He’d started this, had forced them all to fight for a new beginning. How could he leave them when the hard work was just beginning?
“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing he could think to say.
Isaac cupped his jaw and kissed him. His hands slid into Michael’s hair, fingers gripping tight as he pulled Michael against him. It tasted like sadness and regret, and Michael wrapped his arms around Isaac’s waist, anchoring him there, wishing more than anything that he never had to let him go.
He kissed him back just as hard, wanting Isaac to feel that this wasn’t the end for them, but the beginning of something they’d waited more than five years to see. Fisting the back of Isaac’s T-shirt, he clung to him for as long as he could, but in the end, it still felt far too much like goodbye.
With a heavy sigh, Isaac pulled back. His gaze lingered on Michael’s for a long drawn out second before he turned to Jacob. “Show me where the wounded are. I’ll see what I can do to help.”
Michael watched him go, each step that separated them like a vice around his heart.
* * *
Isaac straightened,giving Smith a warm smile. “It’s all healed. Not even a scar to show for it.”
Smith grinned and pulled his T-shirt back on. “Thank you.” He reached and gripped Isaac’s forearm. “For everything.”
“My pleasure. Now go find Nick before even Callum gets sick of his pacing.”
Smith laughed but did as he was told.
Isaac watched him go, with a bittersweet feeling in his chest. Smith’s injuries had been worse than they’d thought. For a while there, Isaac had worried they wouldn’t be able to save him. He’d brought him and Nick back to Mothecombe, fixed the mess Rich had made, and let the sea air do the rest.
But he’d left behind a huge part of himself in the process.
And it hurt.
It had been a little over two weeks since he’d said goodbye to Michael and brought his pack home. Sixteen days, if he was counting.
And he was.
He so definitely was.
“All right?” Callum stood in the doorway to the clinic, watching him with concern like he had every day since they’d left London.
“Yeah, good.” His voice sounded flat, but he couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm. Not today.
The full moon was tonight.
Isaac had hoped Michael would be able to get away from London. To run with Isaac along the beach like Isaac had wanted ever since he’d come back into his life. But the text he’d received that morning had ruined that plan.
It still sat unanswered on his phone.
Callum frowned. “Why don’t you go to London?”
It wasn’t the first time he’d suggested it. The pack would be fine. With the London packs under new leadership where necessary and the old Shifter Council disbanded, the packs around the country had easily fallen in line with the new government. Just like they’d hoped.
There was no threat to his pack.
“I can’t.” Isaac shuddered. He still felt a phantom pain in his jaw from time to time. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, being tortured by Simon had affected him more than he’d thought.
Even the suggestion of returning to London set him on edge.
He couldn’t go back.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
