I listened to Abel’s deep voice wrapping around the words as my eyes drifted back to Snake getting one thing he wanted in life and getting it after he died.

Abel finished the song, gave it a few moments, then I again looked to him when he kept going.

This time doing Pearl Jam’s “Just Breathe.”

When he started singing, his dark head was bent, watching his fingers move on the strings.

But on the first “stay with me,” he lifted his head and looked right to me.

And my world stopped.

But my tears didn’t.

My friend Snake burned, my life was turned upside down, and I stood on a pebbled beach with family, a bunch of vampires and werewolves, my man singing to me, and I fell in love.

Forever and completely.

But I’d already been in love.

Since the day I was born to be Abel’s.

I stared into Abel’s eyes as the words he sang poured into my soul, and I knew no matter what became of me, I’d live wild and free and full for the rest of my life.

Because he would give that to me.

And watching him pour those words into my soul, part of it died, knowing I couldn’t give him the same thing.

As the song started to come to a close, I let Jabber go and pressed close to Dad for a second before I broke free and moved across the beach to Abel.

I stood right in front of him, his eyes soft on mine as he sang the final words, “meet you on the other side,” and then the notes died away.

“That’s a deal,” I whispered.

Pain pierced the serenity of his expression because he knew I knew.

And that pain settled where the hole he’d filled had been in my belly. It settled permanently. I’d hold it with me until my last breath.

And I’d do it gladly. I’d take that pain because Abel gave it to me.

He swung the guitar by the strap until it was resting on a slant on his back and held his arms wide.

I didn’t hesitate to move into them and press close, my cheek to his chest, my arms around him, his around me. I turned my eyes to Snake’s burning boat.

“That’s what I want,” I said softly.

“Then that’s what you’ll get, bao bei,” he replied softly, his voice thick.

We stayed there, me holding Abel, Abel holding me, and me trying not to think of the time that would come, whenever it might be, where he’d be just like he is now—strong, handsome, and amazing—but he’d also be somewhere on a beach, watching me burn.

“I was born to be yours, you know,” I told him.

“I know,” he told me.