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He nodded. “Good. That’s good. It’s me, Robbie.” He took a deep breath. “It’s me. It’s Kelly.” And I said, “Who?” His face crumpled immediately, and I was submerged in the blue, drowning in an ocean that rose around me. He hurt. He hurt so fucking bad that I didn’t know how he could stand it. “Kelly,” he whispered. “I’m Kelly.”
“What makes a man?” Her face was covered in shadow. Her hand never left my hair. “If all he knows is stripped away, what is it that remains?”
“What remains is a broken heart shattered like so much glass. Pieces are missing, and the ones that are left don’t fit like they used to. But still it beats, because no matter what is taken away, no matter what is lost, it needs to continue. To survive. You are a survivor, Robbie. And not even magic can take that away from you.”
Carter sighed. “You know, you take this Werewolf Jesus thing a little too far.” He twirled his hand in the air above him. “Take this bread, all of you, for it is my body. Eat of me and—” “Your little brother doesn’t seem to mind eating my bread.” Carter looked horrified, even as Joe screeched incredulously.
“I’ll save you,” I promised him. “Just hold on. I am going to bring you so much soup, you won’t even believe it.”
He burned so bright. It was all grass and lake water and sunshine, and I wanted nothing more than to have it for my own.
I kissed him. Again. For the first time. His eyes were open, and my eyes were open, and I was drowning in him, drowning in this, and I didn’t want to be saved. I wanted it to close over my head and pull me down until all there was in this world was him.
“Because you filled a hole in me I didn’t even know was there. You make me complete. You make me happy. I see you, Robbie. I see you.”
And here was home, in a person so fierce and wild that I wanted him to tear me apart.
“I see you. For all that you are. For all that you’re not. And I never want to lose sight of you again.”
“We are literally the gayest pack that has ever existed,” Rico said to no one in particular. “I see no problem with this.”
Impossibly, ridiculously, Carter whispered through a mouthful of blood, “Oh shit. I think I’m bisexual.”
It wasn’t fierce, the way he loved me. It wasn’t the burning fire of passion. It was heavy and soft. It was love unlike anything else I’d felt.
