Hard not to be in a good mood when the entire world was going your way; that was one of McKenna’s little proverbs. Jack caught himself whistling while he shaved—a good morning habit, even if the change made it practically unnecessary—and smiling as he chose a shirt. There was even the temptation to dance a few steps before he left his bedroom, because not only was his demie found and alive, but she had well and truly thawed.
demieMaybe it was the late-night talk, maybe it was waking in his arms, or maybe it was just that his pheromones were naturally appealing and comforting. Or maybe it was all of the above. The point of a miracle remained, its mere existence more than enough. She relaxed around him, looked to him for guidance, and soon enough he could move to the next stage, easing her
