Chapter Thirty-Two

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

She wanted to say a thousand things to Seth once they were in the relative safety of the Chevy. And she felt pretty sure he wanted to say a thousand things to her. She heard him take a breath, of the kind you did when words were supposed to follow. But no words did.

They flew in almost silence, until they got about halfway back to her home. And even then he only broke it to say, "Stop here a second."

So she did. She landed the car in a clearing in what looked like the middle of the forest. Then got out when he did—despite not having the slightest idea why he wanted to be here. In fact, for a moment she genuinely wondered if this was some kind of punishment for turning him into a werewolf. Like he was gonna pants her, then leave her stranded somehow. Or maybe worse.

I probably deserve worse , she thought.

And doubly so, when he revealed his actual motive: the tree. Their hollowed-out tree. Still with the blue tarpaulin over the entrance, in a way that made her heart clench and her breath catch in her throat. She had to turn away to hide the tears that were in her eyes, immediately, at the idea that he must have looked after the tree all this time.

And then she followed him in, and oh .

Oh, they had been right, somehow they had been right.

Because inside, it was magical .

It was twice as large as it should have been, and filled with everything you'd ever want to see inside an enchanted tree. There were toadstools for seats, a blanket of stars for lights, a carpet of moss far greener than moss ever usually was. And thicker, too. The second she made her way inside, her shoes sank in almost up to the laces. Each step felt like heaven.

And there was more, so much more. A small stove with a chimney, shelves filled with fantastical-looking books, tiny cabinets brimming with all sorts of things. As she stood there taking it all in, Seth rummaged through one of them. Then finally came up with a jar of jam, and cookies wrapped in wax paper. Some cheese too, of a kind she had never seen before. And a heel of bread that smelled so divine her mouth watered.

She sat down on one of the toadstools before he had even gestured.

Then she watched as he boiled a tiny kettle, and brewed and stewed and sieved. He made her a teeny cup of tea, and handed it to her. And it was only when she reached for it that she managed to stop marveling at everything long enough to speak. "I should be taking care of you, Seth," she said.

But she could tell he didn't get it, even before he replied.

He looked at his filthy shirt and his healed but blood-smeared hands instead.

"Hey, I'm okay. They didn't do anything to me. It was mostly just insults and tying me up and trying to use my blood to replicate whatever potions you gave me. I really don't think they thought through any of what they did," he said.

Because he was a fool. A lovely, lovely fool.

"And that's good, Seth, it's really good, but whatever they did isn't the reason I think so," she explained, and now he winced. Now he looked away.

"Yeah, but I was kind of hoping we could skip right over that."

"We already have skipped over that. For way too long."

"And it was working fine. We were best buds again. Everything was cool. In fact, it was so cool that you somehow believed I would never do that thing they said I did to you, despite having photographic evidence that I had."

He looked at her then. Same way he had on the stage—full of astonishment and gratitude and awe. Like she was something so special and generous. Even though she wasn't at all. She was terrible, and he needed to know that.

"Because you're a good person, who earned my trust."

"So now you don't want to? Now you can't, because I lied?"

"Seth, I don't feel like you lied. I feel like you tried to spare my feelings."

He sighed then. Shook his head. And finally looked at her. Gaze fierce, and more full of warmth than she deserved. "It wasn't about your feelings, Cass. It was about what I knew you'd do once you had them. Because let's be honest, if I had said, after that medicine you made worked and I put two and two together about everything, ‘Hey, I think you might have accidentally turned me into a werewolf,' you would not have been chill about it. You would have run around doing everything you could to make it up to me, up to and including forgiving me for what I did to you. And I didn't want that," he said.

Though all that did was confuse her. "But you did want that."

"No, I really did not."

"Seth, all you've wanted is to be friends again."

"Yeah, the real way. The actual forgiveness way. Not some phony thing you only do because you feel bad," he protested, intensely enough that she had no response. She simply let his words sink in, and by the time they had he was calmer. "If we became buddies again, I wanted to earn it. I wanted to earn your trust and your love. I never wanted to wonder if that trust and love only existed because you felt you owed it to me."

After which, she still couldn't speak. But now it was for a different reason. Now she wasn't just taken aback. She was being swallowed whole by her own heart. She had to simply live in that love for him, for a long moment, before she could get any words out.

And the first ones she managed were still tear-choked and terrible.

"I did something that awful to you, and all you thought about was making sure I could really believe in you. That if I loved you again, I loved you truly," she said, and shook her head, marveling. "I don't even know how you did it. How you made yourself that okay with it."

But he just looked bemused. "I didn't have to make myself okay about it, Cass. I was okay. I am okay. It was a fucking accident . You never intended to actually turn me into a werewolf. I don't even think the potion was meant to do that. I think it was meant to protect you from harm, because I didn't feel one thing after that. I didn't turn. I didn't show any signs of anything like it. In fact, you know when I did? When I saw that they wanted to keep hurting you. That's when I thought, If I am a beast, I want to be one who can keep her safe . And a wolf was what I thought of. And what I became," he said, so earnestly she wanted to accept that. She wanted to feel some relief, that she hadn't been as responsible as she'd thought.

But it still felt impossible.

"All that pain, though. And the fact that you couldn't have sex. And then got forced into a fated-mates, werewolf-sex situation—with the very person who sort of did this to you. Come on, that's at least a little horrible any way you slice it," she tried, face turned away from him as he did.

Then she turned back, and oh. There was such a look, all over his face. A kind of half-sheepish, half-confused look. And she knew some other revelation was coming. It was clear before he even took a breath, and kind of tilted his head to one side. "Yeah, I was kind of thinking you'd probably guessed why that fated mates stuff happened. And that maybe you were just being polite about it. Or trying to spare my feelings. But now I'm starting to wonder if that's true. Now I'm starting to wonder if you really don't know what a coward I was," he said.

But honestly, that only made it more confusing. "You're not a coward, Seth."

"I am. And I'm a fool too. God, I was a fool." He looked away from her again, down at his tightly laced together fingers. So she knew he was struggling to find the right way to say it. And it clearly made it easier, when she put her hand on his arm and squeezed.

Because he took a breath, and began, "Do you know why I wanted to be someone different? Someone hotter and cooler and better? Because I thought: if I become those things, the girl I love will finally love me. I will be good enough for her then. I'll be like the homecoming king in every movie we loved, mooned after by some sweet girl you're supposed to think is a dork. I will be a prize, golden and glowing and perfect, and she will think so too."

And now she wasn't just confused.

She was frightened. Because part of her knew what he was saying. But most of her didn't know how to accept it. She was still stuck between the kid she had been, and the woman she had grown into, and whoever it was that she could now possibly become. Someone even better. Someone who didn't just dare to trust in the decency and friendship of another person.

But believed in love being returned.

Or at least, believed enough to say it.

To step out over what looked like empty air, and be sure that something safe would emerge beneath her feet. You'll plummet to your death if you try, her mind insisted. But somehow she found herself inching to the edge of the precipice anyway.

"But you already were those things, Seth. And if that girl didn't see it, then she was a fool," she said, heart beating like a rabbit's, eyes unable to meet his. Until he touched the tips of his fingers to her chin. He lifted it so she could see his gaze, all full of feeling for her.

"Oh, I think she did agree," he murmured softly. Then more, more, oh there were a million confessions to come. "I think she must have, all things considered. But the problem was, I just didn't know. I didn't understand. And it meant I didn't tell her. It meant I was terrified of telling her. That I was terrified of anyone telling her. I didn't want her to ever think I was pathetic and lovelorn and not really her friend. So I let myself be taunted into shouting something at a talent show, something ugly, something I only meant as a fumbled, frantic denial of all the things I didn't want her to know. But of course she didn't hear it as that. She heard it as an insult. And it led to us not being friends at all."

She saw it all, the moment he said it.

Everything turned on its head. Everything flipped.

The insult somehow no longer even just accidentally repeated, in anger at them. But accidentally repeated, out of love for someone. Someone she could see now, very clearly. Yet still felt breathless, at the thought of naming.

"So you were friends with this girl," she said, instead.

But he understood. "The best of friends. The very best."

"She was special to you."

"There are no words for how much," he said, as he met her gaze.

And she knew. She knew so thoroughly that she almost couldn't speak what was in her heart. But she made herself, so she could hear it for sure. "Try to tell me some of the things that made her special to you. Tell me what she was like," she said, so faintly she wasn't even sure if he caught it.

Until he stroked a thumb over the tear that ran down her cheek. "Like wild laughter while riding my bike down a hill with her on the front," he said soft, soft. "Like eyes made bright by the movie screen her face is always turned up toward. Like the smell of popcorn and cinnamon and something she baked just for me. Something so sweet, I can hardly stand it."

And when he did, she saw every one.

Felt the wind in her hair.

Saw a movie dancing in her eyes.

Tasted that sweetness on her tongue.

"And is she still those things now?" she dared to ask in a trembling voice. Then got all the wonders she could have ever dreamed of.

"She's more than all of them. I've watched her fearlessly fly into a sky she doesn't know if she's ever going to come down from, just for the love of all that is magical in the world. I've seen her care for someone so much, even while thinking he was her worst enemy. Hell, she thought I was her worst enemy again, when she came for me. Fierce as a lightning strike, doing things for me that I could never have imagined getting from someone, in all the horror movies I've ever loved. She is the heroine of all of them, better than all of them, and I'm not afraid to say it. Because that fear was all about me, and how I thought you would see me. When really I should have thought about how you deserved to be seen. How you deserve to know you're seen. You are the best, brightest, and most brilliant person I've ever known, Cassandra Camberwell. And I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so much that even though it might cost me to say it, I want you to know it anyway. I want you to know how beloved you are to me," he said.

Then all she could do was look at her own clumsy little life through new eyes.

The way she was, the way she seemed. All the ways he'd told her, and yet somehow she hadn't understood. Because before, he would start to say "love" and change it to "like." He would say he imagined how making love with her might be, then make sure to clarify that he meant now rather than always. He had stepped carefully around an admission that his desire was already there. Held back on confessing his attraction to her. And how many times had he said:

"I mean, not that I do?"… "Not that I did?"… "Only just?"… "Right now?"

So many she should have guessed. She should have guessed over the mating bond. Over the words in the guidebook that she'd always let her eyes skim right over, rather than allowing any of them to go in. A compulsive connection with a werewolf may only occur if one already exists , she thought. And oh, the way the witch inside her yelled for that. At last you ask me , it said inside her. Why didn't you ask me? But of course she knew why she hadn't.

Her entire view of how things were had stood in the way.

Just as his had stood in the way for him.

He hadn't thought he was enough.

Even though he was everything, he was everything, oh god she could finally tell him how much he was. "Oh, love. How could you ever think it would cost you anything at all, when all I ever wanted was to hear you say one-half of what you just said, one-tenth of it, one-millionth? I used to lie awake at night dreaming of just that tone in your voice," she said.

And once she had spoken—once she saw the light in his eyes change from dark to shot through with lightning, once she saw his frown smooth and his lips part—she couldn't stop. She let out all the words she'd always wanted to.

"Every love song I loved I sang at the top of my lungs while alone, thinking of you. My heart used to come close to bursting, with the hope that you thought of me too. It's the reason it crushed me so completely when you went away, because the thing was, it wasn't just losing my friend. It was losing the whole idea of the way life could be. The idea that sometimes things turn out the way you most long for, sometimes things will be okay, sometimes you are the heroine at the end of the movie, who takes a chance, and it goes the right way. The amazing, brilliant, perfect-just-as-he-is nerd she loves chooses her, the moment she says."

After which, it was his turn to be speechless. She saw his lips form words, then stop, and start again. And again, and again. Until finally he managed to get them out. "And you're saying that's what this is. That this was always it, to you."

"With all my heart, it was, and still is, and always will be."

"But you never let it show, not ever."

She shook her head, half laughing. "Do you know how many things I did to make sure it didn't? The amount of times I would wait to text you back, or pull faces when you hugged me, or sign birthday cards with just my name so you would never know. So you could never guess," she explained, and oh, the laugh he let out when she did. The delight in it, the ruefulness. The way it spurred her on. "It's why I can't ever be mad at you for fearing looking lovelorn and pathetic. Because I was terrified of the same thing, too. I used to think if he did, he would say, if he did, he would say, if he did, he would say ."

"And all along I thought the same."

"I guess so."

He shook his head. "Boy, we really made a mess of things, huh?"

"I'd say yes. But nothing has ever felt less like a mess to me than this."

"Even though we wasted all that time, and suffered all that agony?"

"It's a small price to pay to feel my heart soar like this. To know, finally, that I can put my hand over yours, and you will turn your hand and fold it around mine, just like you are doing before I even say it," she said, because sure enough he was. And so instinctively that he looked down in a wondering sort of way. Like he could hardly believe it was true.

That this was how things were now.

They were love, all love, no holding back or trying to pretend.

"God, yeah. You're right," he said, after a moment of letting that wash over him. "I'd pay that price a thousand times over again, for this feeling. Even being alone, even being a monster, even longing for you the way I did, I would."

And then she offered what she had known she would, the moment the truth about what she had done had hit her. The thing she could give him, as one who had made him what he was. "I can turn you back, you know. I can give you back everything I took," she said as he looked at her again. As he met her gaze, steady and so full of love it was like being held.

Then he spoke, softer than ever. "You already have. You've given me what I always wanted. To be like this, to be the beast from the kind of movie you saved the day in. But with a better ending than anything like that beast gets. I am all the magic of a million things we watched together, and none of the agony, at the end," he said. And as he leaned in to kiss her, he whispered one more thing. "Because now we get to live out our happily ever after, forever and ever, amen."