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We didn't take the limo back to Gregory's house. We were close enough that we could walk, plus I didn't want the night to end any sooner than it had to.

"Nick," I heard Gregory say as we made our way down the sidewalk, "I want to thank you for tonight."

"Don't mention it," I replied. "It's the least I could do to pay you back for everything you've done for me."

"I don't think you understand, Nick. The things I told you tonight... I've never told anyone before. Never since I first became the white wolf. I was so ashamed for what I'd done that day that I would avoid the subject at all costs, no matter who it was that asked me. But tonight, I finally found confidence to tell someone about what happened."

I smiled. "I think... no. I know Thomas would be proud of you if he could see what you've done all this time."

Judging by the expression on Gregory's face when I said that, it must've taken all of his willpower not to tear up again. "Thank you, Nick. For the dance, and for the shoulder to cry on. I truly appreciate it."

Before long, I found myself in front of Gregory's house.

"Would you like to come in for a while?" Gregory asked, hinting at much more than he stated.

I sighed. "I'd love to, Gregory, but I'd better get home. I don't want my parents to get any more suspicious about us than they already are."

"Oh?" Gregory said, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I told them about the two of us being together before I left."

"I see... I suppose that they did not react well to the news?"

"Oh, they reacted about as badly as you would expect two conservative Catholics to react."

"That's unfortunate," Gregory said solemnly. "I've always hoped that there would come a time where two people like us could share in something and not risk persecution by society at large for it. We may be much closer now than at any point I can recall, but we still have a long way to go. I just hope they didn't resort to punishing you for it."

"No, they didn't," I replied. "Although my dad threatened to. He said I was 'throwing my life away' for being in a relationship with another boy."

"Do you believe him?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then don't worry about it." Gregory took me by the hand. "I have come to the aid of several young men who I can say without a doubt were not loved by their parents. They are the hardest ones to save, because their psyches are so wounded, their level of distrust so high, that I have to prove to them that I mean no harm before I can even begin to help them. Nick, believe me when I say this: your father loves you. As does your mother. I've never met them, and I can still tell that they love you. Do you know why?"

I shook my head. "No, why?"

"Because if they didn't, you would have never let them pick you up from the ravine when you ran away. You would have preferred to stay out there, and die of pneumonia, starvation, or what have you, rather than go back to them. When someone is unloved, there's nothing in the world that will convince them to return once they break free."

We stood in the front yard for another few seconds before our hands separated.

"I guess I'll see you at school Monday, then?" I said as I began to turn back towards the sidewalk.

"Of course," Gregory replied. "Good night, Nick."

I turned away and began to head down the sidewalk again.

It was fairly late at night by now - probably no earlier than 11:00 - and the traffic on the busy street that led to my house had diminished to a car every one or two minutes. I walked slowly, humming the song that Gregory and I had danced to earlier that evening. At one point, I stopped, and tilted my head up to look at the stars. I took a few deep breaths, letting the fresh night air cleanse my lungs, a dull, dreamy smile hanging on my face. I felt so content, so happy, so relaxed, that when a truck began to rev its engine behind me, I was barely paying enough attention to hear it.

The noise startled me, though, and as I turned around to see what had caused it, I saw a pair of high-beam headlights glaring back at me, no more than 100 yards away at the nearest stop light. The engine revved again. When the light turned green, the sound of skidding rubber nearly popped my eardrums as the truck began to accelerate down the street. I stared at the truck for a few moments, wondering why the hell someone would be in such a damn hurry, when I was finally able to make out the person sitting in the driver's seat.

It was Robbie.

A chill swept down my backbone.

Before even knowing why I was doing it, I turned around and sprinted down the sidewalk, desperately trying to get away. But there was nowhere for me to hide from Robbie's sight, and even though I was probably running faster than I ever could before thanks to the wolf, there was simply no way I was going to outrun a truck. In a matter of seconds, the truck pulled alongside me and screeched to a halt. Robbie, along with a few of his friends, piled out of the cab and chased after me, no more than 20 feet behind me.

If I wasn't afraid for my life, I probably would've been amazed at how fast I was running and how long I was able to maintain my pace without getting fatigued. I probably could've outrun them all the way back home, if a stray cat hadn't jumped out across the sidewalk right in front of me, causing me to reflexively stop in my tracks. A second later, the weight and momentum of Robbie drove at full force right into my back, and I fell to the ground.

"You son of a bitch!" Robbie gasped, barely having the breath to say anything, as he stood over me. "Thought you were gonna get away with making me look like an ass in front of the whole school, didn't you?" he shouted, accenting the last two words with a kick to my stomach.

Soon enough, the rest of Robbie's buddies had caught up, and took a few turns of their own wailing on me. Every kick felt like someone stabbing into me - my stomach, my groin, my shoulders, my face. A sharp crack of pain, followed by an agonizing throb that heralded the broken bones and blood vessel that hid just below the skin.

It took everything I had not to scream in pain. I knew that doing that would only fuel their rage further. But when I felt them wrap my mouth in duct tape, then grab my hands and feet and tie them together with rope, I wished that I had made some sort of plea for help, so that someone - anyone would've heard what was going on.

They grabbed me by the arms and just about flung me into the bed of the pick-up truck, which one of them had been courteous enough to bring by. I was in so much pain, my eyes so blurry with tears, that I couldn't tell where they were driving me. All I knew was that the drive was at least ten minutes long, because it felt like an eternity. When the engine was finally shut off, I heard the hatch to the truck bed open, and I was dragged by my feet out of the truck, only to fall roughly onto the rocky soil of the riverbed - the same riverbed I had been hiding out in when I ran away.

"Turn him over," Robbie commanded. In an instant, I was flipped onto my back, so that I could see my assailants in the eyes. Even in the fog of pain I was experiencing, the sharp scent of alcohol was lingering on everyone's breath.

"I told you, Nicky," he growled, "what was gonna happen the first time I saw you without your cocksucking boyfriend." A friend of his grabbed the duct tape, violently ripping it off. I screamed in pain as it felt like my lips had been ripped off. My scream was met with another kick by one of Robbie's henchmen, right into my left side. I strangled my crying and kept it in.

"Such a little fucking crybaby," Robbie taunted, circling around me like a vulture. "I ain't gonna let you make me look bad in front of everybody ever again. You or your girlfriend," he said, bending over me and nearly tipping over in the process. "Matt, get the chains."

I couldn't see it, but I heard what sounded like a metal chain as it was taken out of the truck bed and handed over to Robbie. When I got a chance to see it, my blood ran cold. Three feet long, one inch thick, and an obvious purpose.

"Apologize for what you did tonight," Robbie demanded.

Tears streamed down my face. Did it even matter what I said? Probably not.

"Fuck you," I said defiantly.

SNAP!! The chain cracked against my left leg. An explosion of pain followed.

"You piece of shit!" Robbie bellowed. "I ain't fuckin' around here!" He twirled the chain in front of him, readying himself for another strike if the time came. "I'm gonna give you one more chance. Apologize to me, or else I'm gonna fuckin' kill you."

I couldn't apologize to Robbie. I couldn't speak at all. The tears running down my eyes were now flowing into my mouth, mixing with the blood that was already there, and choking out any attempt to make a sound. I tried to swallow it all down - the salty, ferric taste nearly repulsing me.

"Say it!" Robbie commanded. "Or do you want me to go after him, too?"

When Robbie said those words, time stopped.

It didn't matter that Gregory was immortal. It didn't matter that Gregory was more than capable of fending off these thugs by himself. It didn't matter that they probably didn't even know where he lived. No. All that mattered was that they were threatening him. The one person I loved, the only person who ever truly loved me for who I was, and they dared to wish him harm. I could've died that night, the stories of my brutal murder echoing in the news as a cautionary tale of intolerance and brutality, and he would've probably felt just as guilty if not moreso for letting me go that night instead of staying with him, but I'd be damned if I didn't stand up to these cretins on his behalf.

When such high amounts of adrenaline are pulsing through your body, every thought is a reflex. There's no such thing as a decision in those moments - you think it, it happens, without any extra time taken to consider the act. It's the reason Olympic runners are able to jump so quickly out of the blocks at the start of a race. It's the reason a police officer is able to open fire on a target the moment he senses his life is in danger.

It's the reason I changed.

The transformation was much more painful this time than any other time I could remember. Maybe it was because of the injuries I had sustained, but it probably had something to do with my state of mind. I had never become a wolf out of anger, only joy. As my clothes ripped open to expose a pelt of brown fur growing rapidly, Robbie and his cohorts must've been totally confused. But when I was able to bust out of the ropes binding my hands and feet, their confusion was replaced swiftly by fear and panic. My jaws opened, my eyes clenched shut, as fangs grew and my muzzle stretched into position, shrieks of abject terror filling my pointed ears, quickly drowned out by my furious roar.

If they hadn't treated me so badly for such a long period of time, I may have felt a shred of mercy for them. None of them had a prayer. One slash to the stomach, and one of the teenagers collapsed to the ground, his innards spilling over him like someone had smashed a plate of spaghetti against his belly. A swipe to the neck, and another kid's head flopped backwards like a candy dispenser, his jugular vein spraying like a fountain. The third member of the posse actually managed to take three steps away from me, before I closed in and tore into his back like a Christmas present.

And then there was Robbie. Poor, sweet Robbie. He seemed to think the cabin of the truck was going to protect him. Might've thought he could've driven out of that mess. But I quashed that idea right quick when I wrenched the driver's side door clean off, grabbed him by his shirt, and threw him back on the ground. The look in his eyes? I can't say I didn't relish it. I'd seen him embarrassed, humiliated, maybe even a little scared in the past. But that night, he looked positively horrified. He was even kneeling, as if he was trying to repent for everything he'd done, for everything everyone had done. He should've felt honored for what I was about to do; just like Christ, he was going to atone for everyone else's sins.

One flick of the claw on my index finger, and his heart was rended in two.