I’d never had so many presents all at once, and even though I was a big fifteen-year-old now, I couldn’t help feeling excited as I ripped off the wrapping paper.

Nudge had hot-glued all sorts of pretty shells and beads around a picture frame. It was gorgeous, too heavy to lug around, and totally not sturdy enough to survive even a light battle.

“Nudge, it’s beautiful! I love it!” I told her. She threw her arms around me, and I realized that she had grown several inches without my noticing.

“Oh, my, gosh.” Angel’s quiet voice got my attention. I looked over to see her holding a small digital camera, her eyes wide.

“Who gave you that?” I exclaimed.

Angel’s face shone. “Fang. Oh, I love it so much! I’ve wanted a camera for so long. The first thing I want to do is take a picture of all of us.”

“I can put it in my frame,” I said, holding it up. Nudge looked pleased.

“Here,” said Iggy. “I made fudge for everyone. Didn’t have time to wrap it.” He held out a large plate covered with neat squares of marbled chocolate–peanut butter fudge. I figured we had about forty minutes before we were all in sugar-induced comas.

“Max!” Gazzy cried. “Way cool!” He held up his certificate for one tattoo at the tattoo parlor a couple towns over. (No, I’m not going to mention which one.)

“I got one too!” Nudge squealed, waving it around. “I’m going to get a unicorn! Or a heart! Or a rainbow!”

“I’m going to get a stick of dynamite on my arm,” Gazzy said.

Okay, it wasn’t the most imaginative gift, but I’d been pretty sure everyone in the flock would like a tattoo. It looked like I was right.

Fang came and stood next to me. “This is for you.”

He held out a small box tied with satin ribbon. My heart started thumping hard, as if I’d been in a fight. With shaking fingers, I pulled off the ribbon and opened the box.

Chapter 32

32

I QUIT BREATHING for a moment when I saw what was inside the box. It was a delicate, old-fashioned birthstone ring, with this month’s birthstone.

Every other person in the world would have looked at it and thought, Max would hate this. It was girly. It was beautiful. It wasn’t made of titanium and black leather with spikes on it. But it seemed exactly right, in a weird, heartfluttery kind of way. And I really loved it.

Quickly I slipped it onto the ring finger of my right hand. It fit like it was made for me. I couldn’t stop looking at it.

I realized that Fang was waiting for a reaction. “Thanks,” I managed, my voice husky. “It’s perfect.”

“You’re perfect,” Fang whispered, leaning close. “As is.”