Epilogue

Hazel

As Pierce lifts the tree in front of the windows, I watch him. Cocoa steams in my cup, its chocolatey notes singing through my senses. Vivid recollections of him and a similar tree last year run through my brain on a loop. It had been his first effort to draw me out of myself.

After solidifying we couldn't be without one another, while fucking desperately within the walls of this place, we'd had the best Christmas. He'd gotten me a puppy, and I'd gotten him a new gun. One we'd played with on the new rug in the living room beneath the dancing Christmas lights of the tree we'd finished together. I was reborn in his arms, and he was set free.

No longer does he worry if he has personality slips because I can handle all facets of him.

"You guys are out of vodka," Cam says, stepping into the room and shaking the bottle in front of her to emphasize its emptiness.

I grin as Pierce turns and eyes her. "I wonder how that happened."

She scoffs. "Hey, it's the Holiday season. One must imbibe properly."

I chuckle, and Pierce's blue eyes roll over me from head to toe, leaving a hazy tingle in their wake.

"So, more people have called about making the book into either a movie or a television series. Are you still opposed to it?" Cam asks, dropping onto the ottoman in front of my chair. The fire is roaring in the hearth to the left of us, and I look into its orange glow, and let my mind wander.

I shrug and sigh. "I just don't know that anyone would do it justice, Cam."

It had been a feat to introduce my stalker boyfriend to my agent best friend. She'd been leery, especially because she was certain he looked at me as if I'm something to possess. But what she doesn't understand is that's what I love about him most.

Knowing I'm his is the greatest, most overwhelming thing I have in my life. And I think he'd say the same. I went from a Christmas where I lost it all. Even my self-worth. To a Christmas that a stalker gave me back my sense of self.

Sure, I hadn't told her what happened in this living room. That I'd stabbed my rapist in a fit of rage, and Pierce had disposed of his body somewhere unknown to me. And even though I know it's wrong, my center heats at the idea of what he'd done for me. How he'd handed me my revenge on a fucking platter. And he'd been willing to kill for me. Still is.

And no matter how rough we play; I know he'd never harm a fucking hair on my head. And that is the side of him that makes me feral.

My book—Death's Game—hit the best-seller lists, and Cam had forgotten all about the chapters I didn't get to her. Because I'd thrown them in the trash. Living between the lines of light and dark is something that makes me happy. Writing releases trauma from within, and the written realm is where I shine. It isn't found behind bright pink covers with cartoon characters on the front.

And she and I are on the same page now. Except for when it comes to film adaptations.

"Come on! We could be famous! Like, really famous!" she laments, and Pierce smirks and rolls his eyes at her.

Something he's also taken to doing in her presence.

"I am already as famous as I can stand. And reader perception is big to me, Cam. Film and television adaptations are great, but they never do the book justice. You know this. And each and every one of my readers needs to have their own experience within those pages. I need their experience to be intact and untainted by liberties some half-wit producer is going to take."

She sighs and nods in agreement. "Fine. I had to try, right? When will you have chapters for the second book to me?"

Pierce meets my eyes with a heated gaze. I'd caught him sneaking into the chapters I have finished in my laptop last night. His greedy eyes had been gobbling up words I hadn't been ready to share yet. And a fun game of hide-and-seek had come of it.

I lick my lips, and he turns back around. "By the end of next week, I think. I need to finish up a chapter that I'm on, but I'm a little uncertain as to directionality of where I want to take the chapter end."

"I'm sure you'll get it. You're a fucking genius, Haze. I want you to know that. I'm only sorry I didn't entertain your dark side a long time ago." She stands and moves into the kitchen. After I moved here permanently, only keeping my New York City apartment for when I have to go into the city for meetings or book tours, she'd moved to be closer to me. As my agent, she knew she didn't have to. We could work remotely with no issue. But as a friend, she needed to. And I'm thankful she's closer.

I'm sure Pierce isn't, but he endures. And sometimes, I see him grinning at the both of us, like he enjoys watching us both happy and free.

"Well, I'm going to get home. Thank you guys for dinner, it was lovely, as always."

I stand and put down my cocoa to hug her. "Of course, I'll see you next weekend, right? That's when you're back from the city?" I ask.

She pulls out of our hug, nodding. "Yes, I'll come by as soon as I've shaken off the tiredness from the drive." She smirks has she reaches between us and places both hands on my stomach. "Bye-bye, little bambino. Auntie Cam-Cam will see you next weekend."

Pierce's awaiting smile is plastered on his face when I look over toward him. He's holding an ornament near the tree, frozen in place as he takes in the moment.

"Drive safe," he tells Cam, placing the ornament and meeting her at the front door to open it for her.

"Keep my girls safe," Cam tells him sternly, as if she could hold her own against him if he didn't.

Pierce nods. "I will."

* * *

Pierce's fingersswirl over my stomach. His body is draped over my legs on the bed, his chin buried in my core as he rubs my stomach over and over and talks to it.

When I first realized that one too many romps with my stalker had caused my period to be absent, I'd panicked. How could a man like him be a father, was the first thought that rummaged in my brain. But then, I thought, how could he not.

He has so much love to give.

In the year since we've met, he's been slipping less and less. To the point that most days, he seems like one man, beneath one flesh. And even when he slips, his dangerous side calls to me, like I'm the moth and he's the burning flames of hell.

"Do you think she'll have your red hair?" he asks absently.

I shrug, my full breasts bouncing. "I don't know. Yours is pretty dark, it might cancel my genes out."

His eyes go wide. "Fuck, I hope not."

My insides grow warm at the idea of him wanting our daughter to have my traits. That he loves me so much he'll revel in having two of us running through the halls of his spooky home.

"Well, only a few months more and we'll see."

"I'll miss it, you know?" he says, moving onto his knees and crawling over toward me.

"Miss what?" I ask breathlessly. I know when he's up to something devious, and so do my insides. Molten lava moves through my veins as he grabs both sides of my stomach firmly in his grasp.

"This. Seeing you with my child in your stomach does something to me, Haze. That my greedy little whore is filled with my DNA floating within her. It's intoxicating almost."

His admittance sounds a little disturbing, but still a whimper tries to leave my throat.

"The watcher, his victim, and their child," I murmur, and he laughs, his darkening eyes coming back to reality.

"Is that your next book?" he jokes, leaning down and capturing my lips.

When he pulls back, I say, "It could be. What do you think?"

He trails his fingers over my hardening nipples before pinching each one. They're sore from the hormones racing through me, and the tinge of added pain makes my pussy dampen even more between my thighs. "I think that you're going to be too busy with our baby and me that you won't have the time to write for the masses."

"Oh, yeah?" I ask on a moan when his fingers find my center hot and ready for him.

"So fucking soaked for me. Predictable, yet refreshing. Such a good girl for me, aren't you, Hazel?" he teases, nipping at my lip as he swirls his fingers over my swollen clit.

My body has been changing, but each new facet of me makes him rabid. And it only makes me feel sexier. It's made my pregnancy something I've enjoyed. Even with all the growing pains.

"I'm always your good girl. Always ready for you, stalker."

He chuckles darkly before slipping two fingers inside me. I arch off the bed to meet them, to deepen their touch inside.

"And always a greedy little slut, too. That'll never change."

"Never," I rasp out.

He grinds his palm against my clit, driving me wild with need, and I cry out. Begging isn't beneath me. My body is always needy for him. But since getting pregnant, it's increased tenfold. I can't get enough of him. Can't get enough of his intoxicating touch.

I grind with him, frantically panting and whimpering for more.

"You're very amped up tonight, little ember," he says, lifting off me enough to stroke his cock over my stomach.

It's entrancing to watch, and my mouth drops open as my lids grow heady. "It's your fault. Always your fault," I lament, and he grins. "What are you doing? I need you inside me," I add in a begging tone.

"I'm marking what's mine. That's what I'm doing. And then afterward, I'm going to fuck your tight little cunt until you cry pretty little tears for me."

His words rouse my body's heat to another level, and I lift my hands to my breasts, stimulating my nipples to relieve some of the tension he's building.

His hand works his cock haphazardly as his eyes take me in and his other hand fucks me languidly. He's losing his pacing inside me because he's close to coming.

"Look at how good of a girl you are for me. Waiting to be covered in your stalker's cum like a good little slut. I'm so proud of you, you know that?"

I nod as I watch through heavy lids as he thrusts into his hand. One of my hands slides down my front and finds the clit he's forgotten in his haze of arousal. I work myself into a frenzy as I watch him try to edge off the eventual release. His abs are tightening in waves, his back arching in a beautiful shape, and his mouth is hung wide open. His hand leaves my center as he fists himself with both.

"Who's babe is this growing in your womb, little ember?" he grunts.

"Yours, stalker. It's yours," I breathe, nearing climax as I slip fingers inside myself. It's a chore over my growing stomach, but I manage.

"That's right. My little dark princess growing within the womb of my queen," he shouts as ribbons of cum shoot from his cock onto my stomach, marking it as his in the most primal way. His answering growl to seeing his seed spread across my flesh sends me into the abyss of bliss with an answering scream of pleasure.

"Good fucking girl," he says, dropping his cock into the mess he made on my stomach and swirling it within it before moving toward my face with it. "Now, clean me off so I can mark the rest of you."

Taking his cock into my mouth, I swirl my tongue over him, feeling him harden again against my tongue as I clean the flavor of his cum from his soft flesh.

"Now, do you want to play a game, little ember?"

I nod frantically, forgetting the last few moments of fun. Because I know what's coming is going to be dark and dangerous, and it's just what I need.

"Good. Now run from me!"

My feet are pattering against the mahogany floors in a flash, my hands holding my cum-covered belly as I move to find a hiding place.

"Don't let me find you, little ember! You know what'll happen!"

I squeal as I turn a corner and hide right behind a pillar, knowing I'll be found out quickly, as I'm in plain sight.

But that's the point.

Because the monster's bite is too alluring to hide from. And I choose not to shrink away from the shadows anymore. I live in them.