A Mate for Christmas: Collection 1

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A Mate for Christmas: Collection 1 Page 53

by Zoe Chant


  He ducked to check the cupboard under the vanity and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he straightened. He looked like… well, either a guy who’d just had either the best or the worst night of his life, which was appropriate. His hair had dried in clumps and he teased a long-dead leaf out of it as he checked his scar. Still there, still tender, but it didn’t hurt as much anymore.

  None of it did.

  Jackson took a deep breath.

  He might look like shit, but he’d never felt better.

  He’d spent his whole life thinking that being the non-shifter son of two shifters meant there was something wrong with him. He’d thought that being a shifter’s mate would change that, fix him somehow… but he’d been wrong.

  He didn’t need to be a shifter to be happy. Or even a shifter’s mate. He wasn’t broken, or something to be ashamed about.

  He was human, and for the first time in his life that didn’t feel like a mistake.

  The sunrise feeling inside his chest rose up again and this time he let it. Joy spread through him like dawn light, filling his body with light and warmth. He felt as though he was floating on a cloud as the world around him came into focus. Colors brighter, light more intense, smells and sensations tuned to perfection…

  He let out a soft burst of laughter. All his life, he’d put up walls around his heart, scared that if he let anyone know how he felt about himself they’d realize he was right. That there was something wrong with him. Now, at last, those walls were coming down. He could be free and open with Olly. His true self. Happy with who he was.

  As the last of his defenses faded away, the lightness he’d felt when he woke up felt as though it was filling his whole body.

  For the first time in his life, he was content with himself. He was Jackson Gilles, human, and if Olly was happy with him just the way he was then he could be, too.

  The bathroom was filling with steam. He swiped the mirror clean to have one last look at himself before he jumped in the shower—

  His heart almost stopped.

  He looked in the mirror. His reflection looked back. But it couldn’t be his reflection, because the face looking back at him didn’t have his brown eyes.

  He steadied himself against the sink.

  His eyes in the mirror were silver.

  “What the fuck,” he burst out.

  “Jackson? Are you having a shower? Wait for me…”

  Olly’s voice echoed through the house. And through him.

  The sunrise feeling inside him soared. Strange energy filled him, from his heart to his fingertips. And further.

  Jackson cried out wordlessly as sparks shimmered at the tips of his fingers. His legs gave out beneath him. Maybe this was a dream after all because there was no way in fuck this was happening.

  The shimmers surrounded his body, then sank back into it. And his body changed.

  He lay gasping on the floor. He tried to get up, but his legs—oh, no. Oh, shit no.

  Jackson staggered to his feet. All four of them. And they weren’t feet, they were hooves.

  Steam was filling the bathroom now. He could just make out his reflection in the mirror.

  He was a pegasus.

  This isn’t possible. Jackson’s mind rebelled as hooves—his hooves—slid on the slippery tiles. People didn’t just become shifters. Except for hellhounds. But normally, people were either born as shifters, able to communicate telepathically even before they gained their animal forms, or they stayed human. Even if their animal forms came in late, there was always some hint.

  A pit opened up inside him, hollow and gnawing. He’d been right all along. He had been broken. Walking around the world half-finished. His true nature had been waiting inside him all this time.

  The universe must have it in for him. The moment he finally felt happy with who he was, who he was changed.

  “No,” he tried to gasp, but it came out as nhhhhrrrr! He stepped back and almost slipped, hooves clattering on the tile floor. Both wings whipped out. The towel cupboard went flying.

  Joy bubbled up inside him in equal amounts to the horror creeping down his spine. But it wasn’t his joy.

  Hello! a voice echoed inside his head. Oh, isn’t it a wonderful morning to be alive?

  “What,” Jackson tried to say. In the mirror, the pegasus’ nostrils flared.

  I can’t talk, he thought. Of course I can’t, horses can’t—

  Talk? You’re talking now! We’re talking now! Isn’t it marvelous?

  The pegasus—he—no, it was definitely the pegasus—pranced.

  Oh God, Jackson thought-said.

  I’ve been waiting so long for this moment! To really exist! Now we’re together, our fates will—ooh, what’s that? Is that fog? Why’s it so warm?

  The pegasus’s voice was like an orchestra in full swing. Jackson would have clutched his head, if he had hands. And a normal head.

  What are you talking about, our fates? he demanded instead. What are you—how are you—how am I—

  Andrew. His stomach sank.

  This was why Andrew had come. He’d somehow known that Jackson was a shifter, and he’d…

  A shifter. No, I can’t be…

  “Jackson? Are you in there?”

  The bathroom door bumped against the pegasus’ hindquarters.

  Someone’s calling for you! his pegasus gasped wondrously. Who is it? Do you know them?

  Jackson’s heart joined his stomach. She’s…

  My dream woman. The best thing ever to happen to me. My… my Olly.

  Dread coursed through his veins. I can’t let her see me like this!

  See you? Don’t worry, she’ll only see me!

  That’s what I meant!

  “Jackson?” The door handle rattled. “Unlock the door! It’s freezing out here…”

  Jackson groaned. If she was cold, she probably hadn’t bothered to get dressed. He could imagine her standing right there on the other side of the door, naked and gorgeous and in love with him.

  No. Not him. With the man she thought he was. The man he’d thought he was, too.

  How was he going to explain this to her?

  “Are you okay in there?” Olly’s voice held a hint of concern. “I can sense something… strange.”

  Jackson went completely still. To his relief, his pegasus went still, as well. Not one feather so much as trembled.

  “It’s almost as if… as if…” Olly’s voice trailed away. “We are the only ones here, aren’t we?”

  Who is she? His pegasus wondered. Its nostrils flared. She smells like…

  I need to talk to her, Jackson told it.

  Okay! His pegasus replied, and did nothing.

  In human form.

  “I think someone might be coming.” There was a soft noise like Olly was resting her hand against the door. “It feels like…” A short, negative sound. “I’ll just go… check it out.”

  Listen to her! She’s already sensing something’s wrong. If she sees me—us—you like this, she’ll freak out. I have to explain it to her. In person. He paused. Human person.

  Jackson felt a strange pressure against his mind. It was like his pegasus’s voice, but from outside. He pushed it away without thinking.

  Aw… His pegasus shook its mane out and, with a swoosh of feathers, somehow dove back inside him.

  Jackson gasped and opened his eyes. The first thing he saw were his hands, splayed on the floor. His hands. Human hands. Fingers. Thumbs.

  “Thank God,” he muttered, and jumped to his feet. “Olly—”

  He pulled the door open. Olly was halfway down the hallway. In front of her, an open doorway led into the living room. Windows opened out from the living room to the frozen forest beyond, but she wasn’t looking at them. Her head was angled up, as though she was trying to glare straight through the building into the sky.

  Jackson couldn’t help stopping to stare at her. She was as naked as he’d imagined, outlined in the light coming through the doorway li
ke a statue of some ancient, wild goddess. Every line of her body radiated feminine beauty as she lowered her head, still facing away from him.

  His pegasus stirred. Is she—

  CRASH!

  21

  Olly

  He’s here!

  Olly’s owl screeched with joy. She shook her head, confused. Who’s here?

  As soon as Jackson had vanished into the bathroom, her owl had sensed… something. Something that made it sit up and practically start to sing with excitement. Jackson wasn’t coming out of the bathroom, and all she could think of was that her owl must have sensed someone outside, since it had never gotten this excited about Jackson before, and they were the only ones in the house. She flung open the door, barely noticing the cold, caught up in her owl’s excitement.

  It’s him! her owl trilled. Yes, this is the best thing that could have happened! Can’t you smell him? Hear him?

  Her senses blazed. She tasted starlight on clouds, the bright ice of midnight air. Fireworks went off inside her brain. Her owl was so overcome it couldn’t use words. Wonder and amazement billowed inside her, like clouds parting to let the sun in.

  She blinked, and when her eyes cleared they locked onto one thing. Standing on the snow outside, with snow settling around it from its abrupt landing, was a massive, silver-winged pegasus.

  It’s him? What’s him?... No. You can’t mean…

  Jackson’s voice filtered through her owl’s rapture. “How the hell did my father find out where I was staying?”

  His father?

  Jackson’s father. Jackson’s father the pegasus shifter. Jackson’s father the pegasus shifter, whose sudden appearance had made her owl flop around in rapturous happiness.

  There was only one thing that could mean.

  Oh God. Oh, no no no no no.

  Her breath rattled in her lungs. “I’ve got to—”

  She backed away as fast as she could, colliding with Jackson. His strong hands held her up, but she couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t look out the windows, either.

  This was how it was meant to work. She knew that, now. Her owl had sensed her mate before she’d even set eyes on him. Which meant he might have sensed her, too, if his animal was anything like as watchful as hers. If it wasn’t… maybe she still had a chance to escape her fate.

  If she caught his eyes, he’d definitely know. And then it would all be over.

  There were several key steps to forming a mate bond. Every shifter who’d gotten past puberty knew about them.

  First, you lock eyes with your potential mate. Your animal knows at once who they are and that you’re meant to be together. Then, to form the actual, real mate bond… you sleep together.

  Olly’s throat locked tight, holding back the tears that were burning behind her eyes. Now that she’d felt the true mate connection, she felt like even more of a fool for thinking Jackson was her mate.

  Her breath hitched. She could barely force the words out. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to…”

  “I’m the one who’s sorry.” Jackson’s voice was grim. “I didn’t know he was going to turn up like this. I know you hate surprises. If you need to take off—”

  “Yes,” Olly gasped, clinging to the excuse and hating herself for it. She dragged herself out of his grasp and ran up the stairs.

  She had to get away.

  At the top of the stairs, she shifted so fast her head spun. She’d forgotten to open the window first and attacked it with beak and claws until it opened. The icy morning air whispered across her feathers.

  What’s the problem? her owl asked, coming down from its dizzy haze. I thought you’d be happy!

  Happy? Olly flung herself into the air, desperate to get as far away from the cottage as possible. How could this make me happy?

  She couldn’t blame her owl for being so happy. This was natural for it—more natural than doing its best not to find her mate, like it had tried to do.

  Her owl had found her mate.

  And it was Jackson’s father.

  22

  Jackson

  Why did she run away?

  Jackson ground his teeth. His pegasus’ voice was like… sparkles. Sad sparkles. Like puffs of glitter shaped like unhappy faces in his brain. I told you. She doesn’t like surprises.

  But we didn’t surprise her!

  No, Jackson agreed, his shoulders slumping. He did.

  …I suppose it is a little bit my fault, then. Somehow, even though it only existed inside his head, his pegasus managed to scuff one hoof. Sadly.

  You know who he is? Jackson stalked back into the bathroom, picked up his towel and wrapped it around his waist.

  Of course I do! He’s my sire. Your… daddy?

  Jackson winced. My father.

  He paused and groaned. Of course his pegasus was the reason Andrew was here. Why else would his father turn up after so long?

  Jackson was finally worth paying attention to.

  He walked back out into the living room, wishing with each step that the earth would swallow him up. Andrew was still on the front yard, and still in pegasus form. He fluttered his wings as he saw Jackson through the windows.

  *Kiddo!*

  Jackson jerked and put a hand to his temple.

  That was his fa—Andrew’s voice. Inside his head.

  “How did you do that?”

  The Pegasus trotted up to the window and shrugged. Its wings rippled expressively. *The same way I always do.*

  Jackson’s head hurt. He ran one hand over his face. He should have seen this coming. Telepathy came part and parcel with being a shifter, and if that’s what he was, then…

  “Olly,” he muttered. “I could talk to her—but I don’t know how…”

  *What was that? These old ears, you know, they just don’t work like they used to.* Andrew the pegasus flicked his ears.

  “I said—” Jackson stilled himself.

  He didn’t even know how to start.

  But he’d heard Andrew’s voice in his head. He focused on that.

  What had Olly said once? That sometimes being a shifter was like having your whole brain be an open field ready for people to dive-bomb. He didn’t want that. He imagined his mind like a room, and Andrew’s voice filtering in through a half-open door.

  A door he could close, if he wanted to.

  He bent his head, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with self-consciousness and his insides prickling with disgust. Why was he worried about making a fool of himself in front of this asshole?

  Better to get it wrong now and figure out how to do it right, than mess up more with Olly.

  Yes! his pegasus piped up suddenly. We can’t embarrass ourselves in front of outsiders!

  Olly’s not an outsider, Jackson argued. She’s…

  *Yoo-hoo? Son? Still alive in there?*

  Jackson worked his jaw. This is bullshit. Something’s gone wrong here. I’m not a shifter, I’m—

  Something clicked inside his head.

  *—I’m nothing but human.*

  The pegasus outside bridled its wings. *Au contraire, son. You’re nothing like human.*

  Somewhere inside him, Jackson’s pegasus flicked its mane. Cold pooled on every inch of Jackson’s skin. *No. This has to be a—*

  *You’re not drunk, or dreaming. You’re a pegasus shifter, son, just like your old dad.*

  “This doesn’t make any sense. If I was a shifter, wouldn’t I have known about it before now?”

  *You do know. Right now.* The pegasus shook out its mane. *We pegasus shifters are different to the common sort, son. We may take longer than the average shifter to arise, but when we do, we’re more exceptional than any other creature under the sun. Take me, for instance. I was seventeen before my pegasus fledged. Seventeen!* He huffed. *Mid-twenties is taking it a bit far, but…*

  “I’m almost thirty.”

  *Really?*

  Jackson had never seen a pegasus shrug before. Light glittered off a thousand gleaming fe
athers.

  *Better late than never. Oh, and don’t go shouting that around, will you? I don’t need it getting out that I’m pushing fifty.*

  *Right, because God forbid…* Jackson stopped.

  Telepathy. He was speaking telepathically, and it felt as natural as breathing.

  Oh, hell.

  *How could I stay away?* Andrew’s silver wings gleamed in the morning sunlight. *You’ve finally made your debut, son, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. My first fledgling, out in the world at last.*

  *Of course you wouldn’t.* Jackson closed his eyes briefly and his mind leaped to Olly—wherever she was. Flying to safety. Without him.

  He concentrated. Was that—could he really sense—like a star peeking through the treetops, bright and pure—

  Who’s flying? Ooh, shall we fly? Yes! I want to try!

  Jackson snapped his attention back to the kitchen. “No!” he gasped, the single word garbled as his body started to transform. “Not now!”

  He managed to hold on to his human form. He didn’t know how, but when he clutched at his forehead, it was with human hands, not hooves.

  Andrew was still waiting outside, watching him.

  He sighed. *You’d better come in,* he called, and went around to open the front door. *But before we talk, I’m going to have a goddamned shower.*

  Andrew had shifted back by the time Jackson got out of the shower. He was wearing another suit. He even had a bloody tie on, Jackson noted sourly. With a gold pin.

  He looked closer and swore.

  Andrew preened. “Great, isn’t it? I had them made special. I’ll give you the number for the jeweler.”

  “Horse-head pins aren’t really my style.”

  “It’s a pegasus head. Now, what about some breakfast? Tell me you’ve got some coffee in this place.”

  Jackson was tempted to go and get the old instant coffee packets out of the glove box in his truck, but that would be as much a punishment for himself as for Andrew. He put on a fresh pot of coffee and Andrew followed him into the kitchen.

  So, he thought, pulling two mugs from the cupboard. He was a pegasus shifter. He could either deny what he’d seen with his own eyes and experienced with his own body, or he could find out what it meant to be one—from the only other pegasus shifter around.

 

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