Chapter Three
513 Words
MJ’s POV
My back cracks in five different places as I extract myself from my seat. Keeping up appearances so my family doesn’t find out my job means flying coach instead of the company jet. If I didn’t want kids before, sitting next to a screaming baby and having a toddler kicking my chair the entire flight, sure as hell sealed that box up forever. Climbing down the stairs with everyone else, I feel like cattle as we all file towards the baggage claim. I told my family that I would get home solo and there was no need to pick me up and I was glad to see they listened as I grab my luggage and jumped into the ride I called. I crack the window a little, needing fresh air after being cooped in the plane, breathing nothing but recycled air, and let my mind wander as the familiar smell of home envelopes me.
No matter how long I stay away, it always makes me feel good to come home. My family is my everything. They’re the reasons I do what I do. I protect our pack, our world, and I do it for them.
As my ride stops when I tell them, I take a deep breath and prepare myself to have to lie to my family. I walk into the woods, shifting when I’m far enough in that no one driving by will see me, and grab the strap of my bag in my jaws before taking off at a run. All the familiar sounds and smells of home flood me as the breeze whips through my fur. A little bit of panic sets in as I approach the pack house. The air is vibrating with energy and yet the house is oddly quiet. The pack house is never quiet.
Shifting behind a tree, I dress quickly and run into the house, hoping to check in with Seth before seeing my family. But instead I’m greeted by a smell I haven’t smelt in the pack house for 4 years. At least not this strongly. I follow it up to Seth’s office where I stop dead in my tracks. My throat tightens at the sight of my older sister arguing with our alpha, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.
“Mia.” My voice cracks on her name, and when she turns to me the tears fall and I run to crush her in a hug. 4 years. She’d been cursed for 4 years. Every time I visited her in her hospital room, I prayed to the Goddess that it would be the last, and she would be awake. Her warm chuckle has me squeezing tighter as she hugs me back just as tight.
“How? When? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” All the questions spew from me as I pulled back from the hug to stare at my sister. She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and pats my cheek.
“Come on. We have some catching up to do.”
- Writer
