I snorted a laugh. “Zippo, of course. That chick fights dirty.”
As the room erupted into shifter versus witch teasing, I hurried to get Ali ready for the day. Calla joined me in the nursery.
“You okay today?”
I leaned over to kiss her pretty lips, my hands too busy holding Ali still on the changing table to touch my mate the way I wanted to. “I’m good. Sad for what we all lost, but finally seeing a way through that.”
Her smile grew, her eyes lighting up, so fucking beautiful I could hardly breathe.
“I love you, Calla,” I whispered, unable to hold back the words. Not wanting to deny that truth.
“I love you, too, Bastian.”
We shared one more kiss before turning our attention to our daughter so we could return to the living room. It seemed a Christmas party had broken out, if the sounds of the doorbell and new people entering the house were any indication.
With Aliyana decked out in her pretty red dress, the three of us walked into the living room together, Calla holding my hand, Ali tugging on my beard. Shadow and Scarlett had joined my brother in the living room along with Rebel, Charlotte, Julian, and even wolf-bound Angelita. All talking loudly, happy, celebrating a day we wolf shifters hadn’t in years. As presents were pulled from bags and babies were passed from family member to family member, I stood in the corner. Watching. Amazed at how much my life had changed over the past year.
“What’re you thinking about over here by yourself?” Calla asked, joining me once Ali and Sorrel were settled on a blanket in the middle of the chaos.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her warm body to my chest. “How lucky we truly are. How blessed we are, and how grateful I am to Amber for giving me this time.”
“She would have made an amazing mate for you.”
I kissed her head, expecting to feel the burn of guilt clawing its way through me. Instead, I felt my true mate’s love, her arms around me, her quiet strength holding me up. I felt blessed.
“Maybe. But I’m so glad I get to spend forever with you instead. You and Ali.”
“Me and Ali…and….” She smiled up at me so beautifully, such a lovely, hopeful expression.
“And? And what? What have you got up your sleeve?”
The noise of the room disappeared, family ignored as she grinned at me. As she said two words that stole my breath.
“I’m pregnant.”
My whole world shrank to the woman before me, the magical, amazing woman the Fates chose to bless me with. The second chance I’d never known I needed. Third chance. My final chance at love and happiness. At a true family.
I carefully slid my arms around her, too afraid to hurt her or the baby to be careless. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, a single tear on her cheek. Crying through her happiness.
I took a deep breath, releasing it in a shaky whoosh. “Is it safe? I mean, Ali’s not even a year old yet.”
“It’s okay. Not what I would have planned, but this little one refused to be deterred.”
I chuckled. “Sounds like her mama.”
“No, this one’s all you.” Calla rose onto the balls of her feet to press her lips firmly against mine, kissing me sweetly before pulling back to whisper. “You are the best father a woman could want for her children. Ali is so blessed you accepted her as yours.”
“She is mine, just as much as this little one will be.” I placed my forehead against hers and rocked her from side to side. Carefully. Gently. “Another baby?”
She nodded, a breathy laugh escaping her. “We’re going to have to move.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“You, finally admitting what you did. You’ve been wanting to move to run away from your memories of Amber. I couldn’t let you do that. I needed you to face them.”
“You are an amazing woman, Calla. And this is the best Christmas present I could have ever wished for.” I grinned and turned to the expectant faces watching us. Phoenix handed me Ali, who clung to my shoulders and nuzzled into my neck. My baby girl. My sweet, amazing Omega shifter princess. I hadn’t thought my heart could handle any more love, but with Calla’s words, it grew. It made room for another.
Clinging to my girls, the happiest I’d ever been in my life, I hollered, “We’re having another baby!”
The room erupted in sound, cheers and congratulations flying at us from all directions. I stood in the center of the storm, my eyes burning with tears, the two—or rather, three—most important people in my life in my arms. The room filled with friends and family, with happiness and love.
With the joy and peace of Christmas.
ABOUT
Feral Breed MC
The wolf shifters of the Feral Breed are the protectors of the secret—the judges, jury, and executioners of the North American shifter community. These books are their stories as they ride, fight, and find their mates. CLAIMING THEIR CHRISTMAS follows CLAIMING THEIR DESIRE in timeline and gives readers a quick peek into the life of Beast and Calla from CLAIMING HIS BEAUTY.
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Ellis Leigh
A storyteller from the time she could talk, Ellis grew up among family legends of hauntings, psychics, and love spanning decades. Those stories didn't always have the happiest of endings, so they inspired her to write about real life, real love, and the difficulties therein. From farmers to werewolves, store clerks to witches--if there's love to be found, she'll write about it. Ellis lives in the Chicago area with her husband, daughters, and a giant dog who hogs the bed.
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Desert Yule
The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch
Anna Lowe
The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch have earned a hard-won break after another eventful year in the dark and dangerous shifter world. In this sweet, sentimental, and sexy Christmas story, you’ll get to see new characters take center stage and relationships evolve. Has the big, bad alpha’s mate finally taught him to delegate? Has the wounded warrior learned to let go of the past? And the leading she-wolf of the clan — how is she getting along in her new life with her once-forbidden mate? While some couples are busy steamings things up with a whole new meaning of “nap time,” others are rapt in promising visions of the future, and even the family grinch doesn’t leave the “merry” out of Christmas this time around. Yes, there’s more than meets the eye under the light of a winter moon...
ONE
Carly tapped her fingers on the armrest and squinted against the first piercing strands of dawn, framed by the oval of the plane window. She heaved an inner sigh. If she were in the cockpit, the flight would take half the time. Hell, she could practically drive faster from Sacramento to Phoenix.
She grinned a little, imagining herself at the controls. Not only would that make the flight faster, it would be more interesting, too. She’d throw in a couple of barrel rolls, maybe see how quickly she could pull this 737 out of a nose dive…
But flying like a granny…definitely not her style. The trip from California would have been a hell of a lot more fun on her bike. Her latest bike, that is, because her last Harley had suffered an unfortunate accident. Not that it had been her fault or anything…
She scratched the scar on her forearm. Nope, not her fault at all.
A grid pattern of streetlights stretched out below, broken only by dark splotches where untamed hills slumbered amidst the waking city. A stream of red and white lights rushed along the freeways like water in a creek bed—not the torrent it would be at peak times, but a steady flow nevertheless.
“Ladies and gentlemen, happy holidays and welcome to Phoenix,” the pilot announced. Judging by the voice, it was the cute one who’d chatted her up before takeoff. If her dad weren’t meeting her at the airport, she just might have taken the guy up on his offer of lunch in Phoenix’s fanciest restaurant after the flight. Maybe taken him up o
n the unspoken offer in his eyes, too.
On the other hand, that might have set off another battle of testosterone-driven wills, because the copilot had made a move on her, too, along with the big football-player type sitting over in the exit row. And that kind of strife was the last thing she needed on the way to testosterone central, Twin Moon Ranch.
Carly smiled in spite of herself. She’d always lived in California with her mom, but Arizona felt more like home. Even brief visits to her father and siblings on Twin Moon Ranch had been enough to cement the place firmly in her heart.
“Merry Christmas!” She waved to the flight crew on her way out.
The pilot’s eyes telegraphed a last-chance message she pretended not notice. The flight attendant, on the other hand, shot daggers Carly’s way. The usual, in other words. Which wasn’t really fair, because it wasn’t like she tried turning every man’s head everywhere she went. It just happened.
“Merry Christmas,” the pilot murmured, never letting go of her with his eyes.
She tossed her hair over her shoulder, tugged down her cowboy hat, and strode down the ramp. One jaunty Christmas tune blended into another on the overhead speakers, and Carly hummed along. Might as well brace herself for the sappy holiday cheer she was in for over the next couple of days. Christmas hadn’t always been a big deal on the ranch, but it was getting to be that way. Her siblings were all happily mated, breeding like rabbits, and loving every minute of it. Even her sister Tina—the last bastion of independent womanhood on Twin Moon Ranch, damn it—had succumbed to the myth called destiny and found herself a mate.
Well, Carly knew better. She was not falling into that trap. No, sir. Her life was hers and hers alone.
Her wolf whined a little inside her head. Always alone?
She walked faster, looking for the baggage carousel. Of course not. There was that sweet logger she’d partied with a month ago, and that hot biker she’d met at the bar…
At the end of every one-night stand, we’re still alone, her wolf complained.
Variety, baby. Variety. A little fun and we move on. Safer that way. Imagine getting stuck with one man forever.
Her wolf went a little dreamy-eyed, imagining just that.
She shoved the pathetic beast back into her subconscious. That was the thing with being a shifter—she always had to be on guard against the beast within. The instinct to howl at the moon was a good one, but when it came to the desire for a destined mate… Well, Carly liked to curtail that to plain old desire, and that was easy enough to satisfy without a mate.
When has a man ever truly satisfied us? her wolf whispered, protesting to the end.
Yeah, well. She’d take quantity over quality if it meant guarding her freedom. She slammed a mental door closed on the subject and turned an imaginary key.
She tipped back her hat, finger-combed her hair, and winked at the guys checking her out from across the way. Might as well do her part in spreading a little holiday cheer.
“Yes!” She gave a little whoop of triumph when her bag came down the luggage carousel first. Her lucky streak was holding out.
She grabbed it and headed for the exit, bracing herself with a long, steadying breath. Something she wouldn’t have to do if it were her sister picking her up, or Cody, or even Ty. But her dad was the one picking her up today, which called for not one, not two, but three deep yoga breaths.
Yep, there he was, tapping his foot, glaring at his watch.
“Hi, Dad.” She smiled, knowing there’d be none in return.
“Carly.” He grunted and reached for her bag.
But Christmas was Christmas, damn it, so she pulled him into a hug. Sniffed the dry aftershave he’d been using for as long as she could remember. Tucked her chin over his shoulder and—
Wait, was she getting taller or was her dad getting shorter?
He extracted himself from the hug and turned down the sidewalk. No, How was your trip? No, Tell me what’s new.
Situation normal, she sighed. All fucked up.
Well, her dad might not have learned about social graces, but she hadn’t given up on trying to teach him some.
“How was your trip from Colorado?” she asked as he steered his pickup onto the highway. The pink light of morning lent a soft glow to the saguaro cacti blurring past over a backdrop of pulsing neon lights from fast-food chains and cheap motels.
Phoenix. A city painted onto the desert, tamed yet untamed.
Her dad shrugged.
“How are things at North Ridge?” She tried.
A grunt.
She prodded a little more. “You making good progress, getting that pack back on its feet?”
He sighed.
Yeah, well. She hadn’t been expecting a full report, but a word or two about the pack her dad had left home to lead would have been nice.
“No sign of a promising alpha to take over there yet?”
A snort was his only reply.
“How’re things on Twin Moon Ranch, then?”
He pursed his lips, which was Dad-code for good or even great. The ranch was doing damn well under her siblings’ leadership, and that had to make him proud—even if all he revealed was a slightly softened glare.
Carly sighed and looked at her watch. It was going to be a long drive, especially with her dad barely breaking sixty-five.
“Are the kids driving you crazy yet?” she asked, keeping up her side of the conversation.
Her brothers Ty and Cody had two each, and it was only a matter of time before Tina started popping out more rug rats to add to the Hawthorne dynasty.
Carly waited for her father to scowl, or mutter, or frown.
She waited half a tick more, then studied his face. Wait, was the right corner of his mouth starting to curl up?
Must have been the slanting morning light playing tricks on her. Because when she looked again, his expression was firmly back to a scowl, and they drove in silence for another quarter of an hour. The temperature dropped as the highway climbed steadily up a plateau. Up and up and up, looking at a pale blue sky dotted with winter clouds that covered all but the bottom of the purple mountains in the distance. It was a different Arizona up here than down in the central valley. Cooler. Wilder. Meaner, at times. A rancher had to be tough to scratch a living in the highlands. Which was fitting, because the Hawthornes were tough. Rock-hard tough.
“How’s your mother?” her dad asked so quietly, she almost missed it.
Wow. Maybe he really was softening with age.
She flapped a hand at the dusty hills and swallowed away the lump in her throat. What to say? Batty? Weak? As submissive and indecisive as ever a wolf there was?
“The usual,” she murmured, turning her face so he couldn’t see.
Once upon a time—or so she’d heard—her mother had been a lot like her: carefree, bold, independent. But three years with the alpha of Twin Moon pack, decades before, had broken her mom. Left her shattered and worn. Old before her time.
“Brad takes real good care of her,” Carly added.
Okay, that was a dig at her old man, but he needed to know what he’d reduced the woman to. A woman he’d dumped before their second child—Carly—was even born. Luckily, her mom had had the option of heading back to her home pack in California, where the alpha made sure she got by. She’d even found herself a mate. A pathetically submissive beta of a wolf, but a kind enough stepfather to Carly. In fact, Brad was the one who’d insisted she kept up ties to her old man and siblings with regular visits over the years.
In the end, Brad always said, family is all you got. Your brothers and sister are important, Carly.
Even if they drive me nuts? she’d retort.
But Brad was right. Family was important, just like Twin Moon Ranch was important. Those were her roots. Her blood. Her second home.
The pickup’s tires rumbled as her father exited the highway on the unmarked dirt road heading to the ranch, and her heart lifted just a little bit. She sniffed eagerly for th
e scent of home: desert lavender blended with brittlebush, mesquite, and a dash of cliffrose.
The upper edge of Crow Mesa was dusted with snow, and her wolf couldn’t wait to get out for a run. There was so much space here, so much sky. A cool edge to the dry air, like nowhere else. A wolf could run for hours, unfettered by the fear of discovery. The highlands of central Arizona made a perfect home for a pack of wolves—at least, those hardy enough to tough it out here. No wonder her father had chosen this place to establish a new pack in, a century before.
The tires hit a choppy high note, rolling over the cattle grid that marked the turnoff to the neighboring ranch.
“Seymour Ranch,” she murmured. Her sister Tina’s ranch. Wow. She still couldn’t quite get over the twist of fate that had brought her sister a mate and a ranch.
Carly peeked at her father. His lips were pursed, his expression sour as ever. What did he think of his new son-in-law?
His lips twitched. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look unhappy either. Well, not unhappier than usual.
“Did you meet Rick yet?” she ventured.
He grunted and nodded so vehemently, she could feel the air shift. No father gave his daughter up easily, but for her dad to accept a human as his eldest’s mate… That had taken some swallowing, for sure. A small miracle, actually, that her father hadn’t killed the guy, but miracle pretty much hit the nail on the head when it came to Tina and Rick getting their happily-ever-after after so many years.
Her dad’s knuckles went white as he gripped the wheel harder. On the other hand, he didn’t bare his teeth in the direction of Seymour Ranch, so she’d take that as a good sign.
The pickup rumbled on, and her eyes tracked the landscape to the south. Somewhere not too far over the hill was the Seymour homestead, where Tina and Rick were probably still in bed, whispering sweet nothings or shagging like bunnies.
Carly sighed. She had a strict rule against fraternizing with any of the males on her father’s ranch, which meant she sure wasn’t going to get any in the coming week. Too bad, because Twin Moon had more than its fair share of hot cowboys who knew how to show a girl a good time.
Sugar, Spice, and Shifters: A Touch of Holiday Magic Page 4
