edge in the same spot they’d gone to while Stan was in prison and the whole world was falling apart. He hesitated for a second, because despite the familiar pull in his chest, the boy in front of him was blond, and his hair brushed his shoulders.
No, it was definitely Ronnie. There was no denying it. And it figured that all this time he’d dyed his hair to match the only color in his wardrobe.
Colt finally took a breath for the first time in what felt like forever. He had never been so glad to see another person in his life.
In that moment, it all came crashing down: relief, guilt, some curious combination of emotions he could only recognize as love. Nothing else could be so irrational. So devastating and uplifting at once. He had tried to keep them all at bay for so long, because he knew the moment they broke free, the only stable thing in his world was going to collapse.
There was no putting it back, though. No more denying the fact that the hole in his chest had taken on a definable shape, one the young man huddled on the dock ahead of him fit perfectly.
“Ronnie,” he called, rushing forward. He couldn’t walk fast enough, and the pier seemed to stretch on the closer he drew.
The boy’s head turned slightly, not enough for Colt to see his face, but the scent of his blood was heavy in the air. Colt reached him before he could get to his feet, pulling him up the rest of the way and into his arms. He crushed Ronnie against his chest, breathing in his scent. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry since the relief was sending haywire signals through his brain. All he knew was that Ronnie fit perfectly in his arms, small and warm and soft, and Colt was never letting him go again.
When Colt felt the blood soaking into his chest, he finally forced himself to ease up a bit, looking down. He grimaced when he saw the younger ghoul’s shoulder was soaked with blood. His red plaid shirt was torn open on one side, but there was so much blood Colt couldn’t even see the wound.
Ronnie didn’t respond, even though the embrace must have hurt in his current condition. He just stood there, staring blankly at Colt as if he wasn’t sure he was really there.
He was in shock. Had to be. He was even paler than usual, and it was no wonder. He had lost so much blood. Colt knew he had to get him to the hospital.
“Let me see,” he pleaded, reaching to pull the tattered pieces of Ronnie’s shirt off his shoulder. Still, he failed to respond. He didn’t seem quite conscious, as if his body was just moving on autopilot. How he had gotten from the forest to the pier in such a state, Colt had no idea.
Sure enough, there was a massive wound in Ronnie’s shoulder, and it was clear the flesh had been torn open by sharp fangs. Colt knew the sight well. It was worse than the wound on the corpse had been, but it seemed to have healed over somewhat. Colt realized it was no longer actively bleeding, at least not at the moment.
It made no sense. The blood was so fresh, the wound had to be recent. Ronnie hadn’t awakened yet, so he wouldn’t heal quickly like other ghouls.
Unless…
No. That was impossible. There was no way he’d actually consumed the other ghoul’s flesh, and even if he had, just once wouldn’t make him an Alpha. Maybe it would explain the healing, though. There wasn’t exactly a wealth of data on unawakened ghouls eating the flesh of their own kind.
“Come on,” Colt said gently, putting a hand on Ronnie’s back as far from the wound as he could. “We need to get you to the hospital. To your dad at least.”
Ronnie’s feet remained planted on the dock, and Colt was contemplating whether carrying him would do more damage when the boy’s eyes finally met his. Ronnie’s pupils were so wide Colt could hardly even see the color around his irises. They had an empty, haunted look he knew too well.
“I killed him,” Ronnie said, his voice as thin as paper when he finally spoke.
Colt gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile even though he was panicking himself. “I know. It’s okay. You did what you had to do, and everything is going to be alright.”