by Cecilia Lane
With another quick glance over her shoulder, she moved behind a thick tree trunk and Zane stalked after her with quiet steps.
He rounded the tree and found her focused on a… squirrel. Not even a particularly good squirrel, either. Middling in weight, nothing outrageous in the size of its cheeks, not even a very puffy tail.
Zane folded his arms. “Surely no one wants pictures of squirrels.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” she said with a huff as she crouched down and focused on the fluffy little critter. “The internet is full of mysterious things like poses of squirrels looking like they made a superhero landing.”
To his amusement, she transferred her camera to one hand and planted the other firmly in the snow as an example. Zane shook his head with a snort as she pushed to her feet. “Couldn’t you just find some shifters and have them pose for you?”
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s cheating. Besides, this is fun and good practice.”
Practice, he believed. He could even be convinced of the fun, though likely for far different reasons than hers.
He glanced to the sky. They were wasting time. There were only so many hours before nightfall, and he wanted to cover as much ground as possible. “You done here?” he asked gruffly.
Izzy’s face fell and she brushed past him without a word.
Zane frowned. Dammit. She smelled hurt. Hurt he caused, which made his damn dragon bathe him with fire.
This was why he kept to himself. He hunted alone. He stayed alone. No risk of hurt feelings when there wasn’t any talking to be done. No risk of bringing anyone down like his father.
He hated the sting of her scent. Hated it, and wanted to fix it.
Which was entirely new. He’d stuck close to people as a way to get near his target before. Those cases always felt more like spy shit than hunting, but he did what was necessary to get the job done and never looked back.
Izzy was different. She grabbed at his attention and piqued his curiosity. The little wrinkle of her scowl slashed him to ribbons even without his dragon wanting to burn him to a crisp.
Zane tongued his teeth as he followed after her. Right. He’d stepped in it, he had to be the one to extend the olive branch of renewed conversation. “How’d you get into this, anyway?”
She stayed quiet as she marched ahead, and he cursed himself for pushing too hard. She had no clue why he wanted to keep moving. And what could he tell her? A murderous polar bear shifter might be hunting her Christmas traditions? Happy fuckin’ holidays.
Maybe he needed to cut his losses and hunt alone. He’d run the risk of giving himself away, but that had to be better than pissing her off. He could focus, too. No worrying about needing to fix shit with small talk.
He couldn’t force himself to take a single step away.
He’d have thought she had fae blood if it wasn’t for the lack of anything magical in her scent. The woman at the inn, he’d known her supernatural alignment immediately.
Izzy? Izzy pulled at his dragon, and his inner creature dragged him along, too. All with only fur in her scent. Fur, and blackberries and heather.
“It was after we moved to the city,” she said finally. He felt her eyes on him again, but she slashed them away before he caught her look. “I was eleven, maybe twelve, so already at an awkward age with the added bonus of needing to now keep my other half hidden. This was home, and I missed it like crazy.”
He took the invitation and stepped up to her side. “I can’t imagine living anywhere outside of an enclave. That must have been hard to leave all this behind.”
She hummed a note of agreement. “My mom bought me my first camera to give me something to do, but it was after those first pictures were developed that I really fell in love. I tacked every single one to the walls of my room. Being surrounded by nature again—even just in photos—helped me settle.”
Her words lightened and sped up as she spoke, as if she shook off a dark mood. The smile she flashed in his direction ran a soothing hand down his inner beast, and Zane exhaled in relief. She’d let him back in.
“From there, it was just the right combination of classes, luck, and determination. I still feel extremely grateful every time I get hired for a project or sell some of my catalogue.” She brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and eyed him carefully. “What about you? What’s your line of work?”
He balanced on the edge of an answer, the same as when she’d asked who he searched for yesterday. His wariness was the same as before. If the small town was anything like his clan, the truth would spread like wildfire, and he didn’t want Erik catching a whiff of his presence until it was too late.
But she’d asked, and he wanted to answer.
Zane scrubbed a hand through his hair. “At the moment, whatever my clan leader tells me,” he grouched. No lie there. Even his irritation was real. “I had to deliver a package to someone here in town.”
“So, you’re like a modern-day Santa Claus.” She paused and cocked her head. “Or would you be Rudolph? Since you’re the one who can fly?”
Zane didn’t miss a beat before slinging his own teasing in her direction. “You do know I’m a dragon, right? Not a dog. Not some flying reindeer. I just want to make sure you aren’t concussed and forgetting facts and details.”
“Eh, tomayto, tomahto.”
He snorted a laugh and felt a loosening in his chest and shoulders. Strange, strange woman had his dragon’s full attention.
The path opened up on a large clearing. A rocky cliff took up one whole side, with a waterfall gushing over the top and landing in the wide pool in front of them. A steep path carved up one side of the cliff and led to a narrow bridge crossing in front of the water. Water that, he noted, had frozen into large columns and long, thick icicles.
“See? What did I tell you? It’s a pretty spot.” The smug tone of her voice had nothing on the lifted chin and barely contained smile she threw over her shoulder as she brushed past.
Zane shook his head with a suppressed smile and started toward the edge of the water. Button pusher. He usually hated that in others, but she just made him want to push right back.
Which was wrong. Trading jabs was fine to fill the time, but he had to focus.
Zane balanced on one foot and tested the ice. Almost immediately, the toe of his boot cracked through. At least here Erik would have left a mark if he tried to cross the ice.
“Where are you from, anyway?” She reached into her bag and drew out her camera again.
She stalked slowly through the clearing, pausing here and there to look up into the branches for whatever prey she wanted to capture on film.
“Firebend.”
“Never been to that one.” She dropped her voice and crouched down to get closer to a squirrel. “Maybe I’ll crash your Christmas next year.”
“That’ll be hard to do seeing as you need wings to reach us. But I’ll wave if I see you hopping around on the ground.”
She glanced over her shoulder, green eyes bright with amusement. “After all I’ve done for you, too.”
Her harsh sigh startled her latest squirrel subject, and the little critter scampered up a tree, scolding them with flicks of its tail and angry chattering. Anyone else, and they’d be on their way without an acknowledgment of the creature. Not Izzy. She turned a bright smile on her latest subject before starting on her way again.
Movement caught his eyes and he tracked it up the cliff face.
“Izzy,” Zane whispered. He barely dared turn his head, but a wiggle of his fingers lured her closer.
He landed his hands on her shoulders and walked her into place. He dropped an arm over her shoulder and stooped behind her, using his finger as a guide. Above their heads, above the trees, a small band of fluffy mountain goats picked their way along the rocky ledges.
“You see them?” Warmth spread under his palms and traveled through his body. He should move. Back away. Put space between them so something other than blackberries and heather
filled his nose.
She nodded, and raised her camera in time to see the band jump to a higher outcropping and disappear over the top of the ridge.
Izzy dropped her camera and turned to him slowly. So close, he could see thin threads of gold in her mossy green eyes. Her scent swelled around him, drowning out everything that wasn’t her. Blackberries and heather at its base, with bubbly touches that matched the light flush spreading over her cheeks.
“I guess we’re even now,” he said quietly, eyes dropping to her lips.
A rustle of branches as something small and furry jumped from one to another jerked at his attention and broke whatever magic held them in place.
Embarrassment rolled through her scent and she darted a look to the sky, the trees, the ground, and everywhere but him. “We should probably keep going and see what else we can find,” she said, too fast and too loud.
A sending flashed through his head, and Zane nearly stumbled to a stop. One image, just one single still frame—Izzy, with his mark on her skin—slammed awareness into him like a bolt of lightning.
He couldn’t have a mate. He’d watched his father try time and time again, but the attempts always ended in heartbreak. Tragedy, once or twice, but the end result was the same. Drunk, alone, wings clipped.
He refused to share the same fate. He’d rather ground himself than drag some poor soul down with him.
Except his dragon wanted Izzy.
Hell, he wanted her, too. Listening to her heartbeat all night without crawling into the huge bed with her had been a lesson in virtue. He’d already walked in on her once. Waking up with his cock pressed against her ass would probably leave him with a slit throat.
The truly despicable thing, he wanted to see her unsheathe those claws and leave some scratches on his back and chest.
Zane stared at her retreating back for a long moment, wondering what the hell had just happened, with one hand rubbing over the sudden ache in his heart.
Chapter 7
Izzy watched Zane from the corner of her eye as they waited for a group of cubs to rush past and dive into a snowbank on the other side of the street. They’d apparently dug out a good portion of it, as another cub stuck his head out of the top a little ways away.
“Over here!” he shouted. As one, the group whipped around and disappeared into their snow fort.
Izzy smiled fondly at the little group, then slashed a secretive look to her dragon companion. The man’s typical flat look had softened as he watched the cubs, and her cougar let off a little purr. So maybe the grumpy dragon had a gooey center, after all.
She darted a small smile to her feet before he caught her looking.
Their day had passed much like the previous one, though with a less awkward start to the morning. They’d actually waited for each other to get ready before heading downstairs for breakfast together. While they ate, she opened up a map and pointed out popular Bearden trails to give him the choice for their hike.
She liked that he didn’t shy away from anything hard. They’d stayed out all morning and well into the afternoon, and not a single complaint exited his mouth. Well, not a real complaint, anyway. Teasing and testing ones designed to prod at her and get under her skin, those dropped from his lips as frequently as hers.
He was good at spotting things before she even realized they were there. Disappointingly he kept his distance when he called for her attention. His hands stayed firmly locked to his sides, not once repeating the dang toe-curling close call from the night before.
It was a relief, really.
Said no one with a working libido.
Her stomach rumbled and she flashed him a quick smile. “Treats? Or are you saving your appetite for dinner?”
Zane jerked his attention away from the crowd. The move was almost like catching a kid with their hand in the candy jar, and she shot her own look to catch a glimpse of whatever beauty he’d been ogling. Her cougar stretched her claws, ready to carve Little Miss Thing up.
Izzy shoved her cat to the back of her head. One, if anyone needed the carving, it’d be Zane and his wandering eyes, not the unsuspecting subject. And two, not the reaction to have for a man who hadn’t even kissed her!
She should have held strong and kept their relationship to roommates only.
Zane’s lips curled into a smile. “Treats sound just fine.”
“Faith!” Izzy exclaimed as soon as they made their way to the front of the line. “I didn’t know you were expecting!”
The woman working under Mug Shot Coffee Shop’s tent pulled her apron tight against her belly and grinned, then shot a fake glare to her mate under the next tent. “One and done, Tommy said. One and done, until Mia got a play kitchen and started shouting ‘Next!’ and serving Daddy fake food. Now someone wants a whole pack.”
“What can I say?” Tommy answered while doling out change and a to-go box of diner food. “You made one beautiful child. I can be selfish and want more.” He threw her a wolfish smile. “Besides, it’s free labor when they get old enough.”
“They’ll work for me, where they’ll earn a decent wage,” Faith fired back.
“Then come to me when they want to learn how to really cook.”
“Tommy and Faith,” Izzy explained to Zane over Faith’s growl, “own the diner and coffee shop across the street from one another. The competition has been fierce for years.”
“And yet, I’m not the one revamping my menu every few months,” Tommy said with a wink.
“They’re called seasonal offerings!” Faith grouched, smelling amused and utterly smitten. Her focus found Zane, then turned right back to Izzy. In a low voice, she asked, “Is this the one Muriel was telling me about?”
Panic flared in her middle and she shot a quick look to Zane. Zane, who watched the conversation with far too much interest. Understandable, really, when learning about being the subject of town gossip, but not particularly welcome when said gossip probably included all sorts of details about who should have been staying with her instead. “This? This is Zane, making the same poor choices of coming to town for Christmas as me.”
Yeah, neither looked convinced, but at least Zane nodded a greeting before sweeping a pinched, broody look her way.
Izzy went on, “Being holiday refugees, we will take two of your largest cocoas and the entire tray of cookies as a gift.”
Faith snorted. “Two cocoas and four cookies, coming right up. Do you want Santa, stockings, or reindeer shapes?”
Drinks and snacks in hand, Izzy led them back toward the inn.
“What was that about?” Zane asked from her side. “Did you have plans to meet someone here?”
Her cougar purred at the possessive tinge to his voice and Izzy tried not to roll her eyes. “Plans change,” she said simply, and hurried ahead.
She breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she crossed the threshold of the inn. The warmth of the fireplace and heating system made her cheeks and nose tingle.
She turned and found Zane watching her with his head cocked. She tried to throw him a line, something to make him roll his eyes or scoff, but nothing came to her. She was trapped under his intense look, heart picking up speed.
“Izzy—” he started.
“There you are!”
Izzy froze with the last vestiges of teenage panic at being caught sneaking back inside after a forbidden party. Muriel barreling down on her did little to calm that instantaneous reaction, but she forced a smile on her face nonetheless. “What’s wrong, Aunt Muriel?”
“The gingerbread houses!” her aunt answered as if that alone was enough explanation. When their faces stayed blank, Muriel gestured to the dining room. “Hardly anyone has shown up for the building contest. I need bodies in those seats!”
Bodies, of course, meant her.
With a strained, apologetic smile to Zane, she followed her aunt into the dining room. The buffet stations had been cleared of proper food and filled instead with gingerbread kits and piles of candy meant for decora
tions.
Surprisingly, her dragon shadow followed. He grabbed a pack of graham crackers and tubes of frosting to start, leaving the decorations for later. She, on the other hand, added dollops of gumdrops, chocolate mints, and candy canes to her stash, one of the last immediately going in her mouth.
“Are you sure you’re from Firebend?” she asked, watching Zane from the corner of her eye. He had a real knack for cookie construction, that was for sure. While she struggled to hold one wall in place and attach a second, he already laid down the frosting foundation for his roof. “I’m starting to suspect you might be an elf and not a dragon at all.”
“First it was Santa, then it was one of his reindeer,” he griped. “Now an elf? Can’t you make up your mind?”
Izzy squeezed a dab of red icing onto her finger and wiped it against his nose. “Now you can be Rudolph for real.”
He glowered at her but didn’t immediately wipe his face. “Here,” he said, dragging his completed frame in her direction. “Decorate this once the icing has dried. I can’t watch you massacre your poor walls any further.”
She’d let him massacre her walls, hardy-har-har.
Some thoughts were better left in her head.
She stuck her candy cane back in her mouth as he went to work assembling the second gingerbread house. His delicate movements surprised her. With so much power packed under his skin, she expected him to crumble graham crackers between his fingers, but he held them gently and applied the right amount of pressure to adhere them together.
Once again, dirty thoughts of what those fingers might do to her filled her head.
She cleared her throat. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
“As a boy,” he answered. “Clearly, you were failed as a child. Let’s hope you can manage the decorating.”
She barked a laugh, then dug her elbow into his side. “Just keep building, manly man.”
“You haven’t said why you’re in town,” he said after a moment.
“Sure I have,” she deflected with an easy smile she didn’t feel. “I’m visiting my aunt.”
