by JC Holly
Snow nodded, then fingered his burn. “This is from before. As soon as she died, the magic failed.”
“What about the body?” Mica asked. “What if someone finds her?”
Snow shook his head. “We have people who’ll take care of it.”
“Good. I wasn’t looking forward to burying her.”
The three left the cabin, Jerry supported by Snow and Mica, and headed back to their cars. The other shifters joined them on the way and Jerry filled them in on the rest of the details, and told them to inform Conway, too.
“And one other thing,” he said, as the shifters turned to leave. “Tell him I quit.”
Chapter Eighteen
It took a month for Jerry’s back to fully heal. Neither had realized how severe the injury was, and even the supernatural doctors they used weren’t sure how Jerry had managed to finish the fight and get home without collapsing. A human would have been in a wheelchair for the rest of their life. It took another month before Conway stopped trying to get him to return to the pack. Jerry was resolute, though. As he told Mica, he’d had enough of playing the action hero. He was retired.
Once summer arrived, they bundled into a hired van and headed back to Mica’s hometown to collect the rest of his things and introduce his mother to Jerry. Mica also got all the details about his father that he could, but he doubted he’d ever find him. He wasn’t even sure he’d try. Still, he liked to be prepared.
The day after Mica was officially moved in, Jerry presented him with a key to the door. As Mica was laughing at that, Jerry also presented him with a small box. As Mica opened it, Jerry dropped to a knee, wincing slightly from his back.
“I know it hasn’t been that long,” Jerry said. “But we’ve been through a hell of a lot together in such a short time.”
Mica just stared at the ring, words suddenly impossible to grasp.
“I love you more than I thought I could love anyone or anything,” Jerry continued, his voice thick. “It won’t be the easiest life, I’m sure. Even out of the pack, there are still dangers out there. That witch didn’t work alone, and we don’t know what’s to come. I don’t want to let you go, though, and I know that together we’ll beat any odds.”
Mica swallowed hard, then again. After a deep breath he managed to get his voice box under control once more.
“Yes,” he said with a grin.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JC lives in the south of England and spends the free hours of each day reading, writing, and indulging various other hobbies, in the company of Tuna the cat. JC has been writing for several years now, and refuses to acknowledge proper house attire, or people who say things like, "When are you getting a real job?" and, "Can I be in your next book?"
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