by Michele Hauf
Daisy poured Beck a cup of hot chocolate that she had made before going to help her neighbor with her stove. The brew smelled so good, she took a sip before handing Beck his cup.
“Had to check,” she said. “Make sure it’s not too hot for you.”
“Thank you, mother.”
“Hey, I’m a chocolate freak, so you know. And I don’t share my chocolate with just anyone.”
“Then I’m honored. To sharing.” He tilted his cup against hers, and they drank the toast.
“What?” Beck stared at the cup, mouth open in awe. “This is...” He took another sip, eyes closed and a satisfied murmur rising. “This is the most amazing stuff I’ve ever tasted.”
Daisy bristled with pride. “Why thank you. It’s a recipe from my aunt Kambriel.”
“Did she steal it from the gods?”
Daisy chuckled. “Actually, one of her friends works at Angelina in Paris. It’s a ritzy place known for its decadent hot chocolate. The recipe is a lot of work, but in the winter I make it at least once a month and freeze it for emergencies. It’s necessary to me, like breathing.”
“I love it. I love you. I love your aunt. Do you think she’d marry me?”
“She’s getting married to a handsome vampire this summer.”
“That’s too bad for me. What about you?”
“A marriage proposal on our first date?”
Beck sipped again, his eyes closing in bliss. “Yes, please?”
“You stick with love for the hot chocolate for now. I’ll reconsider your offer at a later date. Besides, love is so easy.”
“You think so? I suppose I did confess love kind of quickly. But seriously, are there witches in your family? I think you’ve put some magic in this hot chocolate.”
“No witchcraft. No even a smidge of faery magic. Just tender loving care. Love it all you like. You can even love me if you want to. Because the real challenge is in liking a person.”
“How so?”
Daisy pulled up her knees to her chest and held the hot cup beneath her face. The scent was heady. “When you like someone,” she explained, “you enjoy spending time with them. You can hold conversations and never get bored of what the other is saying. Or you can just be next to one another in silence and not feel the need to talk. You tolerate their bad habits, and admire their good. Trust me, like is hard work.”
“I agree. To like!” Beck tilted his cup against Daisy’s. “So your aunt is marrying a vampire in Paris, eh? Fancy. And a werewolf pairing up with a vamp? Cool.”
“Kam’s a vampire. My grandpa Creed is vampire, so, well, you can figure things out.”
“I can. My mom is a vampire. Though she was mortal until a nasty bitch of a vampire transformed her after she met my father.”
“She’s Belladonna, right? How is your mother doing?”
Beck took another sip, pausing for a while. She studied him from the side. The barely there stubble on his chin wanted a shave because his good clean looks demanded it. But she guessed he kept the stubble for that hint of danger, and it was probably warmer in the winter. He had the all-American tousled blond-and-brown hair, and that killer smile. And if she looked into his blue eyes long enough, she’d surely fall in like faster than a falling star.
She’d forgotten what she’d asked him, so when he finally answered she had to think back.
“Fine,” he said.
“Fine?” His mother. “Oh, right. That’s good. And you?”
“Me? Don’t I look fine?”
“You look more than fine.” The words came out in a dreamier tone than she’d intended.
“Is that so?” Beck wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. “You look a little cold. Drink up.”
She did, and the hot chocolate filled her gut with a warm explosion that loosened her nerves and coaxed her to settle against him a little snugger. They both wore cold-protective snow wear, so she’d never feel his body heat. But she could smell him now. A little bit of chocolate and a lot of sensual wildness. His aftershave wasn’t too strong. She liked it. Woodsy and warm. Like an old leather book found in the hollowed-out trunk of a tree on a hot summer evening.
Mmm, she’d like to crack open his cover and delve deep into his pages. She bet his story was filled with adventure, action and some steamy sex scenes. She could hope.
“So where’s this brother I need to worry about?” he asked.
With any luck, Kelyn would not find them tonight. Not that Daisy expected her brother to actually look for her if he was on a date. If they happened to see one another, then he’d probably wave across the crowd.
“Oh, I’m sure he’s got an eye on us even as we speak,” she said, then regretted that tease. “Kelyn’s cool. If he sees us, just wave.”
“Right. Why do I feel as if I have a target on my head, and there are four—five, including your dad—wolves who want to shoot holes through it?”
“I have no idea. You’re the one getting all worked up over nothing. Haven’t you dated a wolf from a pack before?”
“Nope. You did get the whole lone wolf part about me, right?”
“If you think it’s such a bad decision, why are we here right now?”
“Because always making the right decision is boring. Sometimes the wrong one is a hell of a lot more fun. And not getting to learn more about you would be worse than losing my head to one of the Saint-Pierre boys,” he said. “Besides, you’ve already forgotten. I love you.”
“Right. A victim of my witch’s brew. I can dig it. Love me all you want. Just don’t expect me to fall head over heels in like with you too quickly. We don’t even know one another.”
“That is going to change. Let’s talk.”
“So what do you want to know about me?”
He toggled the kitty ears on her cap, then tugged the string hanging over her jacket. “What’s a cute wolf like you doing without a boyfriend? I can’t believe I didn’t have to fight off a ton of wolves at the picnic to get near you.”
Daisy shrugged. “I’m...” She sighed. The truth was she probably pushed men away simply by being who she was. And yet there were more days than most that she had no idea who she was. Wolf or faery? “I’m not so much shy as kind of content with my aloneness. If that makes any sense.”
“Not really.”
“I’m not like most women.”
“You mean most women don’t get excited over greasy bike parts and know how to fix the heating element in an old stove? Who would have guessed?”
“You tease, but next time your stove goes on the fritz...”
“I’ll know who to call. So you like doing things with your hands. Nothing wrong with that.”
It pleased her that he hadn’t said boy things. She’d grown up with the tomboy label. Competing against her brothers for her father’s attention had been as natural as breathing. And that had required a hard skin and masculine interests. The tomboy persona hadn’t bothered her until her twenties when she’d noticed the women in their pretty dresses walking with their handsome lovers. Femininity was so easy for them. Walking in high heels? Daisy would rather jump in mud. (Which was always a blast.)
And really, dealing with the werewolf in her was always an issue when dating mortal men. But she loved being a wolf, so she wasn’t about to complain. Though, her wolf was “one of the boys.”
“My father taught me a lot about blacksmithing and working with metals,” Daisy felt the need to explain. “And if you grow up with brothers, well then.”
Beck leaned into her a little more, just enough so she could relax against him without worrying about toppling over. “I think it would be awesome to have so many siblings.”
“I can’t imagine what it would be like to be an only child. I suppose your parents spoiled you?”
“I’m not sure doing chores every day, chopping wood and helping my dad tend our land could actually be labeled spoiled. Though I confess I am a momma’s boy. She taught me how to cook. I can make a
mean wild rice Tater Tot hot dish.”
“Ohmygoddess, seriously?” Daisy twisted to fall against Beck’s arm and curled her mitten-clad hand about his forearm. “I love hot dishes.”
“Like I love your hot chocolate?”
She nodded. “I could marry it. So long as it doesn’t have cream of mushroom soup in it.”
“I’m not much for mushrooms.”
“I knew there was a reason you appealed to me.”
“I promise to protect you from any and all mushrooms we should ever encounter. And so you know? I would do anything for this hot chocolate.” He held up the empty cup. “Tell me what you want and it’s yours, oh pink-haired faery wolf.”
Oh, she could think of a few things she’d like him to do for her—all of them involving privacy and snuggling before a warm fireplace. Daisy couldn’t resist the lone wolf’s allure any longer. “How about a kiss?”
Beck opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment the crowd erupted in an excited whoop. The lights on the ice castle blinked out. Immediately following, a multicolored firework dazzled in the sky, twinkling, lingering and spilling over the iced lake. More sparklers followed at a rapid pace, accompanied by the crowd’s oohs and aahs.
Daisy snuggled against Beck’s chest to watch. “I’ve come here every winter with my parents, and then with friends.” She pointed to a particular small firework that spun like a Chinese whirligig. “But this time it feels more...magical.”
“I like the sound of that.” He slid down parallel to her so their faces were inches apart. “Now about that kiss.”
Daisy tilted up her chin. Their breaths fogged in a mingled cloud. She closed her eyes, anticipation scurrying heat through her system. Beck’s mouth touched hers. The cold night made the first touch icy but fun. She giggled, but didn’t stop the kiss. He slid his hand behind her head as he deepened their connection. Warmth radiated through her system, and she forgot that it was colder than a deep freeze.
His stubble brushed her chin. When she breathed through her nose, the woodsy aura that surrounded him filled her senses and transferred her to that hot summer night she’d been thinking about.
Nothing had ever felt as good as Beck’s mouth against hers. Not even winning a race against Kelyn, who was amazingly swift. This kiss was all hers. She hadn’t needed to compete for it. It was a prize she’d not known she needed until now.
Above them the fireworks glittered up the sky. Beneath them the compacted snow crunched as their pack boots slid over the surface. Beside them, the thermos of hot chocolate rolled across the snowy ground and hit the booted toe of a man who had just arrived hilltop.
“Daisy Blu?”
She broke away from the delicious heat of Beck’s mouth, wishing she hadn’t heard her name and that she could kiss him again and again, but the voice was too familiar. And it wasn’t a brother.
“Ah, shit,” Beck said under his breath.
Daisy twisted to sit and looked up at the dark-haired man towering over them. “Hey, Dad.”
Chapter 5
Daisy got a hand up from Beck. She noticed Beck did not stand tall before her father, but instead bowed his head, showing submission, as was expected when a lesser wolf stood before a pack alpha.
Most men might stand up to Malakai, to grandstand in an attempt to show him he couldn’t be pushed around. Those men generally walked away limping or bleeding.
Much as her anger for her father tightened her muscles, Daisy appreciated that Beck showed her father respect.
“Hello, Mister Saint-Pierre,” Beck said.
“What the hell are you doing here with my daughter?” Kai asked.
“Daddy, please.”
“Quiet, Daisy. I’m talking to Beckett.” The taller wolf was dressed in a leather jacket, his long curly dark hair pulled back behind his head to reveal his square jaw held in a tense frown. “Are you two on a date?”
“Uh...” Beck looked to her.
“Of course we are,” she broke in. “And will you stop treating me like I’m a teenager? I’m a grown woman. I can see whomever—”
Kai’s hand landed on Daisy’s shoulder, a staying move that he’d employed as she’d grown up. A means to show her he was not to be trifled with, and must always be respected. It was his gentle way of showing authority.
And she quieted.
“You won’t be seeing this lone wolf,” Kai said, his gaze fixed to Beck’s, who had trouble holding the alpha’s stare. “Isn’t that right, Beckett?”
“Uh, sir.” Beck’s shoulders rolled back. He tucked his thumbs in his pants pockets and looked Kai straight in the eye. “I don’t want to cause any problems, but I think Daisy can choose whomever she wishes to date.”
Daisy smiled inwardly. Go, Beck!
“Are you trying to tell me how to run my family, boy? My pack? Because it sure sounds like it.”
“No, sir. I— It’s our first time out together.”
“And you thought it was okay to kiss my daughter?”
“Daddy,” Daisy said under her breath. “Do not do this.”
The fireworks had ceased. The night sky grew dark with few stars. The waxing moon hid beyond the tree line. While the humans tromped back to their cars, the trio of werewolves held position at the top of the hill. Daisy scented her father’s anger, and yet, there was a tangible softness to it. Similar to how he reacted when she’d made a mistake when she was little. Like maybe he was puffing up to show aggression in display but didn’t mean it as much as he showed it.
But she hadn’t made a mistake this time. At least, she didn’t want it to be a mistake. She could understand that her father wouldn’t want her hanging around an unaligned wolf, but to approach her when they’d been kissing had been too much. She wanted to tuck tail and crawl off into the woods.
“I’ll take Daisy home,” Beck said.
“No, you won’t. I’ll drive her home,” Kai asserted.
“I brought her here. I won’t abandon her,” Beck said, his shoulders tilting back a little farther.
“I said I’d take her home, boy.”
“I want Beck to drive me, Daddy.”
Malakai Saint-Pierre twisted his neck to look down at Daisy. The menace in his gaze could never be softened, and it did not fail to strike at her heart. She swallowed back her bravery and bowed her head. When would she be able to break free of her father’s influence? Was it even possible?
“Get in the car, Daisy,” her father said.
Beck bent to pick up the thermos and handed it to her. “I’m sorry about this.”
“No, I am,” she offered. “This isn’t how things should have gone tonight.” Inhaling a deep breath, she swept her gaze over her father’s stare then wandered down the hill.
She hated leaving Beck at the hands of her father. And what had he done? He’d only wanted to get to know her better. Rare was it a guy actually asked her on a date to do something, as opposed to wanting to go straight to her house to make out on the couch. She craved the wooing process. And that kiss. It could have been amazing had her father not shown up.
Glancing up the hill, Daisy saw that her father was already on his way down. Whew. He hadn’t given Beck a chewing-out. Her father was not a cruel man, but he was feared for the very reason that his physicality was remarkable. It was the rare wolf in this area who could stand against him, alpha or otherwise.
Daisy got into the old pickup truck and pulled the door shut with the duct-taped handle. As her father got in, she tucked her legs up to her chest and twisted to face the window. The engine rattled, and the truck took off.
“He’s arrogant,” Kai said after they’d driven a few miles.
“He’s kind.”
“I’ve invited him to join our pack too many times.”
Daisy swung her head around and met her father’s brief glance. “How many is too many? Two? And the one time he was grieving his lost father.”
“Two too many. He’s refused both times. Says he doesn’t need a pack. That’s
arrogance, if you ask me. Stay the hell away from him, Daisy Blu.”
Beck had every right to refuse her father. Daisy could imagine that if he had grown up with a father who had been a lone wolf, then the idea of a pack must be odd to him. Overwhelming. Perhaps even threatening.
“You’re not going to stay away from him, are you?” Kai asked softly.
Daisy bit her lower lip to fight the tears that threatened to spill down her cheek. She wanted to do the right thing in her father’s eyes. But her right and his right weren’t in alignment now. And she was a grown woman. Too old to still have her father tailing after her, approving or denying her choice in men.
“Daisy?”
“I don’t know,” she finally said.
Kai’s sigh rippled through her skin and twanged at her heart.
* * *
The afternoon had been designated for research. Scanning the internet, Daisy tried various search words, starting with “ghost wolf,” which brought up nothing. The data on werewolves provided for interesting reading, some laughs and a lot of head shaking. Eventually she typed in Fenrir, the name of a Norse god who was the son of Loki.
“The ghost wolf obviously isn’t Fenrir,” she said as she scanned the information. But there were some similarities. A monstrous wolf often depicted in paintings as white or ghostlike, he could not be restrained, save by a delicate ribbon named Gleipnir.
Though it was fascinating, it wasn’t getting Daisy any closer to results. The article needed facts, or in this case, some kind of legend to compare to the ghost wolf, at the very least. The creature was larger than life. She needed to communicate that on the page.
“I need a picture,” she said. “That would be the ultimate scoop.”
When her breed shifted to their werewolf shape, they could not be photographed. Well, they could be, but none had been that she knew of. They were fiercely protective of their secret. And should a hunter manage to snap a photograph? A quick slap of claws destroyed the camera.
