Howling Under the Mistletoe: A Howls Romance (Cursed Howlidays Book 1)

by Gwen Knight

  Alasdair’s shoulders tensed. He knew Knox was at his back, and it seemed as though he wasn’t happy about that. But who would he choose to face down?

  “So, this is how it is,” Alasdair snarled. “You broke your promise, but I’m the one to blame?”

  “You didn’t have to murder six other wolves. Sort of makes you the villain of the piece.”

  He turned and threw me a scathing glare. “Watch yourself, lassie. When I’m done with these two, you’re mine for eternity. Might not want to piss me off.”

  I threw my head back and laughed. I couldn’t help it. “My father has been trying to control me my whole life. What makes you think I’ll make it any easier on you?”

  Appreciation glittered in Knox’s eyes. And if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a tiny wolfish grin curling his black lips. So long as someone was amused.

  “You could always walk away from this,” I suggested.

  Alasdair leaned over and spat on the ground.

  Gross.

  Conrad’s golden eyes shifted my way. I saw the sorrow within, the acknowledgement that he’d failed on so many levels. And the truth of Alasdair’s words. I wasn’t Conrad’s, and never had been. Sort of explained our mutual dislike of one another. But he was my alpha. I suspected that was the only reason he was here. If I vanished, the pack would accuse him of weakness, of failing me.

  I shook my head. This was nothing about protecting the daughter he’d raised, and all about protecting his standing in the pack. Made me hate him a little bit more. But right now, he was on my side. And I needed that. No way was I spending eternity in some underground sidhe packed full of fae. Never again to see the moon or breathe the clean mountain air. Never again to see Knox. Hell if I knew where he and I stood on things, but I wanted the chance to find out. Wanted to chance to see if we could become something more.

  Magic swelled.

  And not the kind the witches brewed. This was pure, unadulterated magic. The kind that sucked the air out of my lungs. I staggered back, my hand clutched to my chest as I fought to breathe.

  The hell was that?

  But when I lifted my head, I caught sight of Alasdair. He’d grown. Added another foot to his height and equal weight. He was downright terrifying now. The ebony markings that had once been flush against his skin seemed to take wing, as though they had a mind of their own.

  Shit. We were so out of our league. Not that I could voice that certain opinion.

  Knox and my father lunged, their savage snarls echoing in the parking lot. Heart in my throat, I watched as Knox bit down on Alasdair’s arm. His fangs punctured Alasdair’s skin, but it wasn’t blood that trickled out of his arm. Or, at least, not normal blood. Looked like black tar oozing from his skin.

  Knox yelped and stumbled back a step, his lips reared back as he swiped a paw against his muzzle. Blood didn’t taste great to begin with, but for that reaction… I sucked in a sharp breath, praying to whoever was listening that it wasn’t poison. Not that it mattered. A heartbeat later, he dove back into the fray, claws raking down the fae’s back.

  My father lunged for Alasdair’s throat, his teeth clicking at air when Alasdair feinted to the side. Without delay, the fae turned and slammed a meaty fist into my father’s side. I didn’t need sensitive hearing to catch the sound of his ribs breaking.

  Damn.

  I had to do something! I couldn’t just stand around and wait for them to die. And at this rate, their end seemed inevitable. Every inch of me wanted to shift. It was early enough that the streets were still bare. No one here to watch me strip down nude and change into a wolf. But what would that accomplish? My fangs were useless. Whatever that black shit was, it was working. Knox fell off Alasdair’s back and swayed. The gold rimming his eyes dimmed.

  Shaking off his stupor, he battled his way back in, using only his claws.

  Another swell of magic. I choked on the very air and staggered to my knees. The press of it was overwhelming, and I was five feet away from the battle. I couldn’t imagine the brunt of it for my wolves.

  Snarling under his breath, Alasdair turned and plucked Knox out of the air, his thick fingers tight around Knox’s throat. Alasdair pulled him forward until they were nose to nose, his eyes alight with untold power. His lips curled into a satisfied sneer. One squeeze and he’d shatter Knox’s neck.

  Panic burst within me.

  I raced into the fold. Changing wasn’t an option. I didn’t have the time. Claws extended, I sliced deep into his back, aiming for his spine, and I didn’t stop until I felt the bone beneath my fingertips. This thing wasn’t my father any more than Conrad was. If he died here today, so be it.

  Alasdair roared his displeasure and whirled around.

  His eyes widened, as though he hadn’t expected me to attack. Lip curled, he struck. I ducked his fist. If he landed a single hit, I was done. His size and strength alone at least twice mine. All I had was my speed. Something he seemed to lack. I dodged the second attack, and third. The fourth took me on the upper chest.

  The blow knocked the very wind out of me. I lurched backward, black stars twinkling in my vision. Before it cleared, two solid arms wrapped around my torso and squeezed.

  “Game over, lassie,” Alasdair snarled. “If I have to drag you out of here broken and bleeding, I will. Thankfully, you heal fast, and I have magics for anything you can’t heal.”

  He applied an ounce of pressure. I gasped for breath, every bone screaming with pain. My head fell back and a terrible shriek spilled from my lips.

  Another ounce of pressure.

  Agony lit up my whole body. Tears spilled down my cheeks, my legs kicking mercilessly at him. So, this was what it felt like to be caught in a python’s grasp.

  The first bone snapped, and ripped a fresh scream from my throat. Oh, God. Just kill me. Please.

  My prayer went unanswered.

  An enraged howl lit up the morning air, and just as the world started to fade, I toppled to the ground, free of the snake’s hold. Though my head was spinning, I blinked open my eyes to find my father on two legs, freshly shifted out of his wolf form, and battling with the fae at untold speeds. Blow for blow, the two were ruthless.

  My gaze shifted to Knox as I cradled my side. Relief lessened the pain for a brief moment when I saw him on his feet and rushing back into the fight.

  A momentary relief.

  Because this was a battle we weren’t going to win.

  Though my father met Alasdair’s every blow, there was a weariness setting in. One Alasdair lacked. And Knox fared no better. He struck where he could, careful not to disrupt my father’s attacks. And still, the faery was winning.

  I refused to let that happen.

  Arm tucked into my side, I forced myself to my feet and limped toward the Cleary shop. One, maybe two ribs broken, an arm for sure. So far, I’d fared the worst of this fight.

  Whipping through the entry, I ignored the carnage and shot straight toward the cash register. There had to be something… I wrenched out the till and sifted through the money. A gun, a knife, something. Three women running a shop—they had to have some form of protection.

  I cursed under my breath when my search came up fruitless. Who the hell owned a shop without some form of weaponry to defend against robbery?

  A yelp.

  Another howl.

  A roar.

  Fuck!

  I needed to do something. From the sounds of it, the fight wouldn’t last much longer. I raced through the store, shoving things around in search of anything that could help. And that was when I found it.

  The moment my fingers curled around it, I gave a toothy smile.

  “Thank you, ladies,” I whispered.

  I lifted the black-handled blade up to the light and studied it. Most who practiced witchcraft avoided iron, for fear of insulting the fae. But the Cleary sisters had always been different. The metal was dark and polished. My only hope was that it was forged from iron. I might have been half-fae, but iron had neve
r bothered me, likely thanks to my werewolf lineage.

  I rushed out of the shop, my heart pounding in my chest at the sight of my father sprawled on the ground, blood gushing from his throat, and Knox still waging war against Alasdair.

  I didn’t hesitate.

  With what I hope was an iron athame in hand, I sprinted across the parking lot, my vision dotting from the pain. Knox feinted to the left, a movement Alasdair predicted. He struck once, his blow slamming into Knox’s muzzle, then again, the second hit taking him on the shoulder.

  Out of time, I leapt into the air. A cry spilled from my lips—half agony, half determination. I came down on his back, legs wrapped around his waist, and drove the athame through the back of his head and out the other side.

  Then I held on for dear life.

  A thunderous roar tore free of his throat. He whirled around, blindly reaching for me—the little spider monkey on his back. His fingers gripped me by the hair, but I held on and twisted the blade for added measure.

  Black tar oozed over my hands, my flesh burning whenever it touched me.

  I let out my own frustrated cry. Why the hell wasn’t he dead? Unless it wasn’t iron. Unless that myth wasn’t true. A fresh wave of panic started to sink in. If this didn’t work, we were truly out of options.

  And then I felt it. A shiver that rippled through his entire body. With me still locked onto his back, Alasdair started to shrink, returning to his original seven-foot height.

  Maybe that was why I loosened my grip.

  Stupid move, really.

  Because a second later, I was sailing through the air, the wind whistling in my ears.

  I knew without a doubt the landing would hurt. I tried to brace for it. But nothing could prepare me for colliding with a brick wall.

  Thankfully, I never felt the blow.

  The moment I struck the side of the Cleary shop, darkness enveloped me.

  10

  Thirst woke me.

  My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself staring up at the ceiling in my bedroom. Swathed in blankets, I could hardly move. My mother’s doing, I was sure. At least I was warm.

  I shifted my weight and winced when a dull pain in my side reminded me not to move quite yet. Bits and pieces of the fight came back to me. Alasdair. Ugh. Next time a fae wants to abduct you, let him. Surely eternity underground had to feel better than this.

  Distantly, I recalled Knox’s hands steadying my head as he screamed my name, my father’s bruised and bloodied face flashing in and out of darkness, and so much blood. What I couldn’t recall was being relocated to my bedroom. Thank goodness. Bet it hadn’t felt too great.

  There were some more flashes of consciousness afterward. My mother sobbing next to me while Knox paced anxiously at the foot of my bed. Low murmured words talking about swelling, and fractured bits of bone lodged in my brain. Talk of permanent brain damage, if I ever woke up. I’d stopped struggling against the darkness at that point. Better oblivion than listening to the damage I’d sustained at Alasdair’s behest.

  My last memory before waking was playing chess in a park with a weathered old man. The reaper, I was convinced. Or…a brain-addled dream that would never make any sense. That seemed more likely.

  A table sat next to my bed with a glass of water on top. Parched, I reached out with my good arm and brought it to my mouth. Warm and a bit stale, but I didn’t care. It went down like pure ambrosia.

  “Rumor?” a whispered voice in the darkness.

  I froze, my heartbeat surging.

  “Shh. It’s just me.” A figure stepped out of the shadows. Juniper. One of my packmates.

  Jesus. “Don’t do that,” I rasped.

  “Sorry. Your mother asked me to sit with you for a few hours. She needed some sleep.”

  I handed the water to Juniper, then settled against the pillow. The back of my skull throbbed to the beat of my heart. But as my pulse slowed, so did the pain. Manageable. So long as I didn’t get too excited, it was little more than a tender ache.

  “Is what they’re saying true?”

  I slitted an eyelid and stared at the young wolf across from me. “What?”

  “That you killed a fae?”

  “I have no idea. Did I?”

  Her head canted, the moonlight softening her face. “You don’t remember?”

  “Little thing called a shattered skull. Tends to scramble one’s brains.”

  “Oh, gosh.” She dropped down into the seat next to the bed, her hands folded in her lap. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  I waved my good hand, suddenly exhausted. Damn. I felt like I could have slept for another week at least. Wouldn’t have minded another game of chess, so long as it didn’t end with me walking through a set of pearly gates.

  “Is everyone all right?” I whispered.

  “Yes. Your father, though…”

  Both eyes opened and locked onto Juniper. Which father? How much did she know?

  “He stepped down.”

  I shot up in bed, then immediately regretted it. I gasped. The pain in my side and arm was nothing compared to the torment rattling around in my head.

  “Cripes, Rumor! Are you all right?”

  I cursed, my fingers fisting in my hair. Tears pricked at my eyes and streamed down my cheeks.

  “Shh.” Juniper touched my shoulder, her voice gentle and reassuring. “Deep breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

  I followed her lead, my chest heaving as I fought not to pass out.

  Her hands curled around my shoulders and helped me back against the pillows. “Maybe don’t do that again.”

  “You think?” I croaked.

  Sweet Jesus, what the hell had Alasdair done to me?

  “I should have eased you into it,” Juniper continued.

  “Start from the top.”

  She eyed me warily.

  “I’m fine.” Just a pounding headache the size of Everest.

  “No one really knows how it happened. But you father isn’t the alpha anymore. Something has changed inside of him.”

  Probably Alasdair’s death. Magic was a funny thing. Unless originally stipulated, death can break all spells. Though regret weighed on my shoulders, I realized it was for the best. Borrowed power was dangerous.

  “Has Mathis taken over?” I asked, referring to Conrad’s beta. Funny how quickly I no longer thought of him as my father. Not that I was willing to share that tidbit of information with Juniper.

  “Yes.”

  So, now I was the third-highest ranking wolf in the pack. Interesting. Guess I owed my strength to my mother. Which, speaking of… “And my mother?”

  “Maybe you should wait—”

  “Juniper.”

  She sighed and rounded her shoulders. “She kicked your father out. I don’t know what happened there, either.”

  I did. My mother must have learned the truth. Whether my father had come clean, or Knox had informed her, I wasn’t sure. But no way she would have stayed with my father after everything. God, I couldn’t even imagine how this might affect her. To know the man she’d chosen had done such a vile thing.

  “Where is my father?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

  I gave a slow, gentle nod. I’d find out. The old man and I needed to share some words. “And…Knox?”

  Juniper’s mouth twisted. “What’s going on with you two?”

  I lifted a brow. Hell, even that hurt. Juniper and I were packmates, but never friendly enough for me to disclose my personal matters with her. Or anyone, for that matter.

  She lowered her hand back into her lap. “He hasn’t been by for a few days now. Once the doctors listed you as stable, he took off.”

  Disappointment crested over me. Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. I wasn’t an alpha’s daughter anymore. What benefit was there to being with me? Still, the rejection stung.

  “Rumor?”

  “Probably for the best,” I murmured. Fresh tears prick
ed at my lashes, ones born of emotional pain rather than physical.

  I’d thought… Hell, I had no idea what I’d thought. That we would be together when this all ended? That I’d join his pack as his mate? What good was that? Third-highest wasn’t anything to scoff at, but Knox needed someone better than that.

  “I think I’d to sleep a little more now,” I whispered.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Tired,” I admitted. “You don’t need to sit with me anymore. I’m not going to suddenly die.”

  “But your mother…”

  “It’s fine. Tell her I sent you on your way.”

  She rose from her seat and nibbled on her bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

  I didn’t bother responding. Instead, I placed my head gently against the pillow and closed my eyes. The moment she left the room, I let the weight of depression bear down on me. Why was I upset? A week ago, I never would have thought twice about Knox.

  Matters of the heart weren’t so easily explained, but I knew why I was upset.

  I wasn’t that stupid.

  By Christmas morning, I was back on my own two feet again. My head still throbbed now and then, but it wasn’t unmanageable. At least my arm and ribs were healed. Made moving slightly easier.

  At the sound of soft music and the smell of pancakes, I stumbled down the stairs. Seemed my mother had decided to make a go of Christmas. A tree sat in the furthest corner of the house, decked in garland and flickering lights that hurt my head. Not that I’d ever tell her that. The effort alone made my heart swell with love.

  Other than the music, it was quiet.

  Normally, Christmas was the day the pack gathered together at their alpha’s house. That house was no longer ours. And I wasn’t in any shape to trudge through the snow to Mathis’ place. Not yet, anyway.

  The stairs creaked beneath me, and my mother turned, a happy smile lighting up her face. “Merry Christmas!”

  Her enthusiasm was contagious. I felt my own lips tug upward. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

  “I made your favorite. Cinnamon pancakes with raspberry syrup and whipped cream.”