But he didn't know love would feel like this, when he finally allowed himself to accept it. It was so anarchic ... ranging to such extremes, for better or worse. It made Harry lose his mind either way. And he was senselessly content at either pole. Whether he was wildly enraged in his defence of his love, or passionate in embracing it, he was equally heightened, and so very alive. And, in a life that had diced so casually with death, there was something to be said for that.