by E Hall
I sniff the air. Smells like snow. Spending it together, no matter the weather, will make it perfect.
I get a toothy wolf smile, likely at the rhyme and sentiment.
I lift my snout and let loose a brief howl because right now, with Kenna, is perfect. My intruding mind tells me it won’t be for long or forever. Something I do not want to think about.
Kenna paws the ground a couple of times and takes off, teasing me into a game of chase, which will inevitably result in us play-wrestling.
When we get back to the lodge, we shift and pull on our clothing.
Kenna turns in a slow circle, gazing up, down, and all around the massive house. “The pack has been busy. It’s like stepping into a Bavarian Christmas village, a snow globe, and one of those miniature ceramic holiday scenes all at once.”
“We have a tradition to decorate on Christmas Eve and leave it until New Year’s.
The lodge glows with white Christmas lights, strung along the exterior. Evergreen swag lines the fences, wreaths hang in every window, and giant red ribbons complete the trimmings.
A pair of giant, wooden nutcrackers flank the main entry with its massive doors.
When we get inside, more ribbons and bows and evergreens line the walls and doorways. Lights and candles softly illuminate every surface.
“You guys go all out,” Kenna says. “My mom and I only had a miniature artificial tree that one of our previous neighbors was tossing out when they moved.”
“Welcome to Christmas mania. Each year it seems like there are more decorations,” I say.
“That’s because there are,” Camilla says, popping up beside us.
In front of a wall of glass windows that frame the mountains in the distance stands a giant Christmas tree. A model train set rings the bottom—still being put together by two male subordinate wolves.
Pepper and Clove are here too, cuddling on the sofa.
“We decorate it together. Each member of the pack contributes their own ornament. And one member gets to put the star on—it rotates every year.
Inga and Claude appear with trays filled with mugs of warm cider. Something deliciously savory wafts from the kitchen. Christmas carols sound festively in the background.
“Corbin, this is the best Christmas ever,” Kenna says.
“It’s not even Christmas yet. Wait’ll we exchange gifts tomorrow.”
Her hand slaps her mouth. “I almost forgot my secret Santa.”
“We still have time to go out and do last minute shopping.”
Camilla says, “But first, let’s decorate the tree.”
The pack takes turns dressing the massive Douglas fir.
“I didn’t realize I needed to get a decoration,” Kenna says.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you covered.” I pass her a gift bag.
She pulls out the decorative paper to reveal a glass ornament in the shape of a doughnut with colorful sprinkles. She squeals. “Ha! This is awesome. You know me so well.” Then she stops up short, looking carefully at the little hole in the center.
I take a deep breath. This is my moment. “Kenna, you came along and filled a hole inside of me that I didn’t realize I had. Will you marry me?” This time, I don’t get down on my knee, but draw her hands to mine, kissing each of her knuckles.
The room is silent except for a low, Christmas carol crooning on the stereo.
Kenna doesn’t even try to hide her awe. Her mouth hangs open. Her eyes are as big as saucer sleds—I’m hopeful for more snow soon because on Christmas day we have an epic sledding party.
She lights up and bounces on her toes. “You know I’ll marry you.”
I wipe my forehead with mock relief. “Good because your mother has had half the pack working day and night fixing up her house.”
Kenna giggles. “Actually, that’s my house. Our house.”
She pulls the ring out from where I’d tied it with a string in the center of the doughnut.
“Although I’m Scottish, my mother was Irish. They have a tradition called the Claddagh ring. Do you see these symbols?” I ask, holding up the silver band. “The heart is for love, the crown signifies loyalty, and the hands are for friendship—these are three components to a lasting marriage. Three things I know we have and will continue to grow.”
Her lips part slightly as she studies the band. There is also a diamond in the center of the heart because I know she likes sparkly things.
“Corbin.” She’s breathless. “It’s perfect. Worth the wait. Better than the original ring. It’s us. It’s our past, present, and future. I love it.”
We wrap our arms around each other and embrace. I want to move it a little beyond this and kiss her, but the pack cheers and claps. We’ll be alone soon enough.
Claude holds up the golden star. “As the newest member of the pack, you get to do the honors.” He opens a ladder for Kenna to climb.
She places the star atop the tree like a crown. I chill wafts through the room despite the fire and general coziness of the entire pack gathered together.
A strange thought flits through my mind as if carried on the breeze. I envision Kenna being crowned as queen...queen of the fae.
Chapter 15
Kenna
That evening, Corbin and I pop out to Polaris. I forgot to get Casey, one of the subordinates, her Secret Santa gift. I feel like a jerk, but I was so obsessed with making sure Corbin’s gift was perfect, I forgot about everything else.
We drive Alister the Gray Ghost into town as the sky darkens with clouds. “I don’t want to be too long because Olive and Octavius promised a delicious meal tonight.”
Corbin rubs his hands together. “Christmas Eve tradition calls for a hearty chowder, crusty bread, and loads of cookie decorating.”
“The pack are my people,” I cheer.
“You are my person,” Corbin says, kissing me on the cheek.
A shot of warmth glows through me.
After I park, we walk over to what I thought was a pottery shop. I’d only been there once before. It turns out they also sell all kinds of items made by local artisans. There’s handmade jewelry, woodworking, knit items, and other crafts like an in-person Etsy storefront.
I browse, looking for just the right item for Casey. I don’t know her that well other than that she loves coffee—still half-asleep, we bonded one morning while the machine brewed.
A woman sits at a table hand-lettering mugs. “Last minute Christmas shopping?” she asks.
“I forgot one person on my list. Are you doing custom messages?” I ask.
She nods. “Anything up to fifty characters. After that, it’s a bit of a squeeze.”
I quickly count off the letters in my head. I tell her the message, “Always be yourself unless you can be a wolf. Then be a wolf.” I quickly add, “It’s an inside joke.”
Corbin comes over, wearing a smirk, and holding a bag behind his back.
“What do you have?”
“Another last-minute item. The countdown to Christmas is over, but that doesn’t mean you won’t have an extra gift in your stocking. You’ve been a good girl.” He winks.
The frequency in which I hear the cry of the fae suggests otherwise. I feel like I’m betraying my wolf, especially when I want to sing along. Nevertheless, I hold back. I won’t let the words pass my lips.
If I ignore it, it’ll go away, right?
After I thank the woman profusely, we head out to the Jeep. Snowflakes fall.
“Drive carefully. The pavement might be slick.”
I maneuver onto the road. Corbin turns on the Christmas carols and sings along. I’m afraid if I open my mouth, a fae ballad will escape.
The night is dark and the headlights eat up the increasingly heavy snow. I slow down a bit especially around the curves, being extra careful.
“I guess you get your white Christmas, which is perfect because of the sledding party,” Corbin says.
He’s telling me all about the fun planned for the n
ext day when a tall figure blinks into focus in the middle of the road up ahead. Melchior’s long hair billows behind him. Even from under his beard, the leer on his lips is unmistakable.
I glance at my mate, hoping I’m not imagining things but he’s tuning the radio dial away from static.
When I turn back to the road, Melchior remains, taunting me, teasing me. He lifts his hands as though he’s about to blast us with magic.
“Corbin,” I shout as I swerve to avoid the former fae king.
We slide to a stop on the shoulder. I throw open the door to the Jeep and march into the street, firing fae magic from my fingers.
“Kenna, what are you doing?” Corbin calls, racing after me.
He bundles me in his arms, stopping me.
I’m frantic, trying to catch my breath. “I saw Melchior. He was in the road.” My eyes water from the snow and whipping wind.
Corbin grips my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length. “Kenna, I believe you. But I didn’t see. And if he was there, why? Where did he go?”
I shake my head rapidly. “I don’t know.”
He sucks in his cheeks. The Jeep idles on the side of the road. Angled at us, the headlights beam through the sheet of white flakes. I feel caught in a storm but not snow or wind. I don’t know how it’ll end, but only will when Melchior is no more.
Then I have a chilling thought. That must be exactly how he feels about me. “He’ll only be content when he has me, when I’m the queen. When he gets the revenge and power he seeks.” My gaze flashes to Corbin’s.
Concern creases his features, but his Alpha is on alert. I’m thankful he believes me. But I can’t do anything to put him or the pack in danger. They were led to believe their base natures were violent, horrible. Yes, they’re wolf shifters and warriors and by many considered to be dangerous and fierce in equal measure. But I know the truth. They’re good—they’re family. Just look at the Christmas festivities, the way they celebrate each other, holidays, and every day. They’re proud and humble. Generous and self-sustaining. They’re my family.
I can’t be the one to lead Melchior back into their lives. He wants me. Well, he can’t have me, but I need to do something to stop him once and for all.
“Kenna, come on,” Corbin’s voice floats to me over the howling wind. “You’re shivering. Let’s get back in the Jeep and go home.”
He guides me to the passenger side, secures the safety belt, and closes the door. Corbin stands in front of the Jeep for a long moment.
He said he believes me, but the doubt on his face when he turns to get behind the wheel shakes me. I know what I saw. Melchior was in the middle of the road. The greed and determination in his gaze was a sight I won’t soon forget.
The next morning, I wake to a wolf shifter in physical form seated in his chair at the end of my bed, snow frosting the scene out the window, and the scent of sugar and cinnamon.
“Merry Christmas,” Corbin calls around a yawn.
Despite what happened on our drive back from Polaris, I’ve always loved Christmas morning and cannot hide my glee. I bound out of bed, jump into his lap, and sling my arms around his neck.
I flash my Claddagh ring, letting the faint sunlight catch its sparkle. “I’m looking forward to being the future Mrs. Stone and when we wake up together. Because you, my wolf, need to get more sleep.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. In the meantime, we have breakfast waiting, Secret Santa gifts to exchange, and sledding to do.”
“Good thing I have a hearty appetite and it snowed. As for the presents, I know you have a Secret Santa, but I also got you a little something extra.” I grab a bag from my closet, and return to my spot on Corbin’s lap, inhaling his woodsy-wolfy-minty scent and resting my head on his shoulder.
“What’s this?” He hefts the bag in his hand and then squeezes it as though trying to guess the contents. “Glad to know it’s not a bag of coal.”
“Open the card first,” I say.
Out loud, he reads, “‘I love you with all of my senses.’” I doodled a little wolf in the corner. “Ha. I get it. Okay, let’s see.” He pulls out the first item.
I labeled it Taste.
“Beef jerky. You know me well. Okay, next one is labeled Scent. A cherry air freshener for my Jeep.” He laughs then nuzzles me. “I hope you’re in it with me most of the time but when you’re not, this will be a good reminder. What do we have here? Sight.” Like an accordion, he holds a piece of ribbon from each end. Several photographs of us hang from it.
“Pepper took these with her phone when we weren’t paying attention. They’re not the best quality, but I thought they might look nice in our cottage.”
He gives me a strong side hug. “I look forward to moving you in.”
“Next is Touch,” I say.
He pulls out a knit, winter cap that says, Alpha.
“I, um, made it myself. Inga taught me how to knit. Well, sort of. I still have some work to do.”
“You made it, which means it’s perfect.” He kisses my forehead.
I laugh softly.
“This means last is Sound.” He pulls out two tickets to see his favorite band in Intherness in the spring. “Wow. I thought these were sold out.”
“I have an in...” I hint. “Well, Baker did. He, um, hacked into the ticket sales website and created two more tickets.”
Corbin shakes his head. “I didn’t ask. You didn’t tell me.” He feigns innocence.
“It’s a harmless little alteration that means I’ll finally get to hear in person that music you blast in the Jeep and decide whether I like it.”
“Well, I love you.” He clobbers me with kisses.
When we part, I say, “Wait. There’s one more.”
He digs into the back and reads a label. “Magic.” He looks into the bag but there’s nothing there. “Is magic a sense?”
“It wasn’t something I possessed before, and I do now, so it’s something,” I say with laughter. I lean into him as my eyes flitter between his eyes and lips. “And it means I met you. Us. We’re magic.”
Neither one of us hesitates as we move together in a kiss that feels as big as the surrounding mountains and as pure as the snow.
I channel everything into the kiss because more than anything I want to erase the memory of the night before when I saw Melchior on the street. I want to step into the bliss that Corbin occupies, free of the fetters of the former fae king. But I fear he has a hold on me. I hear it in the song, scent it in the air, and taste it on my tongue.
No. I’m kissing Corbin. Not the king. I won’t. Not ever.
My mate’s arms are firm around me, holding me fast. Yet, it’s also like I’m floating away from reality. As always, our kiss is like a first kiss. I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced something so expansive. His hands explore the hills and valleys of my arms, back, waist, and chest.
My heart rattles the cage of my ribs. Wanting more. Wanting him.
Our breathing ratchets up.
His wolf lets out a low growl.
The kiss deepens, and I forget my thoughts and worries. There is only us right now. No past. No future. Just the wide open present.
The planes of Corbin’s cheeks are unusually smooth—often he has a light layer of stubble. I like it both ways, but press my fingers to his skin, memorizing the feel, smell, and taste of him.
When we part, the kiss leaves me gasping and grasping for a hold on anything solid, certain. There’s him. There’s me. Soon we’ll be united in love. In marriage. I meet his eyes. They shine and sparkle in the growing sunlight like the snow outside the window.
Corbin twists the Claddagh ring around my finger. Despite the passion of the kiss, I can’t help but sense something. Or maybe it’s just my underlying stress.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” I ask. “It’s a human construct. We already sealed as wolves.”
He tucks his head back as though shocked.
“I mean, are you having cold feet?” I ba
ll up my hands in my lap.
He grips them in his large, rough palms. “I want to do it for you. If it means something to you, it means the world to me.”
“I just want to make sure,” I blurt.
His eyes pinch with worry. “Yes, our wolves are united as you said, but while we’re talking about this, what about your fae?” His words seem to tumble and tremble.
The questions highlight that restless feeling inside. My fae is volatile. Ready to explode in a flurry of magic. The closer I am to Corbin, the closer I am to my wolf nature. Right? That’s where I want to be. It’s like the fae brings out the worst in me.
“My hope is the fae will fade. I’m certain I want to marry you. I love you. It’s symbolic since we’re already fated mates, but a wedding will make it more real to me.” I kiss him on the lips again, afraid to say more.
I feel Corbin’s smile return.
Apart from missing the cookie decorating extravaganza the night before, I try to put everything else from our trip to Polaris out of my mind and focus on Corbin and Christmas.
We spend the rest of the day in the pack’s presence—exchanging gifts and then sledding.
Claude was my Secret Santa, and he got me a key chain with a gray ghost for the Jeep.
We eat a traditional meal with turkey, ham, and a roast. Plus all the sides—mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, creamy string beans, salads, roasted veggies, Brussels sprouts with bacon, and five different kinds of bread.
Thankfully, we spend most of the afternoon sledding before diving in for dessert. Of course, there are cookies, but there’s also pie, cake, and several sweets that I’m not familiar with. Our pack hails from all over the world, so I’m introduced to new desserts as well.
It’s all so delightfully perfect. It’s almost as if everything that led up to now, the uncertainty, the fear, and the violence never happened.
The only problem is, I cannot ignore the fact that change is inevitable. Things are going well now, which means it’s only a matter of time before everything falls apart.
Chapter 16
