Luna
A sense of deep contentment rolls through me as I sit with my arms wrapped around Callan, zipping over the wet, cracked roads and streets of civilized Jacksonville. The sensation changes to ecstasy as we head up the long sand and dirt driveway to their—our—house.
He said it was my home, too.
Callan keeps one arm pressed to mine, driving with only one hand as if he's afraid of losing me again. Once parked, I climb off the Queen's seat and wait for Callan to climb off. When he does, he throws his arm around me and guides me to the house. I'm so happy I think I'll float off into the mosquito filled air like a piece of thistledown.
Inside the house, Warrick and Ethan stand from their seats at the kitchen table when we walk in.
"Luna," Ethan says, a big smile cracking over his face and showing off that adorable gap where he's missing a tooth. "You came home."