Page 446 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

We fucking win.

Chapter 94

Epilogue: Plague

The warmth reaches me first, and then the fragrant cinnamon from the roasted chicken and toasted nuts on the table.

Everyone's home.

It's a Friday evening, so that makes sense.

But I don't remember driving here.

I don't remember a flight, either, or a door, or even saying hello or getting a hug from Yamma. It must have happened, of course. She always hugs me, and holds me until I squirm. I just don't remember.

I'm just here, at our table in the house on the hillside, the sun going down gold over the distant sea beyond our terrace, and the table is so crowded, there's nowhere to put my elbows.

"Elbows off the table, habibi," Yamma says, serving herself olives.

She has to tilt her chin to say it.

Strange. I don't remember ever being taller than her.

Azhar grins, his shaggy dark hair in his eyes, and kicks me under the table for it before I can lift my elbows. I kick him back, but nothing ever hurts him. My big brother is untouchable.

And I know he's the reason half my pomegranate seeds are missing.

His fingers are stained red.

But it's okay. There's enough for both of us here. There's enough for everyone, and someone is petting my hair, so who cares about a few pomegranate seeds?

Everyone is here tonight.

Nobody is missing.

My aunts and uncles are waving their hands, laughing so hard they have tears rolling down their cheeks. Even my cousins are somewhere down the hill, shrieking, chasing each other with skinned knees.

The hand in my hair keeps stroking, crown to nape, even and endless.

And I know everything is going to be okay.

I lean into the hand in my hair without thinking, closing my eyes. It's a big hand, and warm. I don't know whose hand it is, and I don't care.

There's a voice, low and rumbling, directly under my ear, somehow.

Am I resting my head on a pillow?

The pillow laughs.

I jolt awake.

Okay. Fuck. I was dreaming again.

One of those dreams about my family, only this time, it didn't end in an explosion. They just… faded off, into wherever they are, if they're anywhere at all.

And I'm in the pack house, laying on the couch, my head on a pillow.

No, not a pillow.