Cupid Claws: The Twelve Mates Of Christmas, Book 6

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Cupid Claws: The Twelve Mates Of Christmas, Book 6 Page 1

by Sylvan, Sable




  Cupid Claws

  The Twelve Mates Of Christmas, Book 6

  Sable Sylvan

  www.sablesylvan.com

  Copyright © 2018 by Heather Davies/Sable Sylvan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Cupid Claws

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  The Twelve Mates of Christmas — A Sable Sylvan Christmas Spectacular

  Sneak Peek: Donner Claws

  About the Author

  Cupid Claws

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  His mistletoe ain't for kissing...

  Matchmaker Rowan Hooligan has helped Fate pair up many shifter couples, but he still hasn't found his fated mate.

  This werebear's meddling has gotten his furry butt on The Naughty List.

  Because Rowan put off his own search for a mate, he loses his mate mark and his shift. To get them back, he's going to have to get off of The Naughty List and claim his fated mate by Christmas.

  Oh, and he has to pull Santa Claus' sleigh on Christmas Eve.

  The only problem is, Rowan's a bad boy matchmaker. If he doesn't listen to Cupid -- Santa Claus' flying reindeer -- Rowan might end up losing his true love forever.

  Get ready for a very Merry Christmas.

  Rowan and Holly go together like candy canes and cocoa...

  When curvy baker Holly meets Rowan, she feels as if she's been shot by Cupid's arrow. It may be the Christmas season, but every day spent with Rowan feels like Valentine's Day.

  The only problem is, Rowan has a secret he's keeping from this BBW -- and he's doing things all wrong.

  The only thing that could possibly make things more complicated is one of Rowan's trademark singles mixers. Singles aren't the only thing mixing. When Fate and Christmas magic get mixed together like gingerbread dough in a mixing bowl, anything can happen.

  Has the matchmaker met his match?

  When Holly hears Rowan say something horrible, she assumes the worst. Will Rowan win back his true love in time for Christmas? And will he claim her before he loses his shift forever? There's only one book with the answer, and that's 'Cupid Claws.'

  This story, featuring a bad boy werebear and a BBW baker, is loosely based on The Ugly Duckling.

  Prologue

  Thanksgiving, 2012

  Rowan Hooligan carefully navigated the bumpy roads leading through the Nuthusk Forest to the Clan Marron lodge. His van was suited to the paved streets of Seattle, not the rural roads he’d traveled down on his way to the small town on the Washington-Oregon border.

  Rowan pulled into the nearly full lot. As he pulled in, he spotted a helicopter on the new helipad outside the lodge. That meant that Connor Brian was in town, and if that was true, Rowan wanted to see precisely who Connor had claimed as his mate. Rowan had tried to pair Connor through his specialized service, but Connor had always turned him down, even though Rowan would do it pro bono for a fellow bad boy bear shifter. The question wasn’t just who Connor had found, but how he’d found her.

  Rowan fixed his hair up and turned his work phone off, stashing it in the glove compartment. Rowan got out of the van and walked to the back of the van, where, leaning against the doors, trouble was already waiting for him.

  “Emily Hu?” asked Rowan. “You seem excited to see me. You looking for me to find you another mate? Or another four?”

  “Ha-ha,” said Emily sarcastically. “Took you long enough to get here. I was thinking I’d have to set up a chair and sit my fat ass in this spot to make sure you had a place to park.”

  ‘You worry about me too much,” said Rowan.

  “You saying I shouldn’t worry, after the game you started after the feast last year?” asked Emily.

  “Come on,” said Rowan. “Leave the punishments to the Clan Elders. All the singles had a ton of fun.”

  “And went home with hangovers that lasted two days,” said Emily. “You play up the good guy act, Rowan, but there’s a part of you that’s wild. I’ve seen that side come out before. It’s a force to be reckoned with. What did you bring this year? A barrel of tequila?”

  Emily moved out of the way while Rowan opened the back of the van. The inside was stocked to the top with baskets of baked goods.

  “Whoa, what is all that?” asked Emily.

  “A lot of grateful parents and grandparents sent these my way when they heard I was going to Clan Marron Thanksgiving,” said Rowan.

  “From the looks of it, so did some people that are hoping your good luck will rub off on them,” said Emily, looking at a large laminated head and shirtless body shot attached to one of the baskets, with a phone number written on the back. “You’ve got the luck of the Irish. Your favorite holiday should be St. Patrick’s Day, not Valentine’s Day.”

  “Your favorite’s Thanksgiving, right?” asked Rowan, grabbing a basket of baked goods in each hand.

  “Nowadays, it’s Christmas,” said Emily.

  Emily and Rowan carried the baked goods into the lodge. As they put down the last baskets, Emily caught some old women whispering within her earshot. She knew exactly what they wanted with Rowan.

  “I think you’ve got some people that want you to work your magic for them,” whispered Emily. “I think they’re banking on you giving them the Clan Marron special rate, as well.”

  “I wouldn’t’ve driven that big pink van here if I didn’t want the free advertising,” said Rowan with a grin.

  “Well, before you start that, do you want to meet my kids?” asked Emily. “They’re at the daycare with the other kids.”

  Rowan followed Emily down the lodge hallways, to the familiar doors of the chambers of the Council of Clan Elders.

  “This is where the daycare’s held this year,” said Emily.

  “You sure about that?” asked Rowan with a frown. “Don’t think Jasper would want to hire a service to clean the place up. I know what a mess shifter babies can make.”

  Emily quickly opened the door and, while Rowan was talking, pushed the sizeable male shifter into the chambers.

  Rowan fell backward onto his ass. He looked around and saw some familiar faces. The Council of Clan Elders was seated, waiting for him.

  “I know how this goes,” said Rowan, getting up and brushing himself off before sitting in a chair in the center of the room. “I’m in trouble for something. Well, whatever it is, I’m framed.”

  The Council chuckled. Rowan scanned their ranks. The Alpha of Clan Marron, Jasper Jackson, was seated in the center, and next to him, Connor frikkin’ Brian.

  “Connor?” asked Rowan. “What are you doing here? I saw your chopper out front.”

  “I’m here to talk to you about a…unique opportunity,” said Connor.

  “That sounds like you’re recruiting me into the Mafia,” said Rowan. “What’s going on?”

  “Let’s make this fast,” said Jasper. “You find a fated mate this year?”

  “No,” admitted Rowan. “I d
id help lots of other shifters find their mates.”

  “Frankly, that’s irrelevant,” said Jasper. “Those shifters aren’t in front of us today, begging to stay in the Clan.”

  “Whoa, who said anything about begging?” asked Rowan. “What’s going on?”

  “You didn’t find a mate, so, you’re in danger of succumbing to mate madness,” said Connor. “If you don’t find a mate, your bear takes over, permanently, and the Clan has to make sure you don’t get into any trouble.”

  “I’m not in danger of mate madness,” said Rowan. “I feel fine.”

  “Maybe you’ll be fine this year. Maybe you’ll be fine next year. But one day, you’ll stop being fine, Rowan,” said Jasper. “If you were already on the path to find your mate, I wouldn’t’ve had Emily bring you to the council, but, you need a wakeup call.”

  “What, you’re going to send me to some camp for bad boy shifters who haven’t found their fated mate?” asked Rowan.

  “What a smart boy,” said a mysterious voice. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

  A man appeared out of thin air, right in front of Rowan. Rowan knew he hadn’t been there a second before. He would’ve noticed if a man in a pitch-black designer suit, with disheveled black hair, a caveman’s stubble, and a thick gray metal chain around his neck had been in front of him before. The stranger had brilliant green eyes that reminded Rowan of wild limes.

  “Who are you?” asked Rowan. “What just happened?”

  “My kind likes to make an entrance,” said the man. “The name’s Krampus.”

  “Your…kind?” asked Rowan. “What kind of a shifter are you?”

  “Goat, but, I’m not just a shifter,” said Krampus. “I’m a demon, a Christmas demon, to be specific.”

  “A demon,” said Rowan. “Okay. Of course, there’d be a demon at Clan Marron’s Thanksgiving. Alright. What do you want?”

  “Wait, you don’t have any sort of disbelief about me being a demon?” asked Krampus. “You just managed to confuse a devil, boy. Did Connor tell you about me already? Or was it Cain? Ethan? Ryan? Sean?”

  “Uh, no,” said Rowan. “Look, dude. I’ve seen a lot of shit in my time. I’m a matchmaker. I’ve worked a different kind of magic on the daily, charm magic.”

  “That’s not a type of magic,” said Krampus. “Well, not for shifters. You aren’t one of the Fair Folk.”

  “Agree to disagree,” said Rowan. “So, what do you need?”

  “What do I…what?” asked Krampus. “Okay, Connor, you really didn’t tell him about me?”

  “This is just the kind of guy Rowan is,” said Connor, shrugging his shoulders. “He gets into shenanigans, don’t get me wrong. I think his last name being ‘Hooligan’ is rather apt. His matchmaking parties are wild. I’m pretty sure people have gotten pregnant at them. He’s a bad boy…but he’s a good guy.”

  “Yeah, so, what favor do you need?” asked Rowan. “If you’re a friend of the Clan, you’re a friend of mine.”

  “This is really no fun at all,” said Krampus. “Alright, Rowan. You believe in demons…but do you believe in Christmas magic, and Santana Claus?”

  “I believe in a guy named ‘Santa Claus,’ does that count?” asked Rowan.

  “Uh…yeah, that counts,” said Krampus. “You really believe in Santa?”

  “All I’m saying is, there are some gifts I got as a kid that I know my parents couldn’t afford,” said Rowan. “Santa? Totally real. Great guy. Do I get to meet Santa? I’m in, just for that.”

  “You are?” asked Krampus. “Okay, can I finish telling you what the deal is?”

  “Only if I get to meet Santa,” said Rowan.

  “Are you turning this around on me?” asked Krampus. “You might be the only shifter I’ve met who hasn’t made a deal with a devil, but rather, made the devil make a deal with him.”

  “Let’s shake on it,” said Rowan. “Promise I’ll meet Santa.”

  “Uh…okay,” said Krampus, shaking Rowan’s hand. “I promise you’ll meet ‘Santa,’ but please, call him by his full name, ‘Santana Claus.’ He doesn’t like that level of familiarity from adults.”

  “Okay, great, so, what do you need?” asked Rowan.

  “I’m Santana Claus’s right-hand man,” said Krampus. “As you know, Santana Claus has a magical sleigh he uses to deliver gifts to all the children on The Nice List every year. To drive that sleigh, he enlists the help of his eight reindeer. You follow so far?”

  “You talkin’ ‘bout Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen?” asked Rowan.

  “Yes,” said Krampus, rubbing his temples. “Okay. Well. Those beings require lots of magical energy to wield, and can only be wielded by a shifter host.”

  “I’m a shifter,” said Rowan. “I could be a host.”

  “Well, that’s why I’m here,” said Krampus. “You down for helping drive Santana Claus’s sleigh?”

  “Totally,” said Rowan. “How we doing this?”

  “I’m going to need to remove your bear shift from you,” said Krampus. “To do that, I need to remove your mate mark.”

  “Remove my mate mark?” asked Rowan. “But won’t that make it hard for me to find a mate?”

  “If I don’t remove your shift, then, you can’t have the reindeer spirit inside you,” explained Krampus. “Right now, you don’t have room for two shifts.”

  “Oh, then that’s fine,” said Rowan.

  “What?” asked Krampus. “I’ve never met a shifter willing to give up his shift.”

  “It’s for Santana Claus, for Christmas, for the kids, right?” asked Rowan. “It’s a favor to you, a friend of the Clan. I’ll do it.”

  “There’s the danger you might not get your shift back,” said Krampus.

  “Okay,” said Rowan. “I’ll just be extra careful.”

  Rowan stripped off his shirt, which had his business’s name on the front, and tossed it aside.

  “Alright, we doing this or what?” asked Rowan.

  “Okay,” said Krampus. “Take a seat. I need to bind you to the chair with demoncraft. If I don’t, your shift will resist my powers.”

  “Cool, let’s hurry this up,” said Rowan. “Christmas ain’t coming any later.”

  Rowan sat down on the chair and looked up at Krampus expectantly.

  Krampus took his necklace off and tossed it at Rowan. The chain expanded, surrounded Rowan’s chest, and bound him to the chair.

  “This is gonna burn,” said Krampus.

  “Cool, cool,” said Rowan. “We doing this or what? Come on.”

  Krampus looked back at the Council.

  “Jasper, is this guy fuckin’ nuts or something?” asked Krampus. “I’ve never met a shifter that acted like this. He believes in demons and Santana Claus and Christmas magic. He’s giving his mark and shift up.”

  “I told you, he’s too selfless,” said Jasper. “He’s avoiding the topic of talking about his fated mate. This is why he has to go North. Krampus, he’s tricky. He’s charming. He’s going to do whatever he can to avoid meeting women up there. That’s why I don’t just need you to train him. I need you to be his wingman.”

  “Every other lumberjack I’ve trained has relished the mere scent of a woman once I’m done with them,” promised Krampus.

  “This one’s different,” said Jasper. “He’s not crazy but…that boy ain’t right.”

  “Hello? I’m right here,” said Rowan.

  Krampus turned. He removed his suit jacket coat and tossed it aside. He rolled up his sleeves and placed his palm on Rowan’s chest. Rowan winced from the burning pain but tried not to wiggle away from the demon. Krampus pulled his hand away. On his hand was the mark.

  “I’m gonna keep this for you,” said Krampus.

  Rowan watched as the mark swam like a fish through a sea of symbols on Krampus’s arm, finding its place in a school of mate marks before disappearing beneath the signs and sigils.

  “Look down,” ordere
d Krampus.

  Rowan looked down. Across his clavicles was a bright red mark forming a word.

  “What’s it say?” asked Rowan. “I can’t read upside-down. I can barely read stuff that’s right-side-up.”

  “It says ‘Naughty,’” said Connor. “You’re on Santana’s Naughty List…”

  “…And I gotta get on The Nice List,” said Rowan. “Got it.”

  “The order matters,” said Krampus. “You have to—”

  “I don’t care,” said Rowan. “Let’s worry about that after I’m trained. Connor, dude! I’m gonna meet Santa!”

  “Santana,” corrected Connor.

  “This guy,” muttered Krampus. Rowan needed to know the rules. He’d get his mate mark back if he got off The Naughty List. He’d have to claim a mate by Christmas to keep his shift. This guy was rushing things. Years of putting off finding a mate and this guy was rushing to work for Santana? He wasn’t just a bad boy. He was downright Christmas crazy.

  Or maybe, it was the early signs of mate madness.

  After all, that was why Jasper picked Rowan to be this year’s ‘sacrifice’ to Santana. It wasn’t really a ‘sacrifice,’ but Krampus was a demon, and it sounded cooler than saying ‘shifter that had to be taught the meaning of Christmas.’ It was shorter too. Rowan had put off finding a mate, making him vulnerable to falling into mate madness and becoming his shift forever. That’s why Clan Marron needed Krampus to come and take away Rowan’s mark and shift.

  All that could be taken care of back at The Wreath. There were just a few more orders of business.

  “Hand out,” ordered Krampus. Rowan was still bound to the chair and put his hand out. Krampus pulled the magical snow globe out of his endless pockets and held it up to Rowan’s face. Rowan saw a flying reindeer inside of the snow globe.

 

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