I loved him so much in that moment it almost hurt.
"Gumbo," I said softly, setting down my coffee and leaning forward, letting my voice carry across the water. "Baby. He's pack. You know that, right? You've seen him with me. You've seen all of them with me." I paused, choosing my next words carefully, knowing somewhere deep in my bones that Gumbo understood more than any ordinary animal should. "They're mine. That means they're yours to protect too."
Gumbo's eyes shifted to me. Something passed between us—that old, wordless communication we'd developed over years of shared solitude.
"I trust them," I continued, holding his gaze, pouring every ounce of sincerity I had into the words. "I trust him. He's not going to hurt me. He's not going to leave. And I need you to give him a chance."
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then Gumbo began to move. Remy went rigid beside me, every muscle in his body locking up, his breath catching audibly in his chest. I put a hand on his thigh—partly to comfort him, partly to keep him from bolting.
"Don't run," I murmured, keeping my voice calm and steady. "Whatever you do, don't run."
"Wasn't planning on it," Remy said through gritted teeth, his voice strained but determined. "Can't feel my legs anyway."
Gumbo glided through the water with that eerie, effortless grace that had always reminded me of something ancient and eternal. The ripples spread outward in his wake, catching the light, and I watched as he approached the dock—approached Remy—with a deliberateness that made my heart pound.
He stopped about three feet away. Close enough that Remy could see every scale, every scar, every inch of those massive jaws.
The chicken trembled slightly in Remy's outstretched hand.
"Hey there, big guy," Remy said, his voice barely above a whisper, sweat beading at his temples despite the relative cool of the morning. "Nice and easy, yeah? I come in peace. Just a humble Cajun boy trying to make friends with his girlfriend's terrifying dinosaur."
Gumbo opened his mouth.
I heard Remy's sharp inhale, saw his whole body brace for impact— Then Gumbo, with a gentleness that belied his size and reputation, took the chicken from Remy's hand.
Not his fingers. Not his arm. Just the chicken.
He didn't even graze the skin.
Remy stared at his hand—still attached, still whole, still possessing all five fingers—like he couldn't quite believe what had just happened. "I... he... did that just...?" he stammered, his voice climbing an octave, his amber eyes wide with disbelief.
"Yeah," I said, my own voice a little thick as I watched Gumbo settle back into the water with his prize, ancient eyes still fixed on Remy. "Yeah, he did."
Gumbo swallowed the chicken in two efficient bites. Then, while we both watched in stunned silence, he glided forward again—and bumped his massive snout against Remy's dangling feet.
Not a threat. Not a warning.
A greeting.
"Oh," Remy breathed, something cracking open in his voice, his amber eyes going suspiciously bright. "Oh, okay. We're doing this. We're friends now. This is happening."
Very slowly, very carefully, he reached down and touched Gumbo's snout. Just his fingertips, barely there, trembling slightly.
Gumbo rumbled.
It was the same sound he made when I scratched behind his eye ridges. The same sound he made when he was content, when he was pleased, when he'd decided something was good and right and worthy of his prehistoric approval.
Remy let out a laugh that was half sob, his whole body shaking with it, his hand still pressed against Gumbo's scales. "Chere, your alligator likes me. Your terrifying murder dinosaur actually likes me."
"Looks like it," I managed, my voice thick with emotion, and I was definitely not crying, absolutely not, it was just the morning light making my eyes water.
"I gotta tell Harper and Silas," Remy said, still laughing, still touching Gumbo like he couldn't quite believe he was allowed. "They're not gonna believe this. I've been trying for months and he finally?—"
He stopped. Swallowed hard. When he looked at me, his amber eyes were swimming with emotions I'd rarely seen him let show.
"I'm in," he said quietly, his voice raw and honest in a way it almost never was. "I'm all the way in. You know that, right? This pack, this family, you—I'm not running. I'm not leaving. I'm staying right here, even if your guard dog is a nine-foot alligator who's definitely judged me for every bad decision I've ever made."
