“Fine,” I said, arching an eyebrow. “But stay out of my way when the time comes.”
“Nah. You’ve saved my life at least twice. I need to catch up.”
“Actually, it’s been at least three times. Not counting all the times I refrained from pushing you in front of an oncoming train. So more like a dozen, if we’re being honest.”
He grinned. “I love you, too.”
It hit me all over again: he was alive. Here. Back with me. The grief I’d buried surged up.
I had truly thought he was gone.
Jeremy pulled me close. He was stronger than before, but still gentle. I could have pulled away, but I didn’t.
I wanted to stay there, safe in his arms, breathing in his cut-grass-and-incense scent. For the first time, I wanted to not only be happy, but to let myself believe it could last.
“It will,” he whispered into my ear. “We can do this forever.”
Abruptly, I realized we were alone. Nathaniel and Simone had stepped away to give us space. It was just us now. And in Jeremy’s arms, I could almost believe in eternity.
I knew better than to ask for promises. Eight centuries had taught me that.
“I’ll promise anyway,” Jeremy said gruffly. “I’ll be yours forever, if you’ll have me.”
Though I should have reminded him I wasn’t a sap swayed by pretty words, I smiled instead. He had that effect.
“Forever is a long time, wolf.”
“It’s not long enough.”
I kissed the side of his neck, pulling him tighter. We’d figure the rest out later. For this moment, everything was perfect.
I sighed, happy and soft. Maybe I was becoming one of those idealistic saps I loved so much. And maybe that was fine.
I kissed him again, meeting his gaze. “Forever it is, then.”
EPILOGUE || THIERRY
It turned out that while Jeremy could survive on human blood if he needed to, extremely rare meat—the kind you wave over a hot grill to show it who’s boss—was also an acceptable source of nutrients for his newly changed body. I suspected this was because a werewolf is technically part animal, and therefore, animal blood sufficed just fine. Jeremy didn’t seem too worried about the details. He was mostly relieved he hadn’t turned into something his former pack would need to hunt.
The only bad part about his new diet was that his body no longer wanted anything but rare meat or human blood. Unlike an ordinary vampire, Jeremy couldn’t stomach regular food anymore.
His hunger wasn’t like a vampire’s, either. It wasn’t the crazed frenzy most newborns endure for months after turning. He was perfectly at ease around humans, with or without me present. When he did need to feed, he described the hunger as essentially the same as when his heart had still beat in his chest. Manageable. Almost—but not quite—human.
Sunlight hardly affected him. More than that, he no longer needed the moon to transform. Somehow, the mixture of vampire and wolf blood running through his veins was all the magic he needed.
And while he was no longer alpha—that mantle had, in fact, passed to Reed—he could still control his shift. He discoveredthis after he had accidentally shredded his blanket. A single thought was all it took. He would need to learn restraint.
We stayed in Crescent Springs for only one night after his transformation. The pack was wary of him. Lindsey seemed to understand Jeremy was still her brother, and Reed would likely come around, but the rest kept their distance. Perhaps they’d accept him eventually, perhaps not. Jeremy assured me it didn’t need to be soon.
I was deliriously happy. Jeremy was alive. Or—well, not dead. He had come back to me.
The only dark cloud came when Poppy, Ethan, and Daniel examined the fissures the creatures had crawled out of. They were still trying to cobble together the spell to stabilize the bleeds, using Ethan’s blood.
Jeremy, Simone, Nathaniel, and I stood guard. After all, other creatures might have escaped from tears the wolves hadn’t covered. The bleeds occasionally opened in unpredictable places.
A few minutes into their efforts, Poppy shot to her feet, paler than usual. “No. No way.”
I turned to see the fissure glowing faintly gold, the ground around it shining with residual magic.