“It was the morning after I…after I turned for the first time.”
Thirteen years old. Reeling from the discovery of his genetic code, a code he had never wanted. And on top of that devastation his father had piled a story of near-death, the attacker his favorite uncle. She cupped one hand around the back of his neck and tried to speak gently, though at the moment she wanted to give Robert a piece of her mind.
“Trevor, listen to me. Suppose your uncle had been driving a pickup truck and got in a fender bender when he was a teenage driver, and your dad’s response was to tell you never to drive a pickup truck. Would that make any sense?”
“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good analogy.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing I can’t go to the dealership and shop for better DNA.”
She leaned back to grip his shoulders with both hands, tried to hold the gaze that kept ducking hers. “There’s no better DNA than what you were born with.”
“Kelsey.” His cheeks reddened.
“No, I mean it. You’re an apex, Trevor. Top of—” No, not the food chain. Even used figuratively that phrase would only reinforce the story he’d internalized. “You’re at the very top.”
He shook his head, wouldn’t meet her eyes. Kelsey took his face between her palms and held him still. His bottom lip trembled.
She whispered, “There is nothing wrong with you, babe. Not one single thing.”
To prove it, she kissed him. Not an urgent kiss, no heat of need. She made this kiss gentle, tried to pour into it the comfort he needed. Tried to show him she was here. He cupped the back of her head and leaned in, and then both of them slowly drew back. Words were needed right now. She had to replace this narrative that had been burning a record groove in his head for the last fourteen years.
“Forget my bad analogy. Here’s what’s true: you’re twenty-seven years old. A man, conscientious and good. You’re careful with other people, even more now than you were nine years ago. So if you travel, you’ll do it responsibly.”
He shook his head, but his certainty had melted in the last few minutes. “If something goes wrong…if I don’t make it to confinement, it won’t end for me the way it did for Alan. There’ll be nobody who can hold me, Kels. Nobody who can protect whoever might be there. From me.”
“What nearly happened to your uncle is his story, Trevor. It isn’t yours.”
“He’s family.”
“But he isn’tyou.”
He covered his face, hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know. I can’t…I try to imagine it, going somewhere with you, booking flights and seeing places, and instead I end up imagining Alan getting away and killing somebody.”
“And yourself,” she said quietly. “Getting away and killing somebody.”
“Yeah.”
She took his hands in hers again. They were warm as always. Though all wolves shared the same heightened body temperature compared to humans, she’d always imagined Trevor’s deep passion coursing through his veins like fire. She tugged his hands into her lap, and he lifted his head.
“Do you think…? Could you find out if other wolves are able to fly, to—to take long trips? And set up a safe place at their destination?”
“I’m on it,” she said.
He squeezed her hands tight. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
Attempting the research himself might very well send him into a panic. He still hovered on the edge of it, still seemed unable to let go of the vivid story that had conjured images in his head for more than half of his life.
“Trevor, there’s something you need to know.”
He nodded.
“Okay first, just to confirm: you ended things between us because of this story. Because I wanted to travel the world, and you believed you couldn’t go with me.”
Another nod, this one joined by a frown. “I told you. Back then.”
