Page 45 of Curses and Casualties (Hunters Hollow #3)

Georgia

A fter I throw on actual clothes—jeans and a comfortable sweater that doesn’t scream ‘I was just rolling naked in the forest’—we settle in the kitchen. Ryan’s already pulling together lunch with the practiced ease of someone who’s gotten used to feeding a mate with supernatural metabolism.

Jason takes a seat at our pine table beside Scarlett. “So tell me how this all works. Pack dynamics, Soul Bonds, the rainbow eyes and that glow you get.”

Over sandwiches thick with local honey and stories thicker with magic, we paint him a picture of our world. The victories and ongoing challenges, the beautiful and the terrifying.

“You think you’ll ever tell Mom and Dad?” he asks eventually.

“Maybe someday. When we’re all more ready.” I fidget with my water glass. “It’s not exactly a conversation you ease into.”

“Your secret’s safe,” Jason promises. “Though Mom would love Ryan, supernatural or not. He makes you happy. That’s all she’s ever wanted for you.”

“Maybe we could visit,” Ryan suggests, surprising me. “Just as regular people. No mention of the wolf situation.”

“You’d do that?”

“Georgia, I’d do anything for you. Meeting your parents seems tame compared to facing down insane Elders.”

Jason laughs. “Oh man, you have no idea what you’re signing up for. Dad’s interrogation techniques make enhanced interrogation look friendly.”

“I survived an ancient wolf hell-bent on destroying our bond. I think I can handle your father.”

“Famous last words,” Jason and I say together, then dissolve into giggles.

Scarlett helps me take the dishes into the kitchen then leans against the counter with her can of seltzer—spiked with witches’ whiskey since it’s one of the only kinds of alcohol shifters can feel.

She does it when she thinks I’m not looking, and she gets caught every time, and does it anyway.

And I get it. She’s still dealing with a lot.

“I like your brother,” she says, her voice pitched low enough it almost gets lost in the hum of the fridge. “He seems pretty chill.”

“He is,” I say, sliding the dishes into the dishwasher. “It’s weird seeing him here though. Like two worlds colliding.”

Scarlett glances at her watch and straightens up suddenly. “Shit, I forgot about Ethan. We’re supposed to be checking the northern boundary today.”

“Everything OK up there?” Ryan asks, his Alpha instincts immediately kicking in.

“Just routine. Those new wolves from Seattle want territory assurances before they relocate. Everyone’s hoping that if they come here, they’ll find their soul-bound mate too.” She tosses back the rest of her drink in one gulp. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. You entertain your brother.”

She grabs her jacket from the hook by the door. “Nice to see you again, Jason. Don’t believe anything Georgia tells you about me.”

“Too late,” I call after her. “I already told him about the karaoke incident!”

“You wouldn’t dare!” She points an accusing finger at me, but she’s laughing as she heads out the door.

I watch through the window as she jogs down the porch steps.

She’s barely reached the tree line when a massive silver-gray wolf emerges from the shadows.

Even from here, I can see Fenris’s ragged limp, the way he favors his right side—painful, permanent.

Even with supernatural healing, there’s a limit.

But there’s an air to the way he moves now, a pride, even in brokenness.

He bows his head as Scarlett approaches, and for a moment she just stands in front of him, eyes searching his face, fingers hesitant at his jaw.

Then she bends down, her hands framing his battered head, and presses her forehead to his.

The moment is intensely private, so full of forgiveness and longing that I feel like I should look away.

Instead, I commit it to memory, knowing it’s the kind of moment that saves a life, not just a day.

Jason sets his coffee down, watching through the window too. “Is that the wolf from the compound? The one you said almost died?”

“That’s Fenris,” I say softly. “Scarlett’s—it’s complicated, but they’re soul-bound, like Ryan and me.”

“He doesn’t shift back to human much,” Ryan adds. “It hurts him. The man side—Magnus—he resists the bond. Or did for a long time. But they’re trying to work it out.”

Jason whistles. “Heavy.”

“Pack is complicated,” I say, sitting beside him. “Family is complicated.”

“Worth it though?” Jason asks, and there’s genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Every complicated, messy, wonderful bit of it,” I confirm. “Come on, let me show you around properly. Can’t have you going back to Mom and Dad without the full tour.”

We spend the next hour walking through our territory, and I watch Jason’s mind cataloging everything.

The training grounds where young wolves learn control.

The community garden Ethan insisted on, with a, “Wolves need hobbies too.” The nearly complete nursery building, waiting for the next generation we all hope is coming.

“Three pregnant wolves now,” I tell him as we pass the medical center. “Since Ryan and I freed the magic, fertility’s returning. First successful pregnancies in decades.”

“So your legacy’s already secured,” Jason teases. “What’s next? Running for Alpha president?”

“Not likely. We’re kind of making up the structure as we go. But it’s really important to us that there’s no absolute power anymore. We lead as a pack.”

I point out Amara guiding young witches through containment spells, her voice carrying the authority that makes even me think twice about interrupting.

At the edge of the yard, Ryan and Owen are deep in brotherly conversation, occasionally glancing at the training field with matching expressions of pride and exasperation.

This is what peace looks like for us. Wolves, witches, even the occasional vampire who stops by for questionable drinking games with visiting úlfhéenar. We’re a patchwork family stitched together by crisis, but still—family.

I’m lost in the rightness of it when Jason stops short at the hill’s crest. “Whoa. You didn’t mention the view.”

The valley spreads below us in impossible green beauty. The waterfall creates rainbow mist in the afternoon sun, cabins scattered like carefully placed stones, the air alive with birdsong and distant wolf calls.

“Looks like that old picture you hung in your dorm room,” Jason says quietly. “The one with the meadow and purple mountains.”

I bump his shoulder. “This is better. The grass is louder.”

“Louder?”

“Wolf hearing. When Ryan and I shift, we run through those trees and I swear the sound gets under your skin, not just in your ears.” I pull him closer to the edge where the wind is strong.

“You should try running sometime. Not the shifting part, but running until your troubles disappear. Almost as good.”

Jason stares at the shifting colors in the waterfall. Finally he says, “I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“Why you haven’t come home. This place...” He shakes his head, laughing. “You belong here, Georgie. Really belong, in a way I’ve never seen before.”

It shouldn’t mean so much to hear that, but it does. My vision blurs and I have to wipe my eyes. “Thanks for understanding.”

We stand together in comfortable silence, wind stirring the grass, voices carrying up from the pack below. For one perfect heartbeat, the future feels like something to want instead of fear.

By the time we make it back to the cabin, the sun is sliding toward the mountains and my stomach is growling again. Ryan’s in the kitchen working magic with leftover roast and fresh vegetables.

“So what happens now?” Jason asks, settling back at our table. “Long-term, I mean. You can’t just hide up here forever.”

“We’re not hiding,” I say. “We’re building something new. But you’re right—eventually we’ll have to engage with the outside world more.”

“The Supernatural Council is still out there,” Ryan adds, not looking up from his cooking. “They’re regrouping, trying to reassert control. Some days we get diplomatic overtures. Other days it’s barely veiled threats.”

“Sounds familiar,” Jason says dryly. “Politics is politics, even with werewolves.”

“The difference is, we have something they want now,” I explain. “Our bond changed the rules. Magic flows freely again, which means new Soul Bonds are forming. The old ways of controlling power don’t work anymore.”

“That’s got to terrify them.”

“Probably why they haven’t made any overt moves yet,” Ryan says, bringing over plates piled high with food. “They’re still figuring out how to fight us without starting a supernatural war.”

Jason whistles low. “Heavy responsibility.”

“Every day,” I agree. “But worth it. For the first time, wolves are having cubs again. Young witches don’t have to hide their power. Even some of the vampire clans are reaching out for alliance discussions.”

“You’re changing the world.”

“The world was ready to change,” Ryan corrects. “We just helped it along.”

The afternoon passes too quickly. Jason has stories from home—Dad finally thinking about retirement, Mom’s terrible but beloved watercolor paintings, neighborhood gossip that makes me homesick in the best way.

But as the sun sinks lower, reality intrudes. Jason glances at his watch and sighs.

“I should head back soon. Don’t want to navigate mountain roads in the dark.”

My chest tightens. “I wish you could stay longer.”

“Me too. But this was perfect, Georgie. Seeing you here, seeing you happy...” He reaches across to squeeze my hand. “I’m proud of you. Both of you.”

We walk him to his car as the first stars appear. The hug he gives me is fierce and long.

“Come back anytime,” I tell him, meaning every word. “You’re always welcome.”

“Even during full moons?” he teases.

“You can definitely come then. Just be warned—we get a little intense.”

He shakes Ryan’s hand, much more comfortable now than this morning. “Take care of her.”

“Always,” Ryan promises.

As Jason’s taillights disappear down the mountain road, I lean into Ryan’s solid warmth. “That went well.”

“Very well. Your brother’s good people.”

“He is.” I turn in his arms, hands resting on his chest. “Thank you. For making him feel welcome, for being willing to meet my parents, for just... everything.”

“That’s what mates do,” he says simply, kissing my forehead.

We head back toward our cabin, stopping on the porch to watch the valley shift through twilight’s moods—golden to blue to that electric gray before true dark. Nothing waits but a rising moon and the kind of peace that makes my heart ache with gratitude.

Ryan’s arms circle me from behind, warm hands settling on my stomach. “What are you thinking?”

I lean back against his shoulder. “Hard to believe this started with a rock and a very bad hiking decision. Sometimes I wait for the world to realize we’re the ones holding it together now.”

He rumbles with laughter. “Let it try. We’ll run faster.”

“I want that. All of it.” My old life feels like someone else’s memory. The future? Ours to write.

His fingers find mine, looping us together. “You know,” he says casually, “I never asked if you wanted a ring, too.”

I snort, tipping my face up to his. “You want to get married, Mr. Alpha?”

“Do you?” He says it lightly, but his breath has stilled.

My mouth curves into a giant grin. “Yeah. I think I do.”

He smiles—all smug wolf and tender man. “I happen to know there’s an old pack tradition. If you propose during the full moon and get rejected, you have to streak naked through the entire valley.”

“Risky proposition. This is a very large valley.”

His laugh is so full and unguarded I memorize it for whatever challenges tomorrow might bring. “Lucky for me, I know you can’t resist a good story.”

“I’m more interested in doing something that’s just ours,” I say, turning fully in his arms. “No ancient curses, no supernatural drama. Just us.”

“So you’re saying yes.”

“I’m saying yes times infinity.” I stretch up and kiss him until the world falls away again.

When we break apart, the full moon is rising over the mountains, painting everything silver.

Tomorrow there will be pack meetings and territorial disputes and probably another complaint from Mrs. Strickland.

There will be challenges to navigate and a supernatural world still adjusting to the changes we’ve made.

But tonight? Tonight, there’s just us. Two souls who found each other against impossible odds, who shattered curses and moved mountains and built something worth fighting for in the aftermath.

I press my hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and sure beneath my palm. This—all of this—was worth every terrifying, glorious moment that led us here.

“Come on, future husband,” I say, tugging him toward our door. “Let’s go practice for our honeymoon.”

His laughter follows me into our home, into our life, into our perfectly imperfect ever after.