by J. K Harper
“So,” she finally said, slowly, “let me get this straight. You were coming out to DC to be with me, and I was coming back here to be with you. You were willing to give up your life here for me, and I was willing to give up big city life to be with you. Hmm,” she said with a mock frown. “Do you think maybe we're meant to be mates or something?”
This time, he didn't restrain his peal of laughter, even though his wolf managed to just barely underscore it with a depth that had a passerby give Connor an odd look before shaking his head and walking on.
“I'd say that might be a yes, mate,” he replied.
“I'll take it,” she said softly, her gray eyes shimmering.
“Sounds like a plan,” he said back, just as softly. Then he cocked his head. “You know, it's the solstice today.”
“Mm-hmm,” she said, gently pulling him toward the front doors.
“Think you're up for a run with the pack under the full moon to celebrate the longest night of the year? And then I think we'll be celebrating on our own afterward.” He kept his voice low, but knew her heightened hearing would hear him perfectly well.
She squeezed his hand. “I think I am more than ready to start running with you again, Connor. And the pack. It's in our blood, after all.” She smiled at him as she started to walk faster. “Let's hurry. I can't wait. For the run, or the part afterward,” she added with a deliciously wicked smile.
Connor's wolf sent him ecstatic images of running with his sleek mate through the snow-covered mountains, silver moonlight shining off their coats as they leapt and played and ran with their packmates.
“Me neither, love,” he said, lengthening his own stride as well. “Happy winter solstice. And welcome home.”
“Welcome home yourself, love,” she said, and they stepped out into the clear, crisp air under the winter sky, together.
* * *
To read more about Lia and Connor and find out some fun news about them, be sure to read Fire Wolf, which features Connor’s sister Jordyn and her sexy firefighter Tanner Canagan (who is related to Jace Canagan from Protector Wolf). Both books are coming up in this set, so keep reading!
Turn the page to read Book 4.5, Christmas Wolf!
Christmas Wolf
A Black Mesa Wolves Holiday Tale
Dedication
Here's to the magic of Christmas, especially Christmastime love
1
Snowflakes gently nestled in Ana Lyall's hair as she strolled along Main Street. Every business in town had festive lights strung around their windows, across their entryways, draped over their merry displays of gifts galore. Noel Night in Durango, Colorado, when local stores threw open their doors and offered hot drinks, snacks, gift-wrapping stations, and even staff dressed up as elves, was always an extravagant yet welcoming event in her small mountain home. Downtown blazed with color and peals of laughter.
Ana adored every single second of it. She was a sucker for Christmas. By the time the first week of December rolled around, she'd already gone all out on her tree, the sparkly decorations, cookie-making, and organizing the pack's annual holiday celebration. Although as an omega wolf she was naturally a little reserved and subservient, it also ensured her role as head of the fun patrol for the Black Mesa Wolf Pack. Her enthusiasm for the holidays and her innate organizational skills made her the pack's unofficial social maven and party planner extraordinaire.
This evening she idled her way through the other shoppers simply because she enjoyed being out, soaking up as much Christmas spirit as she could possibly handle. Snagging a paper cup of spiced hot apple cider from a large thermos set up outside one of the brightly-lit bakeries, she also grabbed a large, soft gingerbread cookie to nibble on. The cider warmed her hands, although she knew she wasn't as cold as the humans surrounding her. Her wolf shifter DNA ensured that. Despite being as warmly bundled up as everyone else wandering downtown, she didn't need the layers quite as much. That was one of the distinctions between being a true predator, and being more like prey. Not that humans were prey, of course. But at their essence they were too removed from shapeshifters. Like having bodies that were much more vulnerable to the environment's whims. Humans lacked the instincts of shifters, and that alone made them softer and more defenseless. Different.
Hunt? Her wolf asked, sounding sleepy but stirred by Ana's rambling thoughts about predator and prey.
Ana laughed to herself. Later, she assured, picturing herself padding on stealthy paws through the deep, silent forest behind the main den's property, stalking the small creatures that lived there. First, I need to shop.
Her wolf made a disdainful, bored sound, then rolled over in Ana's mind to return to sleep.
Wolves weren't really keen on holidays. But Ana very much appreciated her human side's enjoyment of simple pleasures such as oohing and aahing over cute little trinkets on sellers' shelves. The sight of adorable, saucer-eyed little kids staring in wonder at displays of prancing reindeer and cheerful Santas made her smile, as did the classic seasonal tunes that drifted from speakers mounted outside the post office. She sighed with pleasure when she saw a pile of beautifully wrapped packages artfully arranged beneath a large fir tree in the eclectic home goods store on her left. Impulsively, she turned and went inside. The piney scent of the tree and laughing chatter from people milling around immediately wrapped her in a feeling of cozy holiday cheer nothing could shake.
Nothing, that is, except the sight of the one person in the entire world she didn't want to see. The one she hadn't seen in months, by careful design. The one who made her stupid heart flutter and all her lady bits immediately rouse to attention.
The damned alarmingly sexy one bearing down on her right now with the same intensity and focus of a locomotive running steady on its track. His eyes held hers with such a blast of the simmering passion she remembered that all her limbs abruptly seemed turned to liquid. Her wolf slammed into the forefront of her mind, fully alert and keenly interested.
“Oh, crap,” Ana breathed to herself, suddenly frozen in place. There was no escaping him.
Mason Pearce strode up to her, his expression unreadable but for the strong emotion playing behind his startlingly blue eyes. Those eyes had been the first thing Ana had noticed about him two summers ago. They'd captivated her then as they did now, making the sensuous connection between them blaze ever hotter the closer he got. Humans didn't know to not stare straight at a wolf, that it was considered a challenge. Despite that, Ana felt the unmistakeable power of this particular human's gaze.
The power to make her drop her panties, that is.
Not wolf, her wolf thought at her, lasering on Mason. Not not wolf.
Sure. That clears things right up, Ana thought back distractedly, staring almost mesmerized at the man who approached her with his easy yet determined grace.
Ana's wolf had taken an instant liking to Mason from their very first meeting. One which had ended with Ana and Mason tangled together in his bed, tongues and lips and fingers feasting on one another for nearly three days of a euphoric, lushly sensual experience they'd managed to repeat multiple times during the following year. A year of her body and soul opening to him in ways she couldn't understand and would never be able to explain to her wolf pack. Humans and shifters could never be true mates. Sure, they could date, they could enjoy each other's company and have light fun—but love was out of the question. Humans could never know about shifters, upon pain of death. And never, ever would she endanger this man.
She broke things off with barely an explanation, already terrified she'd given too much of her heart to a human who could never know what she was, who could never share an open, trusting life with her. A man who would think she was insane if she ever told him she could shapeshift into a creamy cinnamon-brown wolf at will and go bounding on four legs into the mountains, tail and all.
A man who, based on ancient pack law, she would have to kill herself if she ever told him the truth about the shadowy, mythical parts of the world he didn'
t know existed.
A man she definitely, totally, completely was still in love with, down to every tiny molecule of her two-creatured being.
“Hi, Ana.” His low, honey-rich voice poured over her as he drew to a stop about a foot away. His brows were drawn in a frown, which bizarrely made him even sexier. “Guess you can't run from me forever.”
Oh, crap. “Guess not,” she said, actually trembling. The words squeaked out in a whisper. She swallowed hard. “Look, I'm really s—”
He cut her off, his voice colder than the snowy mountains north of town.
“Don't you dare apologize to me, Daciana Lyall. I just want to know why you walked away from us and what we had. You owe me at least that much.”
* * *
Mason studied Ana as casually as he could, which was insanely difficult because her enticing smell, the one like fresh rain and spring flowers and something wild and free that was indefinably her, surrounded his being with all its damn come-hitherness. He ignored the fact his pulse had rocketed into triple-time the moment he noticed her enter the store. Pulling off her white knit cap and shaking out her dark chocolate locks, snowflakes melting into her ruby-red coat as the heat of the store hit her, she'd looked like a combination of sweet angel and naughty devil with her guileless green eyes and that lavishly plump, endlessly fascinating mouth of hers.
God, the things that mouth had done to him. The ways in which he'd taken that mouth, over and over, during the most electrified year of his life. Even now, a shiver bolted down him as his body remembered the purely erotic hours of learning her body, every luscious curve and exquisite line, the mouthwatering taste of her flesh. He immediately hardened despite his best attempts to control himself.
Well, hell. He never could completely control himself around Ana. She'd not only claimed his body, she'd driven that claim deep into his heart and soul. When she suddenly called him out of the blue four months ago and said it was over, they were finished, she needed to move on, he'd been so damn shattered he'd hardly been able to function during the black weeks immediately afterward.
Women never had that effect on him. But he'd never before met a woman like Ana, with her bewitching elegance, her unexpected playfulness, her sometimes alarming view of herself as somehow lacking, her instant hold on his heart that blindsided him even as it opened up his world. After she dumped him like yesterday's trash, he'd brooded darkly. Then he let his stupid pride pretend he'd just been whipped good. That he'd handed his balls right over to her without thinking, and it was time to man up and get a grip.
He figured he'd recover soon enough by screwing every willing girl he could find. But not a single one of them was Ana, something he realized right about the time he bought them a drink and attempted small talk. Every single effort at being a heartless stud fizzled out into him going home by himself to spend some quality alone time in the shower, imagining Ana's lips on him as he tried to take the damn edge off. When he finally understood he wasn't over her, he worked hard to win her back. But she wouldn't budge, erecting a wall of silence he couldn't penetrate despite his most creative efforts.
As a result, he'd just endured the longest dry run of his life ever since he discovered girls back in high school. He'd also spent many long nights playing deadly serious poker with the guys, and many long days mercilessly tackling all the construction projects on his new house he'd put on hold after he met Ana, which was why he was in this store right now.
He'd even briefly wondered if he'd have to move to Myanmar to become a monk, since apparently all his mojo had vanished after one crazy sexy woman had ripped out his heart, thrown it to the ground, stomped it good, then walked away without even a backward glance.
Damn it, why did she have to be so beautiful? So sweet? So tempting? So—Ana?
Her full lips trembled slightly as he stood there, wordlessly waiting for her answer. Now that he finally had her cornered, so to speak, he wasn't about to budge until she told him the truth. Despite having an ace in his pocket she didn't know about, he couldn't let this sudden gift vanish without at least trying.
Even if the truth was that she'd fallen for some other guy, secretly gotten married, and just couldn't think of a decent way to tell him. He flicked an involuntary glance down at her hands. The long, pretty fingers were bare except for her favorite ring, the one with a tiny silver crescent moon on it, that she wore on her right hand. A small symbol of her love of wolves, which was one of the many things that had attracted him to her in the first place. Mason had dreamed of wolves since he was a kid. He always thought of them as being sort of guardian creatures for him, though it sure as hell wasn't something he ever mentioned to anyone else. No one, that is, except Ana. She'd been surprised at first—really surprised—but eventually told him she thought wolves were her totem animal, too.
Seriously, he would never again find a woman who understood him the way Ana Lyall did. She was his soul mate, and he damn well knew it. He let loose a pent-up breath when he saw no sign of a wedding band. Calm down, fool, he silently growled at himself. She was heartless, but not that heartless. He hoped.
“Um,” she said. Her eyes had finally darted away from his when he'd dropped his gaze to check for signs of matrimony. Now, she almost desperately looked at every corner of the crowded little store, as if seeking an escape hatch.
Mason crossed his arms over his chest and steeled his resolve to be firm. “I've got all night, Ana. Why the hell did you just disappear like that?”
Her eyes snapped back to his. Wide, uncertain, their light green darkening as she gnawed on her sweet lower lip. God, she needed to stop doing that. Despite it all, he would still give his left nut to be able to crush her into his chest, kiss those gorgeous lips until she was practically breathless, then drag her back to his lair and have his wicked way with her.
Not that he was a barbarian or anything. But damn, she'd brought out this crazy, possessive, insatiable side of him the entire time they were together. For a whole year, even though they woke up together nearly every morning, he'd desired her with renewed lust every day.
Lust that eventually grew into idiotic love. What a stupid, pointless emotion. All it had done was gash his heart and made it bleed. Painfully.
She took a tiny step back from him as he loomed, her expression moving from clouded to nervous. Instantly, he dropped his arms and relaxed.
“Ana—ah, dammit.” He shoved a hand through his hair, rubbing at his temples as he did. “You never did like this side of me, did you? Is that why you left?” He couldn't quite keep the slightly accusatory tone from his voice. Ana always had brought out the animal in him, although she'd also always met him stroke for stroke, as wild with him as he was with her. Maybe he'd been a little too wild, though. A little too out of control, and it had finally scared her off.
Finally, she spoke, her sultry temptress's voice whispering over him and rousing more tiny chills from his tingling nerve endings. “No, Mason. Of course not. I liked all your sides. All sides of you, I mean.” A rosy flush worked its way up her face as she stumbled over her words.
Hmm. So she still had the hots for him. He could practically smell the arousal on her. Wait, that was just his lust-fogged brain and wishful thinking. He narrowed his eyes a bit, tilting his head as he still looked at her. Maybe he did have a sliver of a chance with her still.
She shifted from foot to foot, looking decidedly trapped. God, her legs were long in those dark jeans tucked into knee-high boots. All he wanted to do was peel them off of her, rip her silky panties away, and feast on her, reminding her why the two of them together was such a satisfying idea.
First, though, he wanted to see her grovel a bit. Beg for his forgiveness. Maybe even tear up a little in the corners of her pretty eyes.
No, he didn't. Hell, no. He hated seeing Ana cry. It tore at his heart. He just wanted to kiss the damn woman. After he found out why she'd broken it off without any solid reason he could figure.
Ana took a deep breath, which of course m
ade her breasts strain against the front of her coat. His cock jumped again and he thanked god he had his own coat draped over his arm. Something about her turned him into a hormonal teenage boy. It was ridiculous. And exciting as hell.
“Mason,” she finally said in that sultry voice that came naturally to her. She paused, as if searching for the right words, before she continued. “I handled that really badly, didn't I?”
“Yes. You did.” He managed to keep his tone level this time. “Care to finally explain why?”
She looked right at him, her expression troubled. He wanted nothing more than to caress her smooth, soft skin, to nibble at her lips. Her skin was so clear it sometimes appeared almost translucent. He'd spent thousand of minutes worshipping it, paying it homage with every centimeter of his own flesh.
Fine. So he was whipped. As far as he was concerned, Ana could keep him whipped every day for the rest of his life. Having her stand inches away from him brought it all back, every sensation and emotion. The reality of her existence roared back through him, demanding he stake his own claim.
He didn't care what she had to say. He was never letting her go again. If he did, it would probably kill him.
2
Ana's heart pounded so loudly she thought Mason should be able to hear it. She barely remembered they were in a store, surrounded by people, out on the town during one of her favorite nights of the year.
All she could think about was the sexy, amazing man in front of her, and how much she wanted to leap into his arms, tell him it was all a mistake, and let him carry her off to be ravished. Preferably multiple times in the same night. He'd always been particularly good at that.
