by Anna Lowe
Three-quarters of an hour later, Santa declared the gift-giving finished, and Axel came striding back.
“Good job, man.” Cody smiled as Axel stepped past the head table.
Beth gave an inner cheer. If only she had a camera to capture that.
Axel grinned ear to ear and made a beeline for her, ignoring every eyelash-batting woman in the room. He plonked down in his chair, pulled off his red hat, and pulled her straight into his lap.
“Hey!” She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Present for you,” he whispered, placing a small box on the table. Didn’t give her a second to wonder what it might be, though, before drawing a finger down her cheek. “Now I get my present.”
When their lips met, time stood still. Well, the minutes must have been ticking away, but she barely noticed. Everything receded into the background: the voices, the crackling fireplace, the sound of wineglasses clinking in a toast. A toast to Tina and Rick, the pack’s most recently mated pair, and maybe even a toast to Axel, the hero of the hellhound fight. Beth wasn’t sure; she was too lost in Axel’s marathon kiss to care. Axel certainly didn’t care about toasts or accolades or attention. He only cared about her. He kissed and sighed and hugged her to his chest, not noticing a thing outside their little world.
She was vaguely aware of the dining hall gradually emptying, the fire slowly dying down. Kids filing out, reluctantly heading to bed. Vaguely aware of the few remaining couples around them, cooing quietly to each other, equally lost in love.
Vaguely aware of the massive oak door opening and a gust of cold air slicing into the room.
She nestled closer to Axel, fighting the chill.
The sound of heavy, booted feet carried across the hall. A late arrival? It hardly seemed to matter.
But the booted feet clomped to a stop right behind her, and the hall went quiet in an entirely different way.
“Axel,” the deepest, grittiest voice she’d ever heard growled. She could feel a pair of piercing eyes frowning into her back.
Axel pulled back, and The Best Kiss Ever evaporated into thin air. His body was rock hard under hers.
“Father,” Axel croaked.
Chapter Fourteen
Axel went stiff all over as his world came crashing down. Was his father really here?
“Lothar?” Ty rumbled from a few steps away.
Crap, it wasn’t just him, imagining things. His father really was there.
“Axel,” his father grumbled a second time.
Centuries-old eyes traveled up and down his body. Lips curled downward at the sight of the tinsel draped around Axel’s neck. He frowned at the red hat, lying across Axel’s knee. Frowned deeper at the sight of Beth, snuggled in his lap.
Axel opened his mouth, but what could he possibly say? Other than, Go away or Please, one more week or God, no, no, no. Because he already knew what his father wanted.
His uncle Gunther peered over his father’s shoulder, looking slightly less bristly but just as grim.
Beth’s hand trembled over his, and despite his father’s pointed glare, Axel refused to let go. He stood, sliding Beth to her feet, and pushed his body forward to shelter hers.
“Father.” The only word he managed to grunt out, and it sounded like a curse.
The grizzly old shifter looked him slowly up and down. You’d think Axel was wearing a whole Santa costume the way the old man’s eyes gushed disapproval.
“You are healed.” A statement, not a question.
Axel gave a curt nod. What else could he do?
His father nodded back. “We must go.” His eyes blazed. “Now.”
A command, not a suggestion.
The Christmas lights that had been blinking so warmly a moment before suddenly took on the urgency of alarms. Don’t go! Don’t go!
“But…” Axel’s eyes fell to the box on the table beside him. His gift to Beth. She hadn’t had time to open it yet. They hadn’t had time to help with cleaning up, or to enjoy Christmas morning.
The last weeks sped by him in super-fast motion, then screeched to a stop at the present. Crashed into a brick wall there, because the future he’d been imagining had just been erased.
Christ, they hadn’t had time for so many things.
His eyes met Beth’s and found them shiny with fear. A different kind of fear than he’d seen there before: not the fear that he might die from his wounds, or that the hellhound had returned. Just the fear that he’d leave. As if that were as bad as death or a demon.
His gut sank, because his soul was crying like it was the end of the world. No! No!
“Now,” his father growled.
Axel sucked in a raspy lungful of air that hurt, sliding down his throat, and he tightened his grip around Beth’s hand.
“The pack is in trouble,” his uncle said, more tired than menacing.
His home pack was always in trouble. That was a given with a territory that spread across four states.
“The Kruesmann pack is moving north,” his uncle added. At least he felt the need for an explanation, even if Axel’s father didn’t. “Getting closer.”
Closer to where? Axel wanted to shout. Closer to one of the vaguely defined borders of an impossibly vast territory no single pack could possibly defend?
“Closer to Broken Hill,” his uncle murmured.
Axel jerked back. Broken Hill was the heart of his pack’s territory, where his mother and sisters lived. The closest thing he had to a home, even though he hadn’t been there in years.
His father gave an angry nod, as if it were Axel’s fault a competing javelina pack was muscling in on the heart of their territory.
If only javelinas were more like wolves. If only they were satisfied with territories they could actually defend instead of trying to build shaky empires.
His father’s eyes blazed with commands. Move. Obey. Now.
The tips of Axel’s canines pressed into his lips as his inner boar pawed at the ground. Will not let him bully us. Will not let him take us away from our mate.
But he didn’t have a choice. Not if Broken Hill was in danger.
But what about Beth?
His father tossed her the briefest of glances and immediately dismissed her. We have more important things to do.
Axel dragged in another harsh breath then straightened. Used every sliver of the half-inch he had over his father and let his eyes blaze right back. “I need a minute.” Hell, he needed a year. A lifetime. But a minute would have to do.
A sound like thunder building over the hills came from his father’s chest, but Axel didn’t back down.
“I need a minute,” he said. And damn it, he was taking it.
He spun around, ignoring his father’s gasp of surprise, because no one turned their back to the alpha of Waldermann pack. No one!
Axel ignored the burning sensation on his back and marched Beth away, keeping her firmly sheltered in front of his bulk. Wondering if he’d just pushed his father a step too far.
Thank God for Ty, speaking up behind him. “Lothar, a word, please.”
Axel exhaled slowly on hearing his father turn away. He’d won his minute. A huge victory in its own way. If only it were more…
He guided Beth into an alcove by the south door and took both her hands in his. Shaking a little, because now he knew what love was. Love was wanting someone so much, it hurt.
I have to go. He tried forming the words, but they just wouldn’t come.
“Axel,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes, recording the sound of her voice. Telling himself he didn’t hate his father, only fate.
“Hey,” she murmured, stroking his beard.
He leaned into her touch and wished a thousand wishes. Wished he could cram a lifetime into the seconds he had left.
“I don’t suppose we can get him to stay through Christmas?” She made a feeble attempt at a joke.
He wished. God, did he wish. But his father got restless after an hour. On
e whole day and the old man might just go out of his mind.
“I have to go,” he croaked, resting his forehead against hers.
She nodded, ever so slightly, making both of them rock. “I know.”
“I need to go,” he said, trying to convince himself.
“I know,” she whispered.
His gut folded even more tightly upon itself, because that was the truth.
“I love you,” she said.
His heart beat a little faster. She’d whispered a dozen endearments to him over the past few days but hadn’t ever gone that far.
She loves me.
He clicked his teeth together, because as good as it felt to hear that, it hurt, too.
“I love you,” he said. Even though it came out growly and scratchy and harsh, he meant it. God, did he mean it. “I love you.”
She rubbed her hands up and down his arms, and he had to fight the overwhelming urge to grab her and flee. Fast and far to a place duty could never chase them to.
But if he didn’t do his duty, what kind of man was he?
“I swear I’ll come back.” His voice was raspy now, but hell, he had nothing to hide from her. Except the trembling fear that his animal side might take over once he shifted. What if the beast never released him again? What if he never escaped?
She kissed him, and he locked the sensation into his mind. That was the key. Her kiss, her touch, the memory of her. That would drag him back. If it didn’t, he’d be a liar. And to lie to Beth…
He said it again, forcing his inner boar to promise, too. “I swear I’ll come back. I swear I will.”
Beth blinked away the shine around her eyes and nodded so firmly, it scared him. She believed in him. She was counting on him.
“I know you will,” she whispered. “I’ll be waiting.”
That woke something new in his boar. A hot, raging sensation that burned his throat. What if he stayed away too long? What if another boar—or wolf—took advantage of his absence to muscle its way into her heart?
“I love you,” she whispered even more fiercely than before.
God, why hadn’t he given her the mating bite while he’d had the chance?
“I love you,” he growled, letting his voice carry. Let the words settle among the beams of the dining hall. Let them mark his mate until he got back.
She cupped his face with both hands, took a deep breath, and looked him straight in the eye. Giving him hope. Strength. Determination.
See you soon, my love. He could hear her voice in his head.
He should be soaring away on those two words—my love—instead of sinking in a quagmire.
With one final stretch of a kiss that neither wanted to let go, they parted.
Using every scrap of willpower he could summon, Axel hauled his heart out from where it had sunk to his boots. He raised his chin, nodded a final promise, and slowly turned away, holding her outstretched hand until the last minute, when her fingers finally slipped out of his.
Take care, my love, she called. See you soon.
See you soon, he echoed, hoping to hell it was true.
Chapter Fifteen
Beth stood at the ranch gate, watching the javelinas thunder away into the night.
Watching her javelina thunder away into the night.
They pounded over a hill and disappeared to the east, raising a cloud of dust that hung in the moonlight before it, too, was gone.
Gone. She hugged herself. Her mate was gone.
“Come inside, Beth,” Tina said gently, running a hand over her shoulder.
Beth pulled away. No one could console her now.
“Maybe now would be a good time to open this,” Tina said, pressing something into her hands.
Beth nearly pushed it away until she realized what it was—the gift box Axel had given her. She’d left it on the table, still wrapped, thinking—silly girl—she’d have all the time in the world to open it with him later. To delight in whatever it was and look into his eyes and tell him thank you and I love you and—
She bit back a sob before it worked its way any higher in her throat. She grabbed the gift and stumbled down the dim path, away from the dining hall and the others. Unafraid of the dark because there was nothing to fear. Not demons, not attackers. The only thing that frightened her was the thought that Axel might never come back.
What if he forgot her?
What if duty stole him away forever?
What if he got killed?
She shook from the chill that worked its way bone-deep—and not because she’d left her jacket in the dining hall. She ran up the flagstone stairs of the library, fumbled the key into the door, and let herself in. Moonlight stabbed through the wall of glass on the south side, bathing the space in shadow and light.
She stumbled past the circulation desk and collapsed into a chair, covering her eyes. Letting the tears come, because what was the point in hiding them away now? She didn’t have to put on a brave face for Axel’s sake.
I need to go, he’d said in a shaky voice.
I know.
How she’d managed to grit out those two words, she wasn’t sure.
I swear I’ll come back…
She clung to the words as a few tears became a river. She hit stop and rewind and play to hear them all over again. She clung to them while her body shook and heaved.
Gone. Axel was gone.
I swear I’ll come back…
His heart was in those words, along with his soul. His eyes had said as much.
She sucked in a huge, gasping breath, and with the dry night air came the scent of a sooty hearth and hard-working muscle and musky male that could only be Axel. So strong that, for a moment, her heart leaped in hope that he might have come back.
She ran an unsteady hand over a leather armrest and leaned back against a reassuring bulk. It wasn’t Axel, but it was the next best thing: the giant wingback chair she already thought of as his.
Her wolf whimpered.
She’d never had a man kiss her like she was the breath of life. Never had a man touch her in wonder like she was the fountain of youth or the key to eternal happiness.
She’d never felt so alone as just then.
She fisted her hand, holding a new sob back, and something registered against her palm.
The gift. His gift.
The silky ribbon tickled her fingertips, and she tugged at the bow without thinking.
Wait, shouldn’t she open it on Christmas morning? Or save it for when he came back?
Her gut rolled uncomfortably in warning. What if he never came back?
She held the box up on her palm, raising it to a shaft of moonlight. The box was small and delicate, yet heavy for its size.
Open it! her wolf urged. Open it, already!
She fought the temptation for all of ten seconds before yanking the top off. A cloud of tissue paper popped up, eager to be freed.
She folded it back like a holy shroud, because Axel had touched it, too. He’d arranged it and tied the ribbon and…
She dragged herself away from those thoughts because they were too close to what she feared most. She had to have hope, not give in to despair.
Her fingers settled on a curved edge, then another. Slowly, she drew the gift out and held it up to the light. She peeled the red paper back, one corner at a time, until finally, the gift was exposed.
She sucked in a sharp breath of recognition.
A rose. A desert rose.
She looked closer, running her finger over a finely hammered copper petal. Copper? Copper brushed with bronze, from the look of it.
A copper rose.
Her heart thumped the way it did when Axel came close. The rose was that beautiful. So perfect, it could have been plucked straight from a bush.
One thin petal lay over another, each cupping the next. No two exactly the same, yet they were perfectly matched. She couldn’t imagine Axel’s huge hands creating anything that small, that fragile, with the heavy tools of his tra
de. How many hours had he toiled over the tiny, lifelike parts?
The bronze brushed over the edges shone, and the copper nestled deeper had a reddish tint, just like his beard.
She cupped it in both hands, blinking at her gift.
There was a message in that rose. A message in every soft curve, every perfect joint.
Love. She could feel it warming her fingers.
Beauty.
Strength.
She could practically hear Axel whispering in her ear. It’s just like you.
The rose sat silently in her palm, telegraphing all that.
She drew her legs up, hugged her knees, and closed her eyes. Imagined it was Axel wrapped around her instead of that leather chair. She held the rose in one hand and stroked the petals with one careful thumb.
I have to go.
Her thumb traced the fine, curving edge.
I love you.
She sniffed at the rose and found a trace of Axel there.
I swear I’ll come back.
Her fingers tightened around the most precious object she’d ever held.
“I know,” she whispered. Her words dissipated into the darkness, into doubt. So she said it again, trying to convince herself. “I know you will.”
Chapter Sixteen
A week stretched into two, and every day was a marathon Beth had no desire to run. She spent the chilly mornings staring at the ceiling, fingering the pillow beside hers. She took long, lonely walks, mourning at the sound of one, not two hammers ringing in the smithy. Even old George looked morose, as if he missed Axel, too.
Every meal was tasteless, every breath dull. Nights were endless in her too-quiet bungalow. Even the books she read to console herself—the very books she’d read to Axel, once upon a time—became nothing more than lifeless blotches of ink on empty white.
She bit her lip and forced herself to pull down the last Christmas decorations in the library. Bit by bit, she wound up the silver tinsel hung in the corner by Axel’s chair. One loop, two loops, three loops…
