come back? The questions whirl around in his handsome head and torment him to no end. He told me a few months ago about a dream he had, a dream where he woke up alone and asked his mother where I was. She was confused and told him I was still with my father.

"But I'm here, right?" While pressed against him, I clarify, "And I'm not going anywhere without you."

His hold tightens, and his fists the back of my shirt, so I continue.

"The moon goddess wants us to be together. That's why she changed me. I'm sure she wouldn't let anything or anyone tear us apart. You're stuck with me until the day we die."

Adam remains silent, but I hear his breaths.

I move back enough to see his hard, yet distraught face. I caress his cheek and murmur, "I'm not going anywhere. I promise. Now come on, let's go back to the house so we can spend the rest of the day together."

He doesn't let go of my hand until we reach the clearing of his family's property. Just when I think he's easing out of his terrible thoughts, we simultaneously catch sight of a new sapling, and all hopes of a good night fall away. Adam curses under his breath and storms forward, grabbing the sprouted sapling and ripping it from the ground in one brutal yank. He throws it across the field, and I hurry over.

"Hey!" I call. "Hey, you know this doesn't mean he's here. Adam. Adam, nothing happened the other times, and nothing will happen this time. It's just a tree."

"It's him," he breathes.

"Don't let it get to you. Come on, let's just go inside."

Adam clenches his jaw. "He's sending his own message."

As much as I would love to be able to argue otherwise, he's right. It is a message from my father. He's been sprouting these fruit trees every so often—the forbidden fruit I remember so vividly.

Finally, I manage to get us inside. Adam leans against the counter in the kitchen, gripping the countertop as if the stone might crack beneath his pressure. "It doesn't mean he's back. The moon goddess grew those flowers, and I don't think she walked the earth to do so. He's probably doing it because it's the only thing he can do, Adam."

"You aren't his," he says carefully.

My lips press together.

"You aren't his daughter, not anymore. His blood no longer runs through your veins, but he torments you like it does."

"I know, and I don't like it either, but that's who he is."

Adam steps off. "Satan," he mutters.

It's strange to hear it. We've never said that name before even though we have both been convinced for a long time that my father is indeed Satan, or the devil, or Mephistopheles, Hades, Belial, Lucifer, Beelzebub, or whatever other names he may have.

John Aymon.

"Let's just be together, okay?" I ask gently. "I-I don't want to lose our time because of him."

Adam's face softens. He glances to the ground, leaves his anger there and comes around the counter island for me. He nods and manages an, "Okay."

"Can we have a good day? Even if we have to pretend that we're unbothered?"

He nods again.

"And you'll hold me?"

He brings his arms around me.

"And you'll kiss me?"

His lips press against my forehead.

"And you tell me that everything will be okay?"

"Wrenley," Adam says, "it will all be okay, I promise."

I rest my head against his chest and close my eyes. "I like this game," I mumble. "Now tell me you love me."

"I love you more than you can imagine," he tells me, looking down at my blissful face. "Now you have to do what I say."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

I glance up and meet his playful eyes. "You know why."

He acts oblivious, but when I try to leave his grasp, he squeezes my sides, making me yelp. "Hey!" I shout. "I'm walking away now."

When he tries to grab me again, I cry out and dash into the hallway.

"You can try to run away," Adam taunts, "but you won't get very far."

He chases me into the living-room where I threaten, "Then I'll shift, and I'll pounce."

"So will I. You think you can beat me in shifted form? I'm Alpha for a reason."

"Oh, wow, the big bad Alpha," I tease. "You think I'm scared of you? My father is the devil. I was a demigod. You should be the one scared of—"

I scream when he charges at me.

"You're screaming pretty loud for someone who isn't afraid."

My chest rises and falls as I shield myself behind a living chair. Adam waits on the other side of it like a stalking lion. I crouch and say, "I know what you want."

"If you know then say it," his voice sounds from above.

My face heats up. "I could just give you what you want, but I like to make you work for it."

Before he can speak, I spring from behind the chair and hurry for the steps. I hear him right behind me, and just as I reach the top of the staircase, his arms come around me, trapping me.

"Wait, wait," I try to negotiate.

Adam leads me toward our room.

"Okay, but can I have one last thing?" I plea.

He stops in the open doorway and looks down at me. I turn in his hold and say, "Just one thing."

"One more thing," he allows.

I reach up and hold his face in both my hands before pressing my lips to his. In my mind, I memorize every last detail about this exact moment, soaking it all in before pulling back and saying, "Okay, now it's your turn."