Christmas After Dark: A Holiday Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Abigail Owen

  “Cade Campbell. If you don’t want me shooting, get your ass out from under him.”

  The sound of his brand new mate’s shout, and the words themselves, sent a surge of adrenaline through him. He wasn’t only fighting for himself and his place as alpha now. This was the man who’d scared Shyla so badly she’d taken to living in a pristine environment in case she needed evidence, had denied herself Christmas decorations and companionship, and obviously learned how to shoot a gun.

  All because of the wolf trying to kill him.

  Growls dropping lower in tone, Cade managed to flip and heft himself to his feet even as Keith went for the back of his neck again. The other wolf still half on him, he swung around, and managed to lock his teeth around Keith’s front paw. Using that as leverage, he dragged the other wolf this way and that, shaking him hard to daze him. The second he felt give in his cousin, he dropped the paw and pounced, standing on his chest, teeth clamped around his throat.

  Cade held still. The smallest extra bit of pressure and a twist of his neck and Keith would be dead.

  The way his cousin held still, he knew it, too.

  Silence slammed down over the clearing with such force as every wolf watching stilled and watched closely; even the birds and critters ceased their noise.

  Spots started to dance in front of Cade’s eyes. Not a good sign, but he muscled through. “Do not move if you want to live.”

  Letting every wolf hear his thoughts, he spoke to Keith alone. “You are my blood, my kin, and that is the only thing keeping you alive.”

  Keith lay as still as a frozen pond in deep winter. Darkness feathered around the edges of Cade’s vision. He ignored it.

  “The fact that you dared to come at my mate should mean your life, but I won’t be like you or my uncle. Taking lives to hold power. So, you have a choice…”

  Keith was smart enough to remain silent.

  “You can concede defeat and leave here. You don’t ever come back. Or, you make me kill you now.”

  Muscles jerking and making his fur shake, most likely with impotent fury, Keith took a damn long time to decide, pushing the edges of Cade’s control over the darkness closing in on him to the brink.

  “I concede.”

  Triumph pushed the darkness back slightly. That’s it. I did it. I’m alpha.

  Slowly, carefully, Cade released his cousin, backing up to watch him closely in case he tried something underhanded. Deliberately, Cade also kept his head lowered, trying to hide the blood pouring from the wound at his neck, warm and sticky. Too much longer, and everyone would know. His black fur hid the blood, but the second it hit the white snow, they’d know. Or the metallic scent on the air would give it away. Luckily, they’d both sustained other minor wounds, so that bought him time.

  “Go.” He didn’t remove his stare from the grey wolf in front of him. “Anyone else who doesn’t want me for an alpha, feel free to join him. I won’t stop you.”

  He couldn’t anyway. Not in this state.

  Keith backed away cautiously. Once he was a good twenty feet from Cade, he turned and ran into the woods with a visible limp.

  Cade swung his stare around the other four wolves who’d stood beside his cousin, then aimed his gaze at the woods. “Anyone else? Hurry up. I haven’t got all night.”

  He needed medical attention. Now. Accelerated healing could only get him so far.

  Finally, five or six other wolves loped away after their fallen friend. Cade held still, fighting off the darkness that reduced his vision to a pinpoint, his muscles shaking hard at the effort to stay upright. He waited until he could no longer hear the sound of the wolves running away.

  Then, with a thought, he shifted, his body reforming and realigning, a groan falling from his lips unbidden as the pain magnified. He fell to his hands and feet, the biting cold of the deep snow stinging his bare skin raw.

  “Shyla,” he muttered. Or thought he did. Before darkness stole the world from him and he collapsed on the ground.

  “Cade!” he vaguely heard his mate’s shout before unconsciousness claimed him.

  11

  SHYLA

  Before she could run to her mate—lying half buried in the snow, blood seeping into the pristine white, though she wasn’t sure yet where it came from—the wolves who’d stood at his back shifted and lifted him, carrying him toward her. Toward the house. Every one of them naked, and she only had eyes for the man limp in their grasp.

  Her state of shock gave way to an almost eerie sort of calm. Unknowingly, she was already prepared for this day. This moment. “Bring him inside,” she called. “I have first aid equipment.”

  Shyla ran into the house, heedless of the snow she tracked across her floors. In the laundry room, she pulled out the tactical EMT pouch she’d stashed there the day she’d moved in. Beyond regular, obsessive checks that everything was in order, she hadn’t needed to touch it or use the training that she’d insisted on having the second she was old enough. If anyone was going to attack her again, she’d be ready for all the possibilities, dammit. Including physical trauma.

  The scrape of chairs being moved hurried her into the kitchen to find the men had placed Cade’s body on her kitchen table. He was losing blood damn fast. Already, her kitchen resembled a scene in a slasher film.

  The largest of the men stood with his hand clamped over Cade’s neck.

  No. Oh, God no.

  She rushed to the head of the table, shoving one of the chairs out of her way. “I’m an EMT,” she told the man.

  He didn’t hesitate. “The fucker nicked his carotid. Wolf shifters heal at accelerated rates, but not fast enough for this. We need to slow the bleeding so he doesn’t die until his body can fix it.”

  Shyla—listening as she unzipped the EMT kit and dug out what she needed—nodded. “Right. Keep pressure. I’m going to apply an occlusive dressing over the wound site.”

  As she pulled on latex gloves, she pinned another man standing back from the table with a hard look. “Get me a plastic baggie from the top right drawer by the sink.”

  While he did that, she moistened a sterile strip with saline. “Michael, right?” she asked the big man. Cade’s voice ringing in her head as he talked in wolf form had been an interesting experience.

  The man nodded.

  “Okay. Lift your hand on three.”

  A count of three.

  She almost lost it as she counted. “One, two, three.” But sucked it up and applied the dressing to the wound as fast as he let go. “Wash your hands. I’m going to need more help.”

  Waiting for him while containing her mate’s blood inside his body through pressure and sheer will was about the worst ten seconds of her life before Michael was by her side again. “Get some gloves on, then hold this down.”

  A few moments later, he took over, applying pressure.

  Quickly, she snatched the thick plastic bag from the other man whose name she didn’t know. After using scissors to cut it to a better size, she applied medical tape to three of the four sides then positioned it over his neck.

  Without being asked, Michael helped her tape it down tightly.

  Next, hands starting to shake slightly as reaction set in—damn, Cade was pale, like death on a bad day— she pulled out a roll of gauze and applied it over the dressing. Finally, she secured the dressing in place using a bandage, wrapping it over the dressing, then crossing over his opposite shoulder, under the armpit and back over the shoulder several times. Careful to make it tight enough to keep the pressure steady, but not so tight she cut off his windpipe.

  “Get him on his left side.” As the two men rolled him, she ran to the living room and grabbed some pillows which they worked together to arrange under his feet.

  That was it. That was all she could do with what she had here. “Should we call an ambulance?” she asked.

  Michael shook his head, lips a grim slash. He was still naked, and she still didn’t care. “They won’t be able to do much more. It’s up to
him now.”

  Monitor for shock. The words ticker-taped through her mind in the nasally voice of her EMT instructor.

  Quickly, Shyla checked Cade’s pulse, which was thready at best, his blood pressure, which was scary low, and his pupils, which remained dilated. She didn’t have fluid or oxygen to give him. What if his brain was dying even as his body repaired itself?

  Slowly, she hooked one of her scattered chairs closer and took her mate’s hand. She laid her head on the table so she could watch him, uncaring of what she lay on.

  Panic wanted to claw its way out of her, but she couldn’t let it. This was Cade. He’d been stubborn enough to stay away from her for ten years so that when he came back, he could protect her the right way from the situation with his pack. Strong enough to survive his uncle’s attack on him as a boy. Patient enough to wait her out and let her realize their connection on her own.

  “You better fucking live,” she muttered.

  Beside her Michael gave a choked sound. A laugh maybe, but one quickly suppressed. She ignored it. “Tell all the pack to go home. They’ve seen enough for one day. You and your men can stay, as long as you get dressed.”

  “The pack won’t want to leave until they know what’s happening with their new alpha,” Michael warned.

  “I don’t give a shit. Get them off my property.” She couldn’t deal with them right now. If Cade lived, he could apologize for her later.

  Vaguely, she was aware that Michael must’ve looked at one of his men, because several silently left the room. Hopefully to follow her orders.

  Then she stayed there, with her mate, unaware of the others moving around her from time to time. Checking his vitals every so often and praying for a Christmas miracle. Where was Santa when she needed him most?

  This was Christmas Eve after all.

  Shyla had no idea when sleep finally dragged her under. All she knew was that the softest touch being feathered over her face woke her. She blinked open heavy eyes to find her mate watching her with alert blue eyes, crinkled at the corners.

  Shyla sucked in a sharp breath and jerked upright, though he didn’t release her hand.

  “Hey,” he whispered, and pulled it up to kiss her knuckles.

  She shook her head. “Don’t talk. Your neck.”

  In total EMT mode, she checked his pulse and blood pressure. Back to normal. How was that even possible?

  A hand on her arm stilled her. “You’re covered in blood,” he croaked. Then grinned. “So is your kitchen.”

  Shyla glanced around, finally taking in the chaos reining in what had once been a pristine space. Her OCD kicked in hard all of a sudden, maybe because she knew her mate was going to live. “Well…shit,” she muttered, and let go of his hand to start tidying up.

  Until Cade snagged her by the waist and pulled her down on top of him with way more strength than anyone who’d lost that much blood should have a right to. “You stayed all dirty and gross for me? You must really love me.”

  She pinched his arm hard enough to make him yelp, then kissed him just as hard. “That was way too close to dying,” she complained against his lips. “Don’t do it again.”

  Strong arms tightened around her, and he claimed her lips in a long, possessive kiss, one with a hint of desperate gratitude that made her smile, despite herself. Her mate wasn’t as casual as he wanted to appear. Equally terrified of losing each other.

  “Hopefully I won’t have to do that ever again,” he soothed, tangling one hand in her hair.

  “Huh,” she huffed. “Don’t make those impossible promises. I thought we already talked about this right before you almost died.”

  Cade took her face in his hands, suddenly serious. “The fates wouldn’t be so cruel as to tear us apart now.”

  Shyla wasn’t so sure about that.

  “Merry Christmas, mate,” he whispered, and kissed her again, worshiping her lips with tenderness.

  A peep at the clock showed it to be almost morning, though it remained dark outside. “So it is… You know, I finally got what I wanted for Christmas,” she teased.

  “Oh?” His eyebrows rose over eyes filled with laughter. “What was that?”

  “You.” She took her time with a kiss that quickly dragged her under, building that beautiful pressure that she wanted to explore except for the other wolf shifters in her house who would hear.

  Plus, a niggling need of a different kind grew to a full-on itch and Shyla pulled back with reluctance. “You need to shower, and I need to…”—he glanced around the kitchen and grimaced—“burn the table and bleach everything.”

  Epilogue

  SHYLA

  The sound of jingle bells had Shyla chuckling before she even opened her eyes. “You’re obnoxious.”

  “But you love it.”

  She sat up to find Cade leaning over her bed, sleigh bells in hand, with the eager expression of a little boy. The man was wearing pajamas covered in red and green Christmas trees, and she loved him more than she’d ever thought possible.

  “Ready to open presents?” He practically vibrated with excitement. “I have a surprise for you.”

  She had one for him, too. A big one.

  A year into their mating. Cade had settled into his role as alpha, and she’d learned about being a wolf, her first shift coming on the full moon a month after he’d turned her. Now she could shift at will. A fact her brother Sean grumbled about, since it had taken him almost two years to master that skill. Cade had declared her a natural.

  “Come on.” He tugged on her hand. “Get up.”

  “I need to shower and—”

  She squealed as he hefted her out of their bed and carried her to the bathroom. “Get moving,” she was ordered. “I’ll be downstairs waiting with hot chocolate.”

  “Say no more.” In record time, she bathed, dressed, made the bed, still in her tight military fashion. Room in perfect order, she made her way down the stairs.

  At the entrance to the living room, she stumbled to a halt. Cade stood in the middle of the room, two cups of steaming hot chocolate making her nose twitch, a huge grin, and a beautiful white crib assembled behind her.

  Shyla put her hands on her hips. “How the heck did you know? That was my surprise!”

  His smile was apologetic. “I knew the second we conceived. I could smell the change.”

  “And you waited all this time to tell me?” she narrowed her eyes, not really angry.

  “I didn’t want to rob you of the whole peeing on a stick and seeing the lines thing.” Words that threw her anger out the window into the new powdery snow outside.

  “Why couldn’t I smell it?”

  He shrugged. “Because you’re nose blind to yourself.”

  Awesome. “Are you…” She bit her lip and started again. “Is it too soon?”

  They’d only had a year together after so long apart. She still had so much to learn. He still needed to focus on leading the pack.

  In answer, Cade put down the mugs, and Shyla did her best to ignore the way the liquid splashed over the side onto the glass top of the table. He swooped her up in his arms and kissed her lips and then his mark on her neck, making her tingle all over. “I’m thrilled. Elated. And terrified of breaking you.”

  She chuckled and kissed him. “I’m a wolf shifter, mister. I’m tough.”

  “You were tough long before I turned you.”

  She kissed him again for that. “It must’ve been meant to be, then.”

  “Fated. The perfect gift for me. My Christmases keep getting better and better.” he murmured, and kissed her long and hard, taking his time to explore and possess.

  Until she squirmed out of his arms laughing. “Let me just get a cloth to clean that spill up.”

  “Bah humbug,” he called down the hall after her.

  “You know you love me,” she called back over her shoulder.

  Her newly enhanced wolf hearing allowed her to pick up the sound of his chuckle, followed by a muttered, “More than
anything in the world. I guess Santa finally got things right.”

  The End

  If you enjoyed The Wolf I Want for Christmas, be sure to check out Abigail’s dragon shifters in The Rogue King.

  About the Author

  Abigail Owen

  Do you love plots that move hot and fast, feisty heroines with sass, alpha heroes with heart, a dash of snark, and oodles of sexy shifters? Welcome! You’ve found a friend here.

  Abigail Owen is a multi-award-winning paranormal romance author. Other titles include wife, mother, Star Wars geek, ex-competitive skydiver, spreadsheet lover, Dr. Seuss quoter, eMBA, organizational guru, Texan, Aggie, and chocaholic.

  Abigail currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own personal hero and their kids, who are growing up way too fast. She also writes award-winning steamy cowoboy romance and romantic comedy as Kadie Scott.

  http://www.abigailowen.com

  newsletter sign up

  Series by Abigail Owen

  Inferno Rising

  Fire’s Edge

  Legendary Consultants

  Shadowcat Nation

  The Svatura

  COMING SOON

  The Enforcer (Fire’s Edge #3) - 12.9.2019

  Thank You for Reading!

  Happy holidays and thank you for reading! We hope you found some new favorite authors and series you can’t wait to read more of.

  You can find more books by each of these authors at the links below.

  If you loved a story, please take a moment to leave a review for individual books at your favorite vendors. We really appreciate it!

  xoxo,

  Alyssa, Nina, Lisa, Sheryl, Juliette, & Abigail