THE END. This is the first story I have completed!

I want to thank everyone who wrote such nice things. And I hope that everyone who reads this story in the future continues to like it.

I had a blast. Hope you did too.

The sixth months since the attack had passed in a haze of diapers, toys and werewolf debauchery. And yet, with each day, Bran grew happier. They had married in a private ceremony, and the day alone had made Bran the happiest man in Aspen Creek.

Of course, their daughter, was another constant source of joy. Mackenzie, or Mack, as she was called, already had her mother's disposition. She loved playing with the wolves, no matter how big or mean they pretended to be. She would pull on their tales, and laugh hysterically when they'd start chasing her. Even Asil, who had grown unstable in the past few years, was no match for Mack. When he'd snarl at her, she simply whap him on the muzzle once and he would be goo at her feet.

Bran ruefully admitted that his daughter was already quite the trouble maker. He would often catch her in the act of doing something or causing trouble. In an instant, she'd flash him her big blue eyes and he would melt. Piper teased that he was already wrapped around her finger. She'd even remarked at how the trouble would only grow once Mack was a teenager. Bran had shuddered at the damage she'd undoubtably cause but mostly he tried to focus on getting her to two years old.

Besides, one teenage was plenty enough. Brady was nearly seventeen now and much to Piper's dismay, he was refusing to go to college. They would often fight about it, resulting in Piper threatening to hog tie and abandon him on some college campus. Brady ignored the sentiments and flat-out refused.

Bran figured the kid wouldn't admit it, but the real reason Brady didn't want to go was his hesitance to leave her. Having already been alone for so long, Bran was sure the boy didn't care to try it again. No matter, Piper was refusing to give up, especially now that the adoption papers had been signed.

Bran still wasn't sure how it all happened, he mused, one day as he sat on the couch with his family.

Two years ago, he had been minding his own business, walking down the streets of Detroit, completely oblivious to what was about to happen. Piper had hit him like a Mack truck. She had destroyed the old Bran and had rebuilt his life into something that made him happier than words could describe. Two years, he mused. Two years and here he was, in their house, with the love of his very-long-life (as she helpfully clarified), their baby daughter and their adopted teenager.

He chuckled at how ridiculous the old Bran would have found that notion.

His wife moaned from the seat next to him, as she bit into the chocolate-chunk ice-cream. Bran smiled at the happy sounds she was making in the back of her throat, throwing an arm around her and nuzzling her neck.

She smelled just as good as she did that first day as she held a gun to his temple.

"Don't mind me, Squints," Piper chuckled, "I'm just living my happily ever after here."

He smiled at her, genuinely, so unbelievably thankful he'd met her that day on those steps. "Me too," Bran said, glancing toward the teenager making funny faces at the baby on the floor, his daughter. "Me too."

"A writer only begins a book. A reader finishes it."

-Samuel Johnson