by Zoe Chant
Chase dropped the other glass.
“Triplets?” Connie squawked.
“I may have slightly overdone it,” Hugh admitted.
“Triplets.” Hugh’s mother shook her head in amusement. “Well, it seems Hugh could have a lucrative career as a fertility consultant, should he ever tire of being a paramedic.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath on that one,” Ivy said, smiling. “He loves what he does too much to ever give up Alpha Team. Just look at them.”
Across the room, the firefighters of Alpha Team were gathered at their usual corner booth. Broad-shouldered Dai, so gentle and soft-spoken despite the fiery dragon in his soul. Kind-hearted Griff, laughing as his three boys clambered all over him. Swift Chase, his black eyes lit up with exuberant joy. Towering John Doe, solemn and severe but with a gleam of wry humor hidden under his knightly discipline. Ash, quiet and contained, at the heart of the group and yet somehow still apart.
And Hugh, her Hugh. He sat in their midst, relaxed and at ease. He didn’t flinch away now from the press of Dai’s elbow against his, or Chase’s open, spontaneous backslaps. He might still growl and glare at his friends, but his sharp-tongued banter concealed true, brotherly love. Ivy knew he would have died for any one of them, as they would for him.
Lady Hereford’s face softened as she watched the group. “I cannot tell you how much it means to me to see that he has found a true home here. Much as I might selfishly wish for him to come back to the estate.” She hesitated, casting Ivy a sidelong glance. “Though he will inherit one day, you realize.”
“I know. We’ll deal with that when it happens. But for now, we’re staying in Brighton.” Ivy made a face. “Which means I really need to work out what I’m going to do. Hugh’s not that happy with me continuing to scrub toilets.”
“I had a suggestion on that, if you would indulge me,” Lady Hereford said, sounding uncharacteristically tentative. “I was talking earlier with Hope’s delightful young friend Betty. What she told me of Gaze’s charity piqued my interest. I would very much like to start a new organization, with similar aims. Wyverns and hellhounds aren’t the only ones who face discrimination from other shifters.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Ivy said warmly. “I don’t want vulnerable shifter kids like Betty to get scooped up by some other crime boss now that Gaze is out of the picture. So you want me to find you some contacts to get started?”
“No.” Lady Hereford took a sip of her mulled wine. “I was hoping that you would run it.”
Ivy stared at her, slack-jawed. “Me? I don’t know the first thing about running a charity!”
“I can teach you that. But I can’t teach anyone else what you already know. You have the experience of what it’s like to grow up outcast from shifter society. And who better than a wyvern to mentor surly, defensive teens who’ve been taught to think of themselves as monsters?” Lady Hereford leaned forward, touching the back of Ivy’s hand. “Think about it, won’t you?”
Ivy’s heart beat faster as she began to imagine the possibilities. Not a job done at night, solitary and invisible, but a real career helping people. Helping people like herself.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll need to talk it over with Hugh, though.”
“Of course,” said Lady Hereford. “You are mates, after all.”
Ivy noticed the way her voice dropped a little on the word ‘mates.’ A slight sadness passed across Lady Hereford’s usually serene face, but Ivy didn’t think it was anything to do with her and Hugh.
“So where’s the Earl?” she asked, guessing at the real reason for Lady Hereford’s sudden melancholy. “I thought you were both going to come down for Christmas.”
“Oh, he’s here, upstairs in the private room,” Lady Hereford reassured her. “I’m sure he’d be delighted if you went up to share a drink with him later. But…well, tonight is a party for shifters and their families. He escorted me here, but felt it best to stay away from the festivities himself.”
Ivy couldn’t blame the Earl for that. The loss of his unicorn was old, but it was still deeply disconcerting for any shifter to see that grotesque scar in his soul. And perhaps it was also difficult for the Earl to be around people who still had their own animals.
“Uh…is it going to be hard for him to be around Hugh tomorrow?” Ivy asked, belatedly realizing that this might be a more fraught family Christmas than she’d thought.
“No,” Lady Hereford said, without hesitation. “It meant more to him than you can imagine—certainly more than he’ll ever say—that Hugh invited us both. Thank you for finally telling Hugh the truth about his father, by the way.”
Ivy shrugged. “It just didn’t feel right to keep that secret from him anymore. I’m glad that he and Hugh might finally be able to mend some fences. But are you sure it doesn’t upset him that Hugh’s got his unicorn back, when he doesn’t himself?”
Lady Hereford shook her head firmly. “He’s overjoyed that Hugh regained his animal. You don’t need to worry about that.”
Despite Hugh’s mother’s words, there was a crease in her brow that spoke of some hidden concern. But if it wasn’t about her husband…what could it be?
A flash of insight came to her. “Is it hard for you to be around Hugh now?”
Lady Hereford dropped her gaze, toying with her wineglass. “I am happy for him, of course. But now that we know a true mate’s love can restore a unicorn…well. I have to think about what that means for me and my husband.”
Ivy sucked in her breath. She’s assumed that Hugh’s parents would finally be able to be together fully, as husband and wife, now that Hugh was no longer sensitive to sexual activity. But it seemed her own happiness had only made his parents’ situation worse.
“The Earl doesn’t want to leave you, does he?” she asked, dismayed and guilty.
“Oh, no.” Lady Hereford smiled sadly. “His honor would never allow it. He would never abandon me, nor even breathe a word of his true feelings. But I know how much your animals mean to you shifters. I know how he still walks the house in the small hours of the morning, unconsciously searching for something he lost long ago. I love him too much to allow him to live in such pain. I think you understand.”
Ivy did. Her heart bled to think of Hugh’s kind mother being in a similar impossible position.
“Are you sure you aren’t his true mate?” she asked. “I mean, you could be, right? Maybe he just wouldn’t know, not being a shifter anymore.”
Lady Hereford’s slim shoulders rose and fell in a sigh. “I cannot cling to that false hope. We were…intimate, before Hugh was born. And his unicorn never came back. No. I am not his true mate.”
A slight cough made them both look round. Rose, who was serving drinks behind the bar, had drifted nearer during the conversation. The middle-aged pub owner regarded them both thoughtfully as she pulled a pint of beer.
“Pardon me,” Rose said, “but I couldn’t help overhearing. I can assure you, your husband very much is your true mate.”
Lady Hereford’s expression iced over a little, as if she was suspecting some sort of scam. “May I ask how you are so certain?”
“I’m a swan shifter,” Rose said, deftly sliding the full pint down the bar. “I can sense mate bonds.”
The crease between Lady Hereford’s eyebrows deepened. “Your kind are renowned for always being able to find their true mates. I know that swans go on a quest when they reach adulthood, with their inner animal leading them unerringly to their other half. But as far as I am aware, swans can only sense the location of their own true mate, not other people’s.”
An old sadness shadowed Rose’s calm eyes. “I’m not like other swans. When I was younger, I could sense my true mate calling to me. I even set off on my quest to find him. But one day, in the middle of my journey, I woke up and couldn’t feel him anymore. Perhaps my mate died before I could meet him. Anyway, for some reason losing my own heart’s desire made me sensitive to other people’s hear
ts. So now I help other people find their mates. And I am absolutely certain that your mate is right upstairs at this very minute.”
A bright hope kindled in Lady Hereford’s face…and swiftly died. “But in that case, I should have brought back his unicorn on our wedding day.”
“But you weren’t truly open to each other then!” Ivy exclaimed, remembering her first ever conversation with the Earl. “Because he never told you about his unicorn, not until Hugh’s powers started developing. Even though he loved you, he was holding back, not trusting you fully with his secrets. You didn’t even know there was something you could be doing. But now you do!”
Lady Hereford caught her breath. “Do you—do you truly think that a non-shifter could do what you did?”
Doesn’t take claws or wings. Just determination, her wyvern commented. Its jaw dropped in a serpentine smile. And our mate didn’t get his stubbornness from his sire.
“My wyvern says you can do it,” Ivy told Hugh’s mother. “You can restore the Earl’s unicorn, Lady Hereford!”
Rose’s mouth twitched up. “This seems an excellent time to mention that there’s a guest room upstairs. With a bed. And a lock on the door.”
Lady Hereford blushed like a schoolgirl. Draining the rest of her wine in one swallow, she stood up. With a parting nod, she hastened through the crowd, heading for the back stairs.
Rose let out a deep, satisfied sigh. “I do love being able to set people on the right path.”
“I’m sorry about your mate, though,” Ivy said, feeling a twinge of pity. “Maybe there’s hope for you too, somehow.”
“Ah, well.” Rose went back to making drinks. “Not everyone gets the fairytale.”
“I’ve never believed in fairytales.” Ivy shrugged. “Still don’t. I think if you want a happy ending, you have to make it yourself.”
The swan shifter’s busy hands stilled. Her head raised, but it wasn’t to look at Ivy. Her thoughtful gaze was turned on the corner where Alpha Team still sat, deep in conversation.
“Yes,” Rose said softly, her eyes resting on Ash. “Maybe you’re right.”
Thank you for a Christmas miracle. Perhaps Hugh knows a good place to shift near the city?
Hugh, who was busy lighting the log fire in the grate, cast her an inquiring glance over his shoulder. “Good news?”
“Just a text from your mother,” Ivy said, trying to sound casual. “They’re looking forward to coming over later. And your father wants to go out for a run after dinner.”
Hugh’s eyebrows drew down. “My father hates jogging. Come to think of it, so do I. What the devil is he thinking? Some sort of ghastly father-son bonding experience?”
“Something like that.” It was hard to keep a straight face. “Come on, humor him. He’s trying to make up for lost time.”
Hugh snorted, going back to messing around with matches. “If he tries to drag me out fishing, I’m pushing him overboard. Come on, you bastard thing, light.”
“You’re not very good at that,” Hope observed cheerfully, from under her blanket of cats. Most of Hugh’s whole horde was piled onto her lap, squabbling over the last bits of buttery croissant from breakfast.
“I put out fires, not start them,” Hugh growled. “Where’s Ash when you need him?”
“Well, hurry up.” Scattering cats, Hope wheeled closer to the glittering Christmas tree dominating their lounge. “I want to do presents!”
“I thought you were seventeen, not seven.” Ivy slipped her phone back into her pocket. “But okay. You want to unwrap yours first?”
To her surprise, Hope shook her head. “Nope. I want to give you your one from me first.”
“Wait,” Hugh said. Abandoning his futile fire-making efforts, he rose, turning. “I don’t want to miss this. I did help you work on it, after all.”
That slightly eased Ivy’s fears of being presented with some Pinterest disaster. She knelt down next to the Christmas tree, reaching for the pile of wrapped presents. “Okay, which one is it?”
“Hang on.” Hope pushed Mr. Mittens off her lap, standing up. “I’ll get it for you.”
Hope did it so casually, it took Ivy a second to even register what her sister had just done. Ivy froze, staring in stunned disbelief at Hope’s bare toes, wiggling on the carpet. Slowly, her gaze tracked up, past her sister’s straight knees, up, up, to her wide, brilliant grin.
“You can walk,” Ivy whispered. She leaped to her own feet, an answering smile splitting her own face. “You can walk!”
She nearly threw her arms around her sister in pure joy—but jerked back at the last minute. Even though she could control her venom now, she still hadn’t dared to touch Hope. Her sister was still deathly sensitive to wyvern venom, after all. It wasn’t worth taking the risk.
She turned to hug Hugh instead, squeezing his torso tight. “You said you didn’t think you’d be able to reverse her paralysis, even after you neutralized the venom!”
“I kinda made him say that,” Hope said. She took a step forward with a dramatic flourish, like a magician revealing a trick. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“It’s the best surprise ever,” Ivy said fervently. “The best Christmas present ever.”
Hope’s grin widened even further. “Oh, this isn’t your Christmas present.”
Without a hint of weakness, she strode forward. Before Ivy knew what was happening, Hope’s strong arms encircled her from behind.
“This is your Christmas present,” Hope whispered in her ear, her cheek warm against Ivy’s.
Stunned, still with her own arms around Hugh, Ivy looked up into his face. He smiled down at her, his blue eyes soft and gentle.
“I also healed her sensitivity,” he said. “She’s not allergic to your venom anymore.”
Slowly, she released her mate. And, for the first time in her entire life, she turned around and hugged her sister.
“Okay,” Ivy said, when she could finally speak through her tears. “Now I feel kinda terrible that I only got you a laptop.”
Hope let out a shriek that nearly split Ivy’s eardrum. “You didn’t! Oh my God, thank you thank you thank you! Where is it?”
Hugh laughed as Hope flung herself at the presents under the tree, sorting eagerly through them. “And so the true spirit of Christmas appears at last. Well, before we descend into rampant consumerism, I want to—”
“No,” Hope interrupted, not looking up from unwrapping her present. “Not yet. Ivy, give Hugh his present next.”
Even though she’d prepared for this, Ivy’s heart skipped a beat. Hugh’s present felt hot as a coal in the back pocket of her jeans. She swallowed, mouth dry.
“I, uh,” she stammered. “Didn’t really know what to get you.”
Hugh cocked his head, looking a little baffled. From the sudden surge of worry down the mate bond, she knew he must have sensed her own tension.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said. “You’ve already given me everything.”
Damn it, she’d practiced this. But all her carefully planned words had flown out of her head. All she could do was sink to one knee, pulling the small velvet box out of her pocket.
“Well, I was hoping you might let me give you this too,” she said, showing him the simple silver ring inside. “Hugh, will you marry me?”
For a second, he just stared down at her, looking completely nonplussed.
Then he swore, which was not entirely the reaction she’d been hoping for.
“Oh, hellfire and damnation,” he said, pulling a matching velvet box out of his back pocket. “You beat me to it.”
Ivy stared at the emerald and diamond band. Then she looked over her shoulder at Hope, who’d fallen into helpless hysterics amidst crumpled wrapping paper.
“Did you know about this?” she asked her sister.
Hope nodded, shaking with hiccuping laughter. “He swore me to secrecy too. You both planned beautiful speeches, by the way. Pity neither of you actually remembered them.
”
“Well, apparently we can just ask you to recite them for us later,” Hugh said. He still looked somewhat exasperated, but through it shone deep, profound joy. “Ivy, may I assume this means that your answer is yes?”
“If yours is,” Ivy said, happy tears streaming down her face again.
She slid the silver ring onto his finger, as he put the emerald one on hers. She turned her hand, dazzled by the way the brilliant green stone sparkled in the Christmas lights.
“Wow, I’m really being outdone in the present stakes,” she said weakly. “I’m gonna have to go all out next year.”
Hugh tilted her chin up with one finger. “Like I said,” he breathed, bending down to her, “you’ve already given me everything.”
“Ugh,” Hope called as they kissed. “Get a room.”
Ivy flipped off her sister behind Hugh’s back. She closed her eyes, her whole body melting against his at the miracle of his mouth on hers. No matter how long she lived, she would never, ever take that simple touch for granted.
“Ten more seconds and I start Instagramming this,” Hope announced. “Come on, guys. I want to give Hugh my present.”
Ivy broke off, reluctantly. “Brace yourself, Hugh. She’s a terror with a hot glue gun and glitter.”
“Well, I didn’t have time to make anything this year, what with killer basilisks and nearly dying and then having to learn how to walk. Also, I’m very broke.” Hope bounced to her feet, clutching her new laptop possessively to her chest. “So instead I will give you the greatest gift of all.”
Hugh’s eyebrow rose. “Oh?”
“Time,” Hope said beatifically. “In particular, time without me. I’m gonna go to Betty’s for the rest of the morning. By my reckoning, that gives you four hours alone before Hugh’s parents arrive. I’m sure you’ll find something to do.”
Hugh chuckled, his arms tightening around Ivy’s waist. “I’m sure we will. You want a lift?”
“Nope,” Hope said, with deep satisfaction. “I’ll walk.”
With a cheery wave, she departed, a hopeful line of cats following her out. Ivy nestled against Hugh’s chest, sliding one finger teasingly between his shirt buttons.