Page 71 of Curses and Casualties
“Well, you’re getting your wish. It doesn’t get much wilder than completing a Soul Bond while being hunted by your entire pack and then some.”
A distant, frustrated howl echoes through the forest—the pack still searching futilely outside our magical barriers.
“They really can’t find us?” Georgia asks.
“Not a chance. Jules wasn’t kidding about the protections.”
The need to be near her suddenly overwhelms everything else. Rules, instructions, magical preparations—none of it matters as much as holding my mate.
“Fuck it,” I mutter, standing.
“Ryan, what?—”
I’m already stepping around the curtain. “No funny business,” I promise, holding up my hands in surrender. “I just... I need to be near you.”
Chapter 26
Ryan
Georgia looks up at me, eyes wide, water droplets clinging to her collarbone. For a moment I think she’ll send me back to my side. Then she shifts forward, making room.
“Get in before you freeze.”
The tub is barely big enough for both of us, but we make it work. She settles between my legs, her back against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her. The blessed water sloshes gently around us.
“This is nice,” she says after a moment.
“Mm.” I press a kiss to her wet hair. “Tell me about field work. Your happiest day. No magic, no monsters. Just you and the rocks.”
She giggles, the sound bubbling up easily. “You really want rocks?”
“Desperately.”
She leans her head back against my shoulder, the delicate line of her jaw bright with droplets. “Once, sophomore year, my advisor took a handful of his best students to Australia so we could visit the Painted Hills. It’s this kaleidoscope of banded rock, millions of years of ancient soils stacked up like rainbow layer cake. We were camping—actual tents, not fae-glamourhotels—and I woke up at dawn on the coldest morning of my life. Which shocked me, because I always thought Australia was constantly hot. But the mist was so thick it hurt to breathe. But just before the sun rose, the colors started to bleed through, and it was like the bones of the whole planet were glowing. For a second, I thought I’d hallucinated it. It was so beautiful I started to cry.”
I cup her cheek, careful of the way her wet hair sticks in whorls around her jaw. “You’re the only person I’ve ever met who gets emotional about rocks.”
“They’re not just rocks,” she says, mock-indignant, but she’s smiling now, the green in her eyes nearly eclipsed by the brightness of the silver. “They’re proof of time. Every layer a memory. A record of everything that ever happened, long after anyone remembers the names.”
The words hum against my collarbone, and for a second, I’m overwhelmed by the sense of how fleeting my own life is compared to the scale she loves. If this is the last day I’m with her, I want her to know I understand. That I see her, down to her moon-glow marrow.
“If we get out of this together, I want you to promise you’ll take me to see those hills.”
She tilts her head back, lips parted in surprise. “Promise. But only if you promise you’ll howl the loudest of any wolf at sunrise.”
“It’s a deal.” She turns in the tub, her legs tangling with mine. My hands settle at her waist.
“Why don’t you tell me something now? No magic. No wolves. Just good memories.”
I draw in a long breath, letting the steamy fragrant air settle in my chest. “I do have a story that involves a wolf. But it’s from when I was fifteen—no magic.”
“Go on then.”
“The local wildlife rescue put out this call for volunteers. Our town was damp and nothing-to-do, so Owen and I thought it would be at worst a few afternoons away from home, and at best, a place where girls might talk to us.”
Georgia grins, chin on my chest. “How’d that work out?”
I nuzzle her temple. “We ended up on cleanup crew. Not glamorous. We spent three weekends straight shoveling raccoon waste, scrubbing cages, and carrying crates of frozen pet food to the freezer. The girl who ran the register had a crush on Owen, so I did most of the work.”
