Chapter 23

I'm pancaked on the bed, mind blown from having sex with Calder, my boyfriend and love.

"Yeah, okay. I like that," I say, turning and holding out my arms. "Sex, I like the sex thing. I like the way it feels when you're all up in my business."

He cuddles into me, breathless. "I do, too."

"I want to do it again. I am foreseeing that I'm going to be the neediest bottom who ever bottomed."

"Is that true?" Calder murmurs.

"Yes. OMG. I love the way it feels to have your dick up my ass. I want it up my ass all the time."

That gets a full-on laugh. "I think you're going to have to go to class once in a while."

"I can't get out of it by saying I want Calder to ream me?"

"No."

"Huh. Too bad." I snicker. Then I sigh, wrapping my legs around his body, clinging to him like a koala. "Today was eventful."

"Yes, it was, Brandon-love."

"I like how it ended, though."

"Me, too."

I drift to sleep wrapped around Calder, reliving the sensation of his body inside mine. His strong hips thrusting into me. The way he focused on me, giving me all his attention. The way his cool hands always feel on my bare skin. The way I now know he's got a little wiggle in his hips that hits the right parts inside me.

The way he makes me come undone.

I never knew that having a lover could feel like this. All-encompassing. Like he's hijacked my body, spirit, and mind.

I don't want to lose myself, but I want to lose myself in him.

The next day is Sunday, and we spend it in bed, only going out to pick up coffee and accept a pizza delivery. It's one of the best days of my life.

On Monday, Calder has a choice to make: Go to class in his true form or in his shifted form.

"It's up to you," I say as he tugs a shirt on over his green skin. "But you look adorable." I don't want to influence him too much. This should be up to him. Just because I'm loving having him be his true self with me doesn't mean he's going to be comfortable around other people.

But I might push him a little bit. Gently. Because if he looked around at all on Halloween night, he should know that he isn't alone at Creelin. There are monsters of every shape and size—and humans, too. And we can all be self-conscious about the way we look. I used to feel that way about my stretch marks, until I decided that they were a badge of honor. They're a reminder to love my body as it is, at any weight. Regardless of my physical shape, I am worthy of respect and love.

And so is he.

Old habits die hard, and he's going to take some convincing, but he's starting to not flinch when I kiss him. He's lolling around in our room unselfconsciously.

I know what I think he should do, but I don't want to force it on him.

When he steps outside in his true form, I tackle him in a hug. "I'm so proud of you."

Later, he reports to me that in his performance class, he is playing a quartet with his friends, and that no one batted an eye when he walked in.

Just as I suspected.

But at the end of the day, he comes back to our room and collapses into me, holding me tight.

"I'm proud of you," I whisper against his hair. "Sometimes showing the world who we really are is the bravest thing we can ever do."

He snuffles into my chest and nods.

A week later, it's time for the big game against Shuford.

"Proud of you for playing in your true form," I tell Calder, as we stride into the crowded pool area suited up in our Speedos. The noise level in the pool is overwhelming, with a lot of the school having shown up to cheer us on. Despite the audience seated on bleachers to each side, I slap his cute ass.

"It is so I can focus my energy on playing, not on maintaining my shift," Calder says, rubbing his butt and dropping his towel with the team gear. I do the same.

"Whatever. I'm just glad you're doing it. That you're being yourself. And I really want to get those bastards."

His toothy grin is crooked and makes my blood warm. "Me, too."

"Good luck, babe," I say. "Or, I mean, Steve."

He leans in and whispers, "Use my real name."

"No!" I hiss, glancing to either side. "Isn't it too dangerous?"

"Just whisper it."

I pull him close and breathe in his ear, "Good luck, Calder Hemming."

He closes his eyes and smiles again. "Good luck, Brandon." He gives me a quick kiss, and we jump in the water.

As I do at every game, I carefully put the steel necklace in a corner of the pool that's blocked off for players to wait their turn, because while I can wear it in practice, I wouldn't put it past any of those sleazeballs to yank on it and choke me. And I wouldn't put it past Calder to get pissed and go all nokk-scream on them.

We swim a few laps to warm up, and then the starting players—including Calder and me—take our positions, holding on to the edge of the pool.

"CREELIN!" our team shouts as one.

I study the opposing team, all wearing their swim caps.

There's the jerk of a werewolf. There's the asshole merman. There's the shithead hydra.

We got this.

There's a bit of a disturbance in the bleachers, and I look up to see a monster—unmistakably a nokk—taking a seat. He's gray, like Calder.

It has to be his father. Calder looks at him, then looks again. But then he gets his glare on and takes his position in the goal.

The official drops the ball into the designated spot in the middle of the pool, and we take off swimming. Phil gets there fastest. He waxed this morning for the first time in weeks, so he has to be feeling extra fast in the water. He passes the ball to Clay, who throws it to me. The hydra tries to grab me, but I dodge and pass to Nick, who sends it to Ashton. Back to me. And I dong it into the net.

I think that's the fastest we've scored yet.

Buoyed by the quick point, we settle down and dig in. We're gonna beat Shuford. That's what we've been working toward all year. We didn't want to let these bastards get away with anything.

But Shuford has the next possession, and they're down near Calder and the goal in a heartbeat. A troll takes a shot on goal, which Calder blocks. Then the werewolf, and Calder blocks again. Nick fouls the merman—I'm not grumpy about that—and the merman gets a penalty shot.

It zings past Calder's head, and now we're tied.

"No worries!" I call to my boyfriend, and he nods, looking determined. He glances up at his father, who is watching him intently.

Now we have possession, and Phil's dribbling the ball fast toward the Shuford goal. Instead of shooting, he fakes them out and passes to me, lightning fast. I shove it into the upper left corner.

Goal!

Fuck yes.

The team cheers, and, elated, we go back into our positions for the Shuford possession.

Point after point, we score, they tie it up. We score, they tie it up. We just can't get a solid lead. Coach rotates players in and out. Nick tends goal for a while, as does Ren. But Calder's back for the final few minutes of the game.

That jerk of a werewolf is dribbling toward him, and I swim as fast as I can to block the shot. While I miss—though Calder makes the save—I do land a satisfying kick to the werewolf's chest. It genuinely was an accident, but I smirk as he howls.

The ref didn't see it.

"Well done, Brandon," Calder yells. "Nice one."

Whipping his head toward my boyfriend, the werewolf sneers, "Fuck you, Calder Hemming."

Calder's body goes still and begins to sink to the bottom of the pool.

For the second time in my life, the world ends.

"No!" I scream and dive under, avoiding the legs of players who haven't figured out what's going on.

Panic lances through me as the water fights my movements, but I kick my way down to Calder, who is lying on the bottom of the pool.

He cannot be dead. He cannot be dead . He just needs CPR.

Must get to the surface.

Must save him.

But Calder's a literal dead weight, and it's a struggle for me to bring him up. I'm not sure how much more my lungs can take.

Must save him.

As I'm about to pass out from holding my breath, there's a burst of energy near me, and Nick—in full Loch Ness Monster shift—appears, his snakelike body curving to support Calder's weight like a sling. I help get Calder cradled on Nick's back. Then Nick heaves them both out of the water, leaving a mass of bubbles behind.

At the surface, I gasp for air, but there's no time to do anything but focus on saving the love of my life. I haul myself out of the pool, and Ren and I gently roll Calder off Nick's back to the coping. Coach has raced over, and the refs have clearly stopped play.

I look up, and Calder's father is running to us.

"They said his real name!" I yell, gesturing to Calder. "Save him!"

With a stricken look, Calder's father says, "I cannot. You are his mate. You are the only one who can."

I don't ask. I just do. I lean down and kiss Calder as he lies on the side of the pool, water spreading all around him.

His chest remains unmoving.

"No!" I scream, shaking Calder's chest and kissing his cold lips again. What the fuck? Why isn't it working?

I start CPR—quick chest compressions and rescue breathing.

Doesn't a true love's kiss fix everything?

Some rotten voice inside me tells me it didn't in Frozen . That Disney princess needed her sister. Who can save Calder if I can't and his father can't?

Commotion behind me makes it clear that someone has called emergency medical services.

But how can they bring him back? This is a magical death.

I'm counting out breaths and compressions.

His father crouches next to me, wringing his hands. "I do not understand why you are not bringing him back. I can see your bonds. They are visible to any nokk."

I'm barely registering what he is saying, sweat pouring from my brow as I try to revive my boyfriend.

The EMTs come over with an AED, setting it on the pool coping and placing the electrode pads on Calder's body.

"Son, let us do this. You need to step back from the electrical pulse," one says to me.

I don't want to let Calder go, but what I'm doing isn't working.

With one last kiss, I step back, too stunned even to cry. The entire pool complex is silent as everyone holds their breath, waiting.

With a few more moves, the EMTs set the AED to go, and it zaps Calder. His body convulses and then lies still.

Not breathing. He's not breathing. There's no chest movement.

"The AED will analyze him and tell us what to do next," the EMT says. Another one is readying a stretcher for when it's safe to move him.

I feel useless. Helpless. Someone has taken my soul and stomped on it.

"Stand back," the machine says, telling us it's going to zap him again.

Calder's father starts to sing. His voice is haunting. It's got the same qualities as Calder's but is even sadder.

I start humming the song that Calder wrote for me. My birthday tune. The one that is in part the payment for my gift of blood, Spidey, and vodka.

The machine zaps Calder.

He remains motionless.

Someone—Clay—comes up behind me and puts my steel necklace on me. The one Calder gave me to protect me from him.

I feel a surge of some kind of power. I don't know if it's from the necklace or his dad's singing or my humming.

"Perform chest-only CPR," the machine says.

The EMT leans in to do so, but before he can move, I yell, "Let me. He's my mate. We're bonded."

"No, I'm a professional—"

I shove him out of the way with strength that comes from somewhere down deep.

"Chest only," he says, sounding resigned, as I straddle Calder again.

I do chest compressions, desperately humming his song through my tears.

"Come on, baby," I'm chanting. "Come on."

Calder's lips are parted, and I feel the overwhelming need to kiss him again. I lean in, and the EMT yells, "No!"

I make a shooing movement, tilting Calder's head back. "Let me kiss him! He's my mate!" I touch his lips, wearing his necklace, and concentrate on our bonds.

That moment I first met him, and it seemed like electricity coursed between us.

The sight of his eyes lighting up when I bring him coffee.

Every emoji he's ever texted me.

His unbridled joy when he swims in the river.

How he can stop a waterfall.

What he looks like when he kisses me.

How he's mine. All mine.

This time, when I give him a rescue breath, a spark dances between us. I hope it's not just from the AED. A surge of power races through me, and … I can see them .

Our bonds.

I can see what his dad was talking about. Strings of light, like bright strings of hot glass, are connecting Calder's heart to me.

I can feel them.

I'm connected to him. He is a part of me, and I'm a part of him.

The bond is pulsing on my end, the end that's coming from my chest.

From my heart.

Using all my concentration, I send that pulse down the string of light.

"Come on, my love," I mutter. "You can have my heart. You can have every part of me. I'm yours. Take my soul, even. It's all yours."

I dig deep for every ounce of energy I can summon, pushing my love along our bonds and into Calder.

His back arches, and he starts to cough.

I burst out crying.

Hurriedly, I get off of him, giving him space to breathe.

There's murmuring in the crowd around us while I start sobbing for real, clutching at his shoulders.

"What a relief," the EMT says. "Son, you need to step back."

I shake my head, but Clay puts his hand on my shoulder. "Good job, Fernandez. You saved him. Let them do their job."

The next hour or so is a blur.

The EMTs take Calder out on a stretcher, even though he now seems out of danger. I want to go with him in the ambulance, but they point out that I'm dripping wet and wearing only a swimsuit, so Calder's dad goes instead. I return to the pool complex, intending to change and join them as fast as I can.

But before I do, Coach approaches me. "What in the name of the monster gods just happened?"

"Shuford's werewolf used our goalie's true name with bad intent. And it killed him," I say, my lip trembling.

Coach's whole body puffs up with anger. He stomps over to the referees, and I can see him throwing up his hands as he yells at them. It's hard to hear him over the loud voices talking everywhere.

"How did that werewolf know Steve's real name?" Clay asks. "And how did they know it would hurt him?"

"I don't know. I whispered it before the game," I say. "He told me to. I thought I was almost silent, but they must've heard it."

"Werewolves do have superior hearing."

"Fuck! I feel so fucking guilty." I rub my eyes. "I should've known not to do it." I pause, thinking. "You know, Shuford was there when Steve and I were Speedo shopping and he told me that knowing his name would kill him. Fuck. Now I want to kill them ."

"That won't solve anything," Clay says. "Although I understand the sentiment. They need to be thrown in jail."

Now that Calder is safe, I'm taking in what's going on around me. The Shuford team is huddled off to the side, towels over their shoulders. Most of our team is hovering nearby. One of the referees is on his phone. He hangs up, talks with the other ref, and blows a whistle, beckoning the teams to gather around.

The pool complex goes quiet.

"We have a few announcements," one of the referees says. "First, we are appalled by the Shuford team's lack of ethics. There will be a thorough investigation, but based on what we just witnessed and the information Coach Rosmarus has provided, we are going to recommend to the governing board that Shuford be banned from water polo for five years."

There's a gasp from the audience, and Shuford's team looks mutinous, but it's what they deserve.

No, they deserve worse.

"In addition, of course, law enforcement will be taking the individuals involved in for questioning," the ref continues, and as if on cue, two of the campus security zombies appear, approaching the Shuford team.

The werewolf finally looks caged.

"Finally, Shuford forfeits the game. Creelin wins."

We were up one point anyway, but we'll take the win.

I'm so tired, I don't even know what to think. Along with the rest of the team, I head into the locker room to change. I have a boyfriend to go find.

Before I can leave, though, Coach calls us together. "What Shuford did today was criminal," he says, "and I will do everything I can to see that they are properly punished for it. I am furious about what happened."

We all nod.

"Fernandez and MacGregor, good work. You saved Jobs's life."

There's a smattering of applause from my teammates. I don't feel like clapping. All I feel is exhaustion coupled with relief.

"Clearly, a player's safety is inordinately more important than any game. But since it appears Jobs is going to be all right, I want to take a moment to say that before Shuford's disgusting attack on him, you all were playing the game of your lives, and I am so proud of you all," he says, his walrus tusks popping out. "There were those who questioned the OME opening Creelin to humans. But from day one, all of you, human and monster, have worked together to achieve this result. Congratulations. You've proven you all deserve to be here."

The team does a group cheer, but it's not as enthusiastic as usual. We've been through something major, and it's going to take a little while before we're back in our regular mode.

When Coach releases us, I race to my car and drive to the hospital in town. I find out Calder's room number and skid in there.

He's sitting in a hospital bed, dressed in a flimsy gown, with a blood pressure cuff around his arm, but otherwise he looks unharmed.

In fact, he looks downright normal. Must be because he was in the water?

I carefully put my arms around him. "Babe," I say, my chest heaving. "You're okay!" I kiss the top of his head.

"I am." He gives me a small smile. "Thanks to you."

Carefully taking a seat on the side of his bed, I make him go through everything that happened since he woke up. It sounds like he's mostly fine, his monster strength returned.

"But you died," I say, tears forming in my eyes.

"And you saved me." He tilts his face up to mine. I drop a light kiss on his lips, still wary of hurting him.

"Is that going to happen again?" I ask. "Is it dangerous for you to be on campus now? How many people heard your name?"

Calder shrugs. "I don't know. I suppose it is a risk. But I think what you did might insulate me from more harm." He rubs his chest. "My heart is beating now because of you."

That makes me kiss him harder.

After a little while, a nurse bustles in and checks his vitals. I look around, realizing I haven't seen Calder's father since I got here. "Where's your dad?" I ask. "Did you know he was coming to the game?"

"I did not know he was coming. I have not talked with him in … a while. A few weeks? I guess he wanted to check up on me. I asked him to give me some privacy and to wait for me outside."

"Do you want me to go with you to talk with him?"

"Um. Yes?" Calder looks at me in surprise.

"If you don't want me to, I won't," I say, taking a step back.

"I do want you to. Of course. I am … not used to having someone supporting me, particularly when he is around."

"Well, now you have me."

"Then, yes. I would like that, and if you are willing, you should properly meet him. You matter to me."

We wait for the results of some tests, but eventually the doctors pronounce Calder magically healed and say he doesn't need to stay the night.

I give him his clothes, which I brought with me, and he gets dressed and signs the discharge papers "Steve Jobs."

Mr. Hemming is waiting at the entrance to the hospital.

"Pappa, hei," Calder says, stepping out of the wheelchair as soon as the orderly says it's allowed. "I hope you are well."

"Son," Mr. Hemming says, his face taut with fear. "I was so worried about you."

"You were?" Calder sounds so genuinely bewildered I want to hug him.

"Of course I was."

Calder's gaze falls to the ground, and he kicks at the concrete.

Mr. Hemming looks at me. "Thank you for saving my son. And you are?"

"This is my boyfriend, Pappa. Brandon Fernandez."

I hold out my hand. "It's nice to meet you, sir." I'm not sure whether I can use Mr. Hemming's real name, so I'm going to err on the side of caution.

"It is nice to meet you, too, Brandon. I do not know how I can ever thank you enough."

"You don't have to thank me, sir," I say. "I'm in love with your son. It wasn't a question of whether I would do everything in my power to save him."

"Yes. I love him, too." Calder takes my hand and squeezes it.

"Hmm." Mr. Hemming rubs the back of his neck. "I had come here to remind my son to engage in more traditional nokk activities. To not forget where he came from. Or who he is."

"I think you'll find that he is all nokk," I say, leaning into Calder.

Mr. Hemming nods. "It seems so. I was not expecting to see my son in unshifted form … or bonded to a human."

"I'm not taking his soul, Pappa," Calder says.

He is worthy of love just as he is.

I kiss his cheek, not caring that his dad is watching.

"Hmm."

"Is there any way you can give Mamma back her soul?" Calder looks as if he's expecting to be chastised for the question—or worse. I think it's incredibly brave of him to ask anyway.

His father opens his mouth and closes it. He shakes his head. "Once it is taken, it is not replaceable. You, by contrast, have what I have been looking for all these years: a true bond. I am jealous," he admits. "But I can be glad that my son is well bonded."

Calder nods a few times. "Let us drive back to campus, Pappa. And then, if you like, I will give you a tour."

"That would be acceptable, yes," Mr. Hemming says. I'm amused—though not surprised, I suppose—that he has the same reticent personality as Calder. I'm not happy with how he treated his son in the past, but I'm proud that Calder has figured out a way he can be himself rather than focusing on the need to please others.