Epilogue

A/N: No! I don't want this to end! I had so much fun writing this whole story. Thank you to all of you who have shown me such support with my first story. I appreciate it more than I can put into words. It's because of you guys that I finished this, that I poured my heart into it so thank you. The only reason I begun this story is because of one of my favourite songs that inspired me to write. It's called Wish That Home Were Here by Sam Hart. I love it so much that I even lifted a line almost directly from the song into the story. You can hear it here if you wish: .com/watch?v=QgJG7aYkiYw

There is one more little segment to come. A one shot from Charlies POV and that should be up soon. It would be up now but I got distracted by the Summer in La Push One Shot contest on Jacob Black n Pack and had to write something for it. If you're interested you can check it out here: .com/group/forum/topics/incandescence-1

I am going to start another story very soon.. I will let you guys know more about the upcoming story in the near future I promise :)

Well this is it. I hope you enjoy it.

The heavy bass shook the car frame, making the windows rattle. I held the glass bottle to my lips and swallowed a mouthful of the burning liquid. Hands roamed over my back, fingers fluttering at the skin just above the top of my jeans. With sudden courage those hands moved south, gripping my ass. I giggled and screwed the cap back on the bottle.

"Brighton," I tried to scold but it came out as more of a breathy moan as he pressed his lips to my neck. I ran my fingers through his sandy blonde hair. The neon sign of Brighton's dad's business, Newton's Outfitters, flickered across the parking lot and it made shadows dance in the small space of Brighton's car. His lips moved lower, tracing my collarbone. I straddled him a little harder, the steering wheel pushing into my lower back uncomfortably.

I was so glad I had managed to talk my way out of the bonfire tonight. Brighton and I were at a very important turning point in our relationship. I was fairly certain that he was my boyfriend. Four make out sessions and an accidently-on-purpose boob grab means he was my boyfriend right? I rolled my hips forward into his and grabbed the bottle of amber liquid again. I needed a little bit more courage before asked Brighton just where we stood. He pulled back and watched me swallow the last of the fiery alcohol.

I dropped the empty bottle to the floor and leaned down, my long black hair hiding the rest of the world as I kissed him. His mouth was strong and sweet and tasted like bourbon too. I probably should have been annoyed that he was drinking seeing as he had to drive me home, but his hands on my hips, tracing little circles into the exposed flesh there, quickly made all thoughts of drunk driving flee from my mind. My hands crept down his chest and slipped under his shirt pulling it up. Brighton stiffened.

"Sarah," he gasped as I dropped my head down to his now exposed chest, placing little kisses along the bare skin. We had never gone this far before now. Sure Brighton and I had made out but it had never really gotten this heavy until now. His hands ran through my long hair and my fingers traced their way down his stomach. Maybe I had had too much liquid courage.

"Sarah, we should stop," he whispered in my ear, grabbing my wrist before it could even touch the top button of his jeans.

"I don't want to stop," I told him, reaching for his pants with my other hand.

"I mean it Sarah," he said a little stronger, pulling my hands away from his jeans.

"Why?" I asked, kissing my way along his neck. I felt him shudder and smiled against his salty skin.

"Because your Dad would kill me if he knew what we were doing," he whispered into my ear.

"Well it's not like I'm going to tell him. Besides he doesn't even know where I am, he won't catch us," I told him my mind going back to the time Dad had burst into my room and almost caught me and Brighton kissing. I think he knew though because the way he glared at Brighton I swear he wanted to kill him. Or at least beat the crap out of him. I pressed my mouth back to the skin of Brighton's neck.

"Sarah I really think we should stop," he said again pushing on my shoulder's gently. I scowled at him in the semi-darkness that was lit up every few seconds by the neon sign.

"Are you serious?" I moaned in frustration.

"Hey have you not seen your Dad? The guy is huge and I like the way my face is arranged at the moment. If he finds out I've been defiling his daughter by making out in cars and what not-" I felt myself blush at the what not, "-he would most certainly kill me," Brighton scoffed. I sighed and untangled myself from his lap and struggled into the passenger seat. My head spun from the alcohol.

"Fine just take me home," I mumbled with a frown.

"Hey don't be like that," Brighton sighed, reaching over and touching my cheek. He leaned across the gear shift and kissed me gently, sweetly.

"Sorry," I apologised against his mouth. He smiled at me before sitting back. He twisted the key and the car purred to life. I mashed my finger into the window button, cold air slapping me in the face. Brighton rubbed his hand on the steamed up glass, trying to create a little window to see through. He dropped his hand onto my knee.

I didn't bother with my seat belt and glanced out of my window. I saw a flicker of white and then a boy appeared next to an old graffiti covered telephone box. The light from the street lamp fell across his face and I felt my breath catch in my throat. Brighton was hot; there was no doubt about it. He was athletic and easy going with his sunny blonde hair and clear blue eyes. And he had a killer car which only sweetened the deal. But this boy, this stranger, was beautiful. He was beautiful in a way that seemed out of this world, supernatural almost. And he was looking right at me.

Time seemed to slow as I took in his features. His face was dazzling with high cheekbones and a perfect mouth, even though it was pressed into a firm, disapproving line. His hair glinted bronze in the street light and his skin was so pale I doubted whether it had ever seen the sun. I felt the car move and I tore my eyes away from the beautiful boy.

"Stop!" I cried out and Brighton slammed on the breaks. I flew forward, my hands stopping me from smashing my face into the dashboard.

"What? What is it?" he asked, his voice high, panicking.

"Just stay here a second ok?" I told him, my fingers finding the door latch. I pushed it open and the freezing air of the night flooded into the heated car. I shivered in my tank top.

"Where are you going?" Brighton asked, reaching over the gear shift again and grabbing my hand.

"I just saw someone I knew. I want to say hi," I mumbled, trying to force myself not to blush as I lied right to his face. Brighton glanced behind me.

"You know that guy?" he asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, can you just wait here ok?" I asked him, ripping my hand out of his. I didn't wait for a reply as I kicked the door shut with my foot. I turned and made my way across the parking lot. The stranger hadn't moved an inch, his eyes still on me.

I don't know why I felt so drawn to him, this beautiful boy standing next to a grubby public phone, but I felt like I couldn't control myself as my feet took me closer. I stopped right in front of him, my mouth dropping open.

He was even more stunning close up. His skin seemed to glow and his eyes were coal black. The circles under his eyes were so dark it almost seemed like they were bruised. He moved then, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly, his eyes closing. His breath was cold and seemed to seep into my skin. He smelt wonderful. I couldn't describe how delicious he smelt. I stepped even closer to him. There was barely any space between us. His eyes opened.

One of those pale hands came up and gently touched my face. I gasped at just how cold it was. It felt like his hand had been thrust into a bucket of ice for hours. His fingers gently traced my cheek, barely touching the skin, but touching it just enough that I could feel how hard and smooth his fingers were.

"You have her eyes," he murmured and his voice was like that of a fallen angel, heart breaking with sadness but wonderfully beautiful at the same time. It seemed like he sang even though he whispered. His hand was in my hair now, his perfect face just inches from mine.

"Bella," he whispered before lips, as cold as his hands touched themselves to mine. I gasped at the cold but at the same time heat flooded me. This beautiful boy, this handsome stranger, was kissing me. I pressed myself to his icy chest. His other hand wrapped around my hip, holding me to him with bruising force. I felt like I was drowning. Drowning in his beauty, his addictive scent, his perfect cold lips. I didn't want it to end. My hands fisted themselves into the front of his shirt, pulling myself even closer to him. The cold burned me deliciously.

I felt a hot hand on my shoulder forcing me away from the frozen lips and fingers. I was momentarily stunned as I stumbled back from the fallen angel in front of me, his face so sad and so broken. I glanced up at Brighton. It was him who had pulled me away from the beautiful boy. I felt even more out of it but whether it was from the alcohol or the kiss I wasn't sure. The world was spinning now along with my head.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Brighton's voice was loud and angry. It echoed across the car park. The angel smiled at him.

"I am sorry," he whispered in that perfect voice. His stone cold hand smoothed down the front of his jacket where my fingers hand clung to him. I watched his hand touching the fabric. I shook my head trying to clear it. Brighton was yelling at the boy still but my eyes were locked on his hand.

The wrist was covered in a hideous scar, jagged and ugly looking. It shocked me that this stunning creature could have any kind of a mark on him, marring his perfection. My mouth dropped open as his hand moved and I saw that the scar went all the way around. It was almost like something had ripped the hand from the boy's arm. I could see teeth marks near the jagged skin. I stumbled backward again, nausea growing in my belly. You couldn't reattach a hand that was mangled by an animal like that and only an animal could have caused that kind of damage.

The beautiful boy's eyes were on me now and he covered the disturbing marks, reaching out to touch me. I recoiled away from those cold hands. He seemed different now. He was no longer beautiful; there was something wrong about him. Something dark. I grabbed Brighton's hand.

"Sarah," the once beautiful boy whispered. I felt horror flow down my veins. How did he know my name? His face was twisted and hard, his eyes seemed to be on fire.

"Let's go Brighton," I whispered, turning from the burning angel. I pulled Brighton away, who was still ripping into the boy, toward the still running car. I scrambled into the passenger side and Brighton revved the engine loudly before screeching out of the parking lot. I glanced back at the pay phone but the boy was gone now. I licked my lips; I could still taste his sweetness there, like it had branded me. I shivered again.

"Sarah what the hell was that?" Brighton roared at me as we made our way down the twisting road that lead to La Push.

"I don't know," I whispered. I could still feel those cold hands on my face. I could still see that horrendous scar. I had no idea what had just happened. And what frightened me the most was that even though the boy had scared me I had liked kissing him. I wanted to kiss him again. Brighton was still questioning me angrily as we pulled up outside the little house at the back of the reservation that I had always called home. The lights were all on. I felt drained suddenly and all I wanted was to go to bed.

"I'm sorry Brighton," I mumbled as I got out of the car in a daze. My world tilted as I shut the car door.

"Sarah do you want me to come in. I mean we should talk about this," he said his hands gripping the steering wheel tight. I must have looked like crap if Brighton was offering that. He really was scared of my Dad. I shook my head.

"I'll be ok, I'll call you tomorrow," I told him. Brighton reached over and grabbed my hand again.

"Are you sure? I mean that guy pretty much forced himself on you," he said in a low voice. I felt my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Is that what it looked like? All I could remember was never wanting that cold mouth to stop its assault on me, those cold hands to never stop touching me. I shuddered as the image of that scarred flesh as it flashed in my mind.

"I'm fine," I said as reassuringly as I could. Brighton looked like he didn't believed me but told him again that I would call him as I zipped up my hoddie and turned away from the car. I heard the gravel kick up as he pulled away from the house. For a moment I was in darkness and I swore I saw a flash of white from the trees. My stomach lurched and I quickly launched myself up the steps and into my house.

It was packed. Dad had brought the bonfire back here obviously. People I knew from my whole life were in my kitchen and living room. Dad was standing next to my Uncle Embry in the den. He looked up at me with a smile. I smiled back and tried to weave my way to my room before I was stopped.

"Sarah, how was the studying session?" Dad asked appearing in front of me. Embry had followed him too and Quil looked up at us from the couch. I scowled at Dad. I didn't want to deal with him just now I just wanted to go to my room.

"It was fine Dad," I snapped and tried to force my way past him. Dad's face crinkled with concern.

"Hey what's wrong?" he asked me gently. I could barely hear him over the noise of the television and the chatter of voices. He reached out to me and images of white scarred hands invaded my mind. I jerked away from him, the nausea rolling back into my stomach.

"Don't touch me," I shrieked at him. The party fell silent. The concern in my father's dark eyes turned suspicious. Dad stepped toward me but all I could think was to get out of here. I turned toward the front door. I needed to get out, I couldn't breathe! For what felt like the millionth time that evening a hand reached out, grabbing my arm, forcing me to face the gathering of people. Dad was mad now, his brows coming together like they always did when he was pissed at me.

"Having you been drinking Sarah Black?" Dad asked his hand tight on my arm. I wanted out of here, now. I felt myself shaking, burning with anger and hatred. What right did he have to keep me here? I shoved at Dad, trying to free my arm. His hand felt cold to me too. No more cold hands, no more scarred hands, my mind pleaded.

"So what if I have? What's it to you?" I roared. I couldn't ever remember feeling so angry. In that moment I hated my father for keeping me here. I needed out and he wouldn't let me. Someone had turned the television off and the only sounds were my ragged breath. The expression on Dad's face grew even darker. He leant closer to me, nostrils flaring and I pulled my face away from him. I tried to cover it with my hair but Dad's other hand snaked out and grabbed a hold of my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.

"Who have you been with tonight?" he growled at me. His hand on his arm was gripping me so tight it was starting to hurt. I bit my lip, the sweet taste of the horrid angel still staining my mouth.

"None of your business," I seethed, trying unsuccessfully to pull my face away from him. Dad's expression turned murderous and he towered over me, his long hair free and hanging down the sides of his face. I had never seen him so mad with anybody, especially not me. For a moment I felt frightened. But not enough to reel in the anger that was making my hands shake.

"It is my business; you are my child I have the right to know where you have been and who with!" Dad's voice was so loud it hurt my ears. Embry appeared at his side then, his eyes tight with worry.

"I'm nearly sixteen Dad! I don't need to tell you anything," I yelled so loudly it felt like my throat was on fire. I was trapped, I had to get out of here or I was going to explode. My eyes felt hot and tears fell from them, blurring Dad's face.

"Jake man calm down," Embry said, trying to pull Dad's hand from my arm. It didn't budge.

"Can't you smell that?" Dad hissed, turned to face Embry. Embry shook his head in confusion. Quil appeared then, leaning in close to me as well. I clawed at Dad's fingers, desperate to be free of this room and its tension.

"What?" Quil asked anxiously his face so close to mine I could see the small, nearly invisible freckles that dotted his nose. My vision turned red. I wanted nothing more that to swing out and hurt him for being so close to me.

"She smells like a leech! She smells like Cullen," Dad exploded, turning back to me. I felt another cold hand on my face. I tried to pull away from it but I was still trapped.

"Please no more cold hands," I heard myself moan. There were gasps around the room. My head would not stop spinning, my whole body shook uncontrollably. I was going to throw up.

"She's burning up," Embry hissed, pulling his hand away from my face. I couldn't even feel relived at that. All I could see was my Dad and his face was like the boy's from the car park, so sad but burning at the same time. Heart broken.

"Sarah who were you with tonight?" Dad asked again but I couldn't respond. All I could see was the hurt and anger in his eyes. The hurt in the angel's eyes. Please, just let me go, I begged in my mind, I have to get away from here.

"Did he hurt you?" Dad pressed me and I felt something inside me snap. I didn't care that he was my father and he loved me or that the room was filled with my family. I wanted to hurt him; it was his fault I was in this situation. If only he had just let me go to my room. I glared at my father, never once moving my eyes from his.

"No Dad he kissed me. And I loved it," I spat in his face and my anger reached its peak. It consumed every part of me. The world disappeared then. There were no more hands holding me, no more hurt and angry eyes. There was just blood. Fur and screams and blood.

The legends are true Sarah, the voice told me. It still sounded like my Dad but it couldn't be. Trees blurred past me in my effort to run as fast as possible. Another wolf, different from the one that had stopped me before, darted out from the darkness, forcing me to change direction yet again.

Leave me alone, I screamed. I wanted out of this nightmare with its disembodied voices and cold stone hands.

Sarah we won't hurt you, said a voice that sounded just like Embry. I could see Embry in my mind, holding my hand on first beach when I was little, laughing at me as the surf got me wet.

You're not Embry, I yelled at the voice in my head. Another wolf darted out in front of me cutting off my escape. I could feel those cold lips on mine again, the burning sweetness invading my senses. Anger, I could feel anger that wasn't mine, inside my head. I was crazy. I wanted out of this! My Dad's face swam in front of my mind and I felt a yearning I had never felt before. I needed my father; I needed him to tell me everything was going to be ok.

I want my Dad. Daddy, where are you? I cried out. I wanted him to hold and stroke my hair me like he did when I was little.

I'm right here honey, the voice that sounded so like his whispered through my mind. I came to a stop. My throat burned. I wanted to cry but my head turned sky ward, a long loud howl forcing itself out of my lungs. The russet wolf, so much larger than I was, appeared next to me. It dropped its head, leaning it's forehead to my side. It felt comforting. I leant into the wolf.

Your ok Sarah, I've got you, my Dad's voice murmured soothingly and it felt like it came from the wolf next to me. Another howl was torn from my throat as I leant into the wolf at my side. As I leant into my father. I could see the scars again, feel the coldness of his touch.

His hand, what was wrong with his hand? I asked frantically. Memories that weren't mine exploded in my mind's eye.Burning sweetness sticky in my nose, a metallic screech as the angel's hand was torn from its arm. Anger, uncontrollable anger. I saved her, black rage and the overwhelming desire to kill. I saved her.

I attacked him years ago, my Dad's voice interrupted the disturbing images, making them melt away.

What am I? I asked him in a whimper as the howl died in my mouth.

Werewolf, he whispered back. I sunk to the floor next to him and he folded himself into my side.

I had gone insane, I was certain. But the wolf next to me put a heavy paw on mine and I let myself go. The other wolves appeared in the trees but I didn't care. I closed my eyes and leant my face into my father's side.

Werewolf.

I sat on the couch staring off into space. I could hear my father moving around in the kitchen and the beeping of the microwave. He cursed under his breath as something hot burned his hand. It was still freaking me out that I could hear his heartbeat and he was in another room. Dad wandered out from the kitchen and placed a bowl of what seemed to be six packets of two minute noodles in front of me. I didn't touch them even though I was starving.

"Sorry Sarah, I was supposed to go grocery shopping yesterday but..." he trailed off. He couldn't go grocery shopping because I hadn't been able to pull myself out of wolf form for four days. Dad had stayed with me the entire time. He sighed and picked up the bowl, shoving it into my hands. I grabbed the fork and placed a small amount in my mouth. The second the noodles hit my tongue I was shovelling the food down. Dad pressed a bottle of water into my hand and I guzzled the two litre bottle in seconds, my breathing laboured.

He didn't speak while I ate and I didn't try to. I was so hungry. I could never remember being so hungry in my life. Dad tried to take the nearly empty bowl out of my hands and I couldn't control the growl that escaped my lips or the shaking of my hands. He backed up, showing me his hands like they do in movies when someone pointed a gun at someone. I scooped up the last of the noodles before dumping it onto the coffee table. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Feel better?" Dad asked me gently. I nodded but didn't look at him. There was still blood on the white rug under the coffee table. When I had phased I had ripped my father's arm open and blood had gone everywhere. The back door was smashed too where I had bolted my way out of the house, desperate to flee.

"I'm sorry for hurting you Dad," I mumbled, my eyes still on the blood stain. I glanced at his arms, they were smooth and without a single mark on them. My gaze was drawn back to the dark red bloodstain.

"It's ok, I know how hard it is to control yourself when you first phase," he said reassuringly.

"Why didn't you tell me about this, you know before?" I asked, tearing my eyes from the bloodstain and to my Dad's face. He smiled at me but it was a sad smile. He reached out slowly, brushing a long strand of my hair from my face. I grimaced knowing I was going to have to cut it off later this evening.

"Only one girl had ever phased before and that was Leah. If you had been a boy I would have expected you to phase, but I didn't even think about it especially since your mother-" he cut himself off, clearing his throat "Especially since you don't have the gene on both sides like Leah did."

"Why do you do that?" I asked him. He had told me all about Mom but he could never say her name. It was always she or her but never Mom or Bella. I glanced up at him and his face was carefully neutral. He didn't respond for such a long time that I gave up on it.

"So that was your first time in ages?" I asked him even though I had caught glimpses of it in his mind during the last four days.

"Yeah, I gave up phasing when you were eight but I was almost as out of control as you were I guess," he explained, looking relived I had changed the subject. I nodded at him and played with the silver fork that was still in my hands.

"And the boy?" I whispered, seeing his pale face in the street light again. It was monstrous to me now instead of beautiful.

"Vampire," Dad murmured, pulling the fork gently from my hand as I gripped the pointy end so hard it cut into my palm. I watched in disbelief as the little cuts disappeared before my eyes. I shook my head, my long hair falling over my shoulders.

"He called me Bella," I told him ignoring the way Dad's eyes tightened with anger or pain I wasn't sure.

"He was in love with her when we were young," Dad explained. I looked at him questionably and he took a deep breath. The room grew steadily darker as he explained about how my Mom had been in love with Edward Cullen, a vampire, but had chosen my father, a werewolf, over Edward instead. The all too familiar nausea crept back.

"How could she be with a vampire?" I asked incredulously.

"How could you kiss a vampire?" Dad shot back and this time I knew it was anger in his eyes. His hands trembled. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, and visibly forced himself to calm down.

"It just happened Dad, I swear. I just couldn't stop myself," I told him, my face screwing up as I tried to convey the feeling. I had felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame, like a starving person to food. I gave up, I couldn't explain it. But my new body hated what I had done. That I had allowed something so wrong to touch me in such an intimate way. I shuddered violently.

"Will anyone else phase?" I asked him thinking of Terry, three years older than me and always so sweet and nice.

"If the blood suckers stick around then yes," Dad said softly but it didn't hide the fury in his voice, "But we've checked and they seem to be gone." Dad's hand reached out again, touching my face, wiping away a tear I hadn't even felt fall.

"I hate them. I'm like this because of them," I growled looking into his eyes. It stabbed at my heart that Dad's face was heartbroken again, because of me.

"Trust me Sarah, I never wanted this life for you. I wanted to protect you from it, for you to just be a happy normal teenage girl," he told me, wiping away more tears. I had never seen my father this dejected before. He was normally so happy, always full of smiles for me, willing to listen to anything I had to say.

As long as I could remember it had just been me and him. I had missed having a mother when I was young but Dad had been able to fill that gap becoming both my mother and my father. And I loved him for it. He was always there for me. I wished more than once that he would meet someone though so he could share his smiles with someone more than just me.

Dad did not have a real girlfriend or anything; he never had as far as I knew. His women were only ever in the picture for a little while and none of them were ever really a mother to me. The only constant woman in my Dad's life besides me was Leah. I had kind of hoped something would blossom between them but it never had, at least not while I had been around. I mean he didn't wear his wedding ring anymore, didn't that mean he was ready to move on?

"Dad how come you never moved on with anyone else?" I asked him quietly. Dad and I told each other almost everything but this was one subject that was never brought up, like an unspoken agreement.

"I just haven't found the right person for me yet. But she's out there," he told me, speaking just as quietly as I had.

"You mean like an imprint?" I asked my face screwing up in disgust. I hated the idea of imprinting. I didn't want to imprint and I definitely didn't want my Dad to imprint either.

"No not like that," he said with a chuckle.

"So what about Auntie Leah?" I asked slyly. Dad's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"What about her?" he asked slowly.

"Could she make you happy?"

Dad looked away with a small smile on his face. His fingers came up and twisted into the long ponytail. It was a nervous habit of his that he always did when he didn't want to answer something. He looked down at me and I gave him a little smile that matched his.

"I'm not supposed to give you this until next month but I'm sure she wouldn't mind, considering all that has happened," Dad muttered, leaning forward and yanking the drawers of the coffee table open. He shuffled random objects around until he found a shiny silver disc and a little beaded bag. The disc was an old DVD disc. I hadn't seen one of these since I was a kid. Everything was on microchips now. Dad pushed the disc into my hands. I read the familiar messy writing.

Happy Sixteenth Birthday Sarah.

My Mom's handwriting. I ran my fingers over my name. Mom had left me cards for every birthday and all of them were the along the same lines. I love you, I miss you and I hope you are happy. Take care of your father for me.

Dad opened the small bag in his large hands and pulled out a small bracelet. It had a wolf pendant hanging from it, the exact same colour as my skin. As my father's skin as well. He took my wrist gently and snapped the bracelet in place. He passed me a small note and I read it quickly.

Jacob,

Please give this to Sarah when she is old enough. I want her to have something of mine against her skin, something that meant so very much to me. I love you.

Bella.

I crushed the note to my chest. The wolf pendant swung on my wrist. This was hers, her bracelet. I didn't really have anything that belonged to my mother. Until now. My heart swelled.

"What is all this?" I asked looking up at Dad.

"I made that pendant for her when we were kids. And she recorded a whole bunch of stuff before she passed for me and you," he told me, opening the plastic case swiftly "I never watched your disc though Sarah. You can watch it here or in your room. I'll leave you alone." Dad shoved the silver disc back into my hands I felt panic well up in me.

"No!" I cried out as he turned away, "Please can you stay with me?"

Dad looked at me funny before pulling the disc from my fingers. He fiddled with the ancient DVD player that he had insisted on keeping and now I knew why. He shoved the disc in the machine and snatched up the remote. I watched him step over the coffee table and sit down next to me.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his fingers back in his hair, twisting it. I nodded and moved closer to him. Dad let me slide under his arm and I curled into his side. I hadn't sat with him like this since I was young. The screen flickered a bright blue before a pink nursery came to life on the screen. The picture was fuzzy to my eyes. I was used to the high digital quality of recording devices available now, not the grainy ones of sixteen years ago.

I recognized the room immediately. It was my room to this day only the pink walls were white now and there was a bed where the crib used to be. I still had my mother's old rocking chair in there though.

I knew the pale woman on the screen was my mother. I had seen photos of her before. I had found an old chest under my Dad's bed once while he was at work and I was home from school. It was full of pictures of her, little bits and pieces of my mother stored away in a wooden chest. His wedding ring had been in there too, wrapped in a purple scarf.

"Hi Sarah, happy birthday," my mother said from the flat screen. I gasped. I had seen her face, read her hand writing but I had never heard her voice. I couldn't remember her voice. But when she spoke then she sounded so much like me it frightened me a little.

Everyone had always said that I looked like my Dad and I agreed. We had the same long hair, the same skin colour. Our straight noses and high cheekbones were identical. But my father had always insisted that I was just like my Mom. Watching her shift in her chair on the screen, the way she smiled at the camera I finally saw what my father had seen all these years. We were so alike, me and my Mom.

"I know that your Dad will have been giving you your cards but I wanted to speak to you, just this once," my mothered continued. She had no hair; the bright purple head scarf from the chest was wrapped around her skull. She was skinny, too skinny. Her arm moved and I saw the flash of gold of her wedding band, the wolf bracelet that was now on my wrist slipped down her arm. My Dad's heartbeat sped up under my ear, his hand stroking my hair just like I had wanted him to do four days ago.

"I know you are all grown up now Sarah and I am sorry I'm not there. I'm sorry I couldn't take you to your first day of school or braid your hair. I'm sorry that I'm not there to stop your father from being way too overly protective when you go on your first date. I'm sorry you had to grow up without a mother," she said gently, tucking her feet under herself. She smiled at the camera and it was my smile.

"But I know your Dad is there for you and that he will make sure you are happy and looked after. I miss you Sarah, I miss you so much. I would have given anything to be there by your side, watching you grow." I felt a hand on my face as Dad brushed away the wetness from my face again. His eyes were bright with unshed tears but he was smiling at me too. We both turned back to the TV as my Mom spoke again.

"I love you Sarah. I know that you will look after your Dad for me and make sure he is happy. I know that you will both be happy together. I love you so much and I hope that all of your dreams come true. You deserve it," Mom whispered, wiping tears from her face as well. I watched her point a little grey remote at the camera. I expected the screen to turn back to the blue one from before but nothing happened. A frown came to her face.

"Uh I hate this stupid thing," she muttered, reaching up toward the camera. Her face turned from anger to shock as she dropped out of the frame with a thump.

"Ow!" her voice yelped from off screen.

"Are you ok honey?" my Dad's voice yelled from somewhere else in the house on screen. Mom scrambled back onto her feet, her face bright red.

"Yeah," she yelled back, rubbing her butt where she had fallen "Just stubbed my toe!" She turned back to the camera her face beet red.

"You better not be laughing at me young lady," Mom threatened but a big smile was on her face. I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips. Dad's chest was shaking under my ear and Mom was laughing too. We were all laughing together.

"I love you Sarah," she whispered and blew a kiss. Her smiling flushed face disappeared. I stared at the TV screen for a long time. Dad's hands in my hair never stopped their comforting stroking.

"Do you remember her?" Dad whispered in my ear.

"I don't know. I mean I think I do but I'm not sure," I told him. I closed my eyes trying to concentrate.

"I remember the smell of strawberries and gentle hands. I remember her touching my hair like you are now," I told him opening my eyes slowly.

"She was scared you wouldn't remember her," Dad sighed with relief. I curled closer to him.

"Would she have been scared of me because of what I am? I mean I knew she loved you and knew what you were Dad but still..." I trailed off, not daring to look up into his face. Dad's fingers found their way under my chin like before but this time they were gentle. I could pull away if I wished. I didn't.

"Your mother loved you with all of her heart," he told me, his voice strong and sure, "she knew there was a chance of the werewolf gene being passed down but that didn't stop her. She would have accepted you werewolf or not." His fingers left my chin but I didn't look away from him.

"Do you miss her?" I whispered.

"Every day. But I can see past it now. I have let her go, as much as I can," Dad replied, his face open and honest. His fingers trailed through my hair again. I knew he would hate to see it all be cut off as well.

"Are you happy?" I asked him, my heart in my throat. My Dad had done everything in his power during my whole life to make me happy. I just wanted the same for him as well.

"Yes, because of you Sarah, I'm happy," he assured me and I felt my heart slow down. He was happy and so was I. I smiled at him.

"I love you Dad," I told him and meant every word. He smiled at me and it was a sunny smile. It was my smile, the one he always gave me when he was happy with me. It was my favourite smile

"I love you too Sarah."

I was still learning about myself and how to handle the fact that not only was a fifteen year old girl without a mother but that I was a fifteen year old girl who was a werewolf as well. But I wasn't frightened. I knew my father would protect me from everything he could, from pale angels to imprints and normal human stuff as well. I may not have had the chance to know my mother but would never be alone. He held me tighter on the couch.

I felt safe in his arms.