Page 113 of Magic's Rise

Griffen steps forward, his eyes locked on the moon. Then his body breaks down on itself and reforms, his back lengthening and his legs shortening as his face pushes out into a muzzle.

It’s not the easy shift from man to wolf that Haut goes through, but it’s fast. And when Griffen rises, instead of the monstrous beast we’ve come to know as the cursed werewolf, a regular, majestic wolf stands in his place, free from the darkness.

“Wow,” I breathe, unable to tear my eyes away.

One by one, the rest of the people follow suit, until a pack of wolves stands before us.

My gaze seeks Haut, and relief sweeps through me to find him still in his human form, the moon holding no sway over him. Jacob’s bite didn’t turn him into a werewolf.

“Look at them,” Kaela says, her voice filled with awe. “They’re beautiful.”

“Damn right they are.” Aspen grins at me over the dying fire. “And we made this happen.”

I nod. “Teamwork makes the dream work.”

And none of this would ever have happened if not for Jacob. He had accomplished what he wanted, and werewolves are now free of their drive to kill. Too bad he’ll never know how much he helped the pack he tried to destroy.

With a howl that sends shivers down my spine, Griffen leads the werewolves away, their newfound freedom clear in the way they bound through the underbrush.

Before they disappear entirely, Levi trots over to us. His golden eyes meet mine, filled with gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” I say.

He rubs against us, warm fur brushing our legs, then with a final flick of his tail, he turns and races off to rejoin his people.

HOMECOMING

Two days after we abolished the werewolf curse, we roll into Hartford Cove in a brand-new minivan, courtesy of Griffen, who had it packed and ready as soon as we finished breakfast at the pack compound.

It was a little thank you for everything we’d done and will hopefully buy our forgiveness from Barron for wrecking his baby.

As we cruise up Main Street, the festival is still in full swing, and relief fills me that we didn’t miss the entire shebang.

“Looks like we’re in time for the blessing, Rowe,” Tris teases, leaning forward from the back seat.

I grumble in response, but deep down, I don’t despise the idea as much as I used to. After seeing the werewolves in Silver Hollow freed from their curse, I want to bring that same happiness to our wolf shifters.

Even if I’m not convinced my belly rubs do anything to help them procreate, their belief is what counts.

We stop at the sheriff’s station to drop off Aspen, and as soon as he hobbles out of the van, Mel pounces on him in a lip lock that makes me gag in disgust.

“Get a room!” I yell out my window.

“Mel and Aspen, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Tris sings as Haut pulls back onto the road.

We leave them to their public indecency and continue on our way home. I suppress a shudder when we drive past the town statue, which had been unveiled while we were gone so I wouldn’t have to pretend happiness over being immortalized in bronze.

Up the long driveway to our house, something catches my eye, and I smash my face against the window. “Someone put a hat on our house!”

I turn to Haut, unable to contain my excitement over the brand-new steepled roof and railing on my widow walk.

Haut chuckles and Tris grins, both saying, “Surprise!”

“We’d already planned the railing. The old one looked ready to fall over, and wasn’t nearly tall enough,” Tris explains. “But your enthusiasm for the turret inspired us to call Owen and have him add a covered area, so you can still enjoy it in bad weather.”

“But not too bad. If the wind is strong enough to bend the trees, you’re staying inside,” Haut cautions. “No blowing off the top of the house.”

“We can just tie a string around her waist,” Tris teases.

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