by M. L. Briers
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There was a time and place for everything, and as Deborah tipped her head back on her neck to look up at Evan’s face, she thought that time was now.
Run!
Deborah lifted her hands, pulled on her magic, and zapped the shifter a good one. So good, that the man dropped to his knees on the ground, and continued down onto his face.
“Really?” George tossed up his hands in dismay.
That was when Deborah took off on fast feet.
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Of course, Deborah had no idea where she was, and that meant that she had absolutely no idea where she was going either. All she knew was that she needed to get away from the shifter — her mate — and fast.
It seemed like the fairy had other ideas. She tossed a look back over her shoulder, and there he was in his human form, chasing her.
“Why are you chasing me? You’re not my mate!”
Deborah called back at him, but there was no way that she was going to stop. That shifter was going to get up sooner rather than later — and she wanted to put as much distance between them as was humanly possible in the meantime.
“It’s my job!” George called back.
“To chase me?” Deborah tossed back over her shoulder, barely missing a tree trunk as she tossed a look back at George.
“I’m the Christmas fairy!” George called.
“Sure you are.”
“Trust me; I wish I weren't at times like this,” George grumbled.
“Stop chasing me!”
“Stop running!”
“I can’t!”
“Neither can I!”
Just then, George heard a hearty growl and the thud-thud-thud of big, heavy feet coming up behind him. He tossed a look back over his shoulder, and there was Evan — his arms were pumping against the air — and once again, he looked fit to kill.
George just hoped that he wasn’t fit to kill him.
Not that he wanted Evan to kill his mate’s, but if he was being entirely truthful, then self-preservation might just have kicked in.
“Why are you chasing my mate?” Evan growled.
“It’s my job!” George tossed his hands up as he carried on running. “Why can anyone understand that?”
“It’s your job to chase my mate?” Evan drew level with George and offered him a dark glare.
“I’m the Christmas fairy…” Evan’s fist shot out and connected with George’s jaw.
One moment they were running together side-by-side, and the next George was flying sideways through the air.
“And I’m Santa Claws,” Evan growled back over his shoulder as he continued after his mate.
George hit the ground at speed. The pain racked through his body, and his body protested in no uncertain terms.
George had thought he was going to stop on that first initial thud, but instead, he continued to roll, head over heels, head over heels, head over heels, until he came to a sudden halt — upside down against a tree trunk.
George groaned in pain.
“I — hate — shifters,” George grumbled.
He narrowed his eyes at the pink aura that buzzed in front of him.
‘Now we’re having fun! Don’t you think?’
“So much fun,” George grumbled.
‘Merry Christmas!’
“I hate Christmas — I hate you — I hate — Christmas!” George grumbled, and then gravity took his legs down to the ground, and he grunted in pain.
‘Bite your tongue!’ Jessica berated him.
“Don’t you dare…” But George was too slow, Jessica’s magic made him bite down on his tongue anyway.
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“Don’t run from me!” Evan growled.
He could feel his bear just under the surface of the skin trying to break free. If the bear burst from within him, then he was done for — because she would be done for.
In the moment after his beast burst from inside of him, Evan would have little control over what came next. Sure, he could fight and claw to gain control of the animals instincts — but, could he do it in time?
“Go find another mate!” Deborah called back over her shoulder as she raced into the open fields as fast as her legs could carry her.
“It doesn’t work like that, and you know it!” He growled back.
Suddenly Deborah felt the wind pick up, and she found herself running into the first hard snow flurries that were being whipped up over the sparse landscape. That was all that she needed.
“What? You thought I needed another challenge?” Deborah yelled in annoyance at Fate, the Goddess, the damn Christmas Fairy, or even Jack Frost — whomever it was that had conspired to send the winter flurries her way.
While she liked snow as much as the next girl — she preferred it when she was tucked up under a warm blanket, looking out of her window at it. Not, when she was running from a hyped up, testosterone-fuelled, mate-seeking, man mountain of a shifter that was chasing her.
“I’m catching you!” Evan called out.
He might have been at a disadvantage when she’d zapped him and taken his legs out from under him. But now that they were running, and he was catching up, he knew that she didn’t stand a snowball's chance in hell of getting away.
Did his witch really think that she could outrun him?
Silly witch.
He had her now. He had her in his sights, and he was going to snatch her right up.
What was she going to do fly away on her broomstick?
With a hearty squeal, Deborah found that her feet were running in mid-air. For one long moment; her brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening — and then she started to fall.
Evan couldn’t believe his eyes. One moment she was there — so damn close that he could practically taste it — and the next, she was gone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
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Deborah squealed out once more just before the ice water covered her head, and she plummeted deep down into the raging water. Her body seized up as her mind did the same from the shock to her system.
Fear held her in the palm of its hand. Confusion gripped her.
Yes, she knew that she was in the water. Yes, she knew that she needed to get out of the water.
But, that was easier said than done when she wasn’t entirely sure which way was up. The icy cold fingers of the freezing water seeped into her very bones.
It might have been seconds — it could have been minute — she wasn’t sure how long she had been under the surface. But she knew that she needed to breathe.
That was the moment when she felt the heat of his body around hers. Tight, strong arms wrapped around her, and an overwhelming sense of security flooded through her like the blood within her veins.
Then she was breaking the surface of the water and gasping for air. She held onto the shifter, as she coughed and spluttered against his shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” Evan growled.
It was only the fact that she was shivering uncontrollably against him that snapped off his need to berate her, to wring her neck for what could have happened, and his protective gene snapped on with the desperate need to get her to the safety of the riverbank.
There would be time enough to berate her for running from him. Right then, he needed her to be safe, warm, and he wasn’t about to let her out of his arms again until they were mated.
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“Well — who the hell — puts a river in the middle of a field?” Deborah grumbled in annoyance, her teeth were chattering, and her body was shivering against the cold that still had a hold on her bones.
She wasn’t just annoyed that she’d fallen into the icy water.
She wasn’t just annoyed that the shifter had saved her.
She wasn’t just annoyed that she hadn’t escaped.
But, she was bloody annoyed that she was being carried back across the field towards the truck
by a grumpy, growly, bad mood bear-man.
Oh, the irony of it all. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or roll herself into a ball and stay there for eternity.
“Mother Nature. See what happens when you run from your mate,” George berated her from a safe distance away from the bear shifter.
George wasn’t stupid, Evan was growling, moody, brooding, and the epitome of a bear with a sore head. He didn’t want to be anywhere near that man’s fist again.
“Why don’t you take your fairy head and shove it up your fairy…” Deborah snapped back, but she didn’t get to finish her suggestion when her mate talked right over the top of her.
“He’s right,” Evan growled.
“Well, thank you, it’s nice to be appreciated,” George offered back.
“Shut up, fairy,” Evan growled.
“And for all of two seconds before you’re back to your winning personality again,” George grumbled.
“Don’t you have a Christmas tree to sit on?” Deborah hissed out with all of the venom that she could manage to place within her tone when her teeth were still chattering so much.
“Yes, yours,” George shot back.
“Lucky then that I’m a witch and have no need for your silly traditions,” she shot back.
“Oh, I think there’s going to be a Christmas tree in your future,” George offered back.
“Over my dead body,” Deborah snapped.
“Could you two stop? It’s like ping-pong with hissy on one side and snappy on the other.” Evan growled.
“Well, at least your neck muscles will get a workout,” George offered back.
“Does it look like his muscles need a workout to you?” Deborah snapped back.
“Unless you to want to meet my bear, I suggest you both stop now,” Evan growled.
His beast was still firmly wedged under his skin. The animal would not back down.
It had experienced the danger that his mate had brought upon herself, and it wasn’t happy. It wouldn’t be happy until they were mated — bonded — for life.
Having the fairy around them didn’t help. Having the two of them snapping at each other was akin to a special kind of torture that Evan would rather not have to go through.
He needed to get his mate home. He needed to warm her through to the bone, and he didn’t need the Christmas fairy to stop causing any more problems.
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The heat in the truck had been stifling, but it felt so good to Deborah. Evan had yanked a super-sized sweatshirt over her head, obviously, one of his, and had gone without himself, as he wrapped her in a blanket, and tucked her in the front passenger seat of his truck.
Deborah hadn’t complained about being snuggled inside warm layers, or the heat of the truck. Although, the guilty gene had pinged that Evan was sitting there dripping wet as they drove to his cabin.
Deborah wanted to go home. She knew that she was in no danger, the man was her mate, and he would do her no harm. But, she also knew that spending any more time in his company would only enforce the mating pull between them.
It seemed that she didn’t really have a choice in the matter. She had mentioned the fact that her home was in the other direction — but, all that she had gotten for her trouble was a grunt.
That seemed to be Evan’s default mode. Grunting.
When they got to the cabin, it wasn’t any better. The man continued to answer any question that she asked with a grunt.
Evan’s back was turned toward her as he stood at the wardrobe and pulled out clothing while Deborah stood at the bedroom door, still wrapped in a blanket, and still shivering a little.
“The least you can do is actually talk to me after you chased me into a river,” Deborah said. She figured that if she pinged his guilty gene enough, then he might actually speak.
“I did not chase you into a river — you stupidly ran into one, and I had to fish you out,” Evan begrudgingly grumbled words.
CHAPTER EIGHT
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Deborah felt a sense of achievement. At least, she’d managed to get the man to speak, even if it was an accusation.
“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” she offered back. It still felt like a victory to her.
Evan grunted again. She rolled her eyes and her shoulder against the doorframe as she turned back into the living room of the cabin and eyed her surroundings.
For a man living alone, the place seemed very neat and tidy. Almost homely. She liked it — and she hated that she liked it — because she didn’t want to like it, or him.
Evan turned in place, clothes in hand, and grunted again as he started toward the door, and her. Deborah snapped to attention.
“Bath,” Evan growled.
“Go right ahead. I’m not going anywhere,” she offered back.
“What are the odds?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice and batted her guilty gene once more.
Damn, she hated that she felt guilty. Why should she felt guilty about trying to escape her fate?
She didn’t ask fate to be a mate. She certainly didn’t ask fate to deliver her a big, growly, broody, bear shifter for Christmas.
Unfortunately, this was not a Christmas present that she could give back or exchange.
Fate sucked.
That Christmas fairy sucked.
Christmas just sucked in general.
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George kicked out at a clump of grass and muttered curses under his breath. He’d followed the shifter’s truck all the way back to the cabin in the witch’s car, cursing and muttering the whole way.
‘George, give it a rest, they are where they are supposed to be,’ Jessica grumbled as she flitted by his head.
Surprisingly, George did not reach out to try to splat her that time. She had to wonder if it was the fact that he was in such a bad mood or the fact that he remembered the last time that someone had splattered her.
“I tried to do it better this time,” George grumbled.
He really wasn’t Christmas fairy material. He thought he had a handle on it this time, how wrong could one man be?
‘Well, you really shouldn’t have kidnapped the witch…’
“Tell me about,” he grumbled.
‘And you really shouldn’t have wound up a bear shifter — you know how they get,’ Jessica berated him.
“Tell me about it,” George grumbled once more.
‘And you really shouldn’t have got in the way of the bear shifter’s fist so many times.’ She giggled.
“You’re telling me, and you can stop now.”
‘But, the mates are together, and right now that’s all that matters.’
“It all came so easy to you…”
‘No, it really didn’t,’ Jessica sighed.
Of course, she’d strutted around the fairy kingdom like she was the bee's knees just because she was the Christmas fairy — but, it was all a big show, one big lie, and, truth be told, she’d probably messed up just as much as George had.
Although, she hadn’t kidnapped any witches.
“Don’t try to make me feel better,” George grumbled.
‘Trust me — I wouldn’t do that,’ she lied.
Jessica did want to make him feel better. She didn’t know why — she didn’t really know how — but, she did feel sorry for George.
“Thanks,” George grumbled again. Then he considered what she’d said. “Does that mean that you did mess up? Or does that mean that you have no intention of making me feel better because you hate me?”
‘George, please don’t try to overthink everything. Your male — enough said.’
“Yep, you’re right…” George bit off his words and rolled his eyes to the snow filled sky.
She’d got him there.
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“Bath!” Evan growled. He even pointed to the tub that was filled with water so that there could be no misunderstanding betwee
n them.
“I’m not getting into a bath with you!” Deborah hissed back.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Evan growled. Then he turned on his heels, strolled out of the room, and slammed the bathroom door behind him.
“That’s…” Deborah bit off the choice words that she really wanted to offer back to him.
She knew that he could hear her through the door just fine, but still, she had her pride. He’d just insulted her, and she might have had the urge to get her own back, but then she thought about what he’d done for her, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Deborah turned toward the bath and sighed. Strangely, another dip into the wet stuff was very tempting.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, but she reached out with her magic and snapped on the lock on the door.
“I said; don’t flatter yourself,” Evan called from outside the door.
Deborah’s mouth opened in shocked surprise. Boy, did she have a list of words that she would like to have handed back to him?
She gave a small squeak of annoyance as she bit down on each and every one of them. Then she turned back toward the bath and started to peel off her wet clothing.
He might have won the battle — but that didn’t mean that he’d won the fight between them.
At that moment in time, she was taking the high road, regrouping and assessing her situation, then and only then, she would decide if she was going to kill the man, or not.
CHAPTER NINE
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Evan heard the thud of the front door closing, and he knew the sound of the feet that stomped across the living room floorboards. The huff as the kid dropped down onto the sofa made him leave his station outside the bathroom door and head into the living room.
There was Marcus with his feet up on the coffee table and a sour look on his face, and he flicked a look at Evan and huffed again.
“Hey, Evan,” Marcus’ downbeat tones ruffled Evan’s bear’s fur.
“You walk through the snow to get here?” Evan growled.