A Shifter for Christmas

by T. S. Joyce

  His deep chuckle reverberated through his chest and right into her back. “I’ll buy you five. I hate thinking you’re mad at me. It’s fuckin’ miserable.” And then he picked up the lyric of the song and sang softly along with the crowd as he swayed them back and forth.

  And this…this moment…was the best moment she’d ever spent at a tree-lighting ceremony. It was a combination of relief and joy and feeling safe in his warm arms.

  “I have something to show you,” he murmured. “You want to get out of here?”

  Leslie laughed thickly. “I thought you would never ask.”

  He slipped his strong hand over her mitten-clad one and led her through the remnants of the crowd toward the parking lot.

  “Leslie!” Oh, God, that was Kimberly’s voice.

  “Just keep walking,” she told Kieran.

  “Leslie, stop!” Mom yelled. The echo of her heels clacking on concrete were grating to her ears.

  “You,” Mom growled out, pointing her red painted claw at Kieran.

  “You nothing,” Dad said, appearing out of the crowd. “Marian, go back to the tree. Our daughter is fine.”

  Leslie had never seen the shade of red that commandeered Mom’s face before. It matched her nails. “Excuse me?”

  This is usually where Dad got annoyed and rolled his eyes and left the situation, but tonight, he narrowed his eyes and stood his ground. “Gregory Potts?” Dad asked Mom. “Really? He’s been married three times and is a womanizer.” He jerked his head to Kieran. “Kieran holds your daughter’s hand and has her back. He makes her smile.”

  “Smiling a lot doesn’t keep a chef in the kitchen, Bert,” Mom growled.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” Leslie said. The family was catching up now, her sisters and their husbands, cousins and aunts, all attracted to the chum in the water, the scandal, the drama. The words had just fallen from her mouth, but they felt right, so she straightened her spine and said them again, stronger. “I can’t do this anymore. I want to like the holidays again, and Kieran helps me do that. The most fun I’ve had this season is the time I spent away from you guys.” She shook her head at herself. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She’d never been brutally honest about her feelings before because she’d always thought her feelings mattered less than other people’s.

  Mom looked equal parts horrified and enraged, and her sisters were smirking at each other.

  “I don’t want to do any more Christmas traditions with you guys this year. I think you’ll be less stressed if I’m not around. And I know I’ll be less stressed, too.”

  She gave an apologetic smile at her Dad, but he didn’t seem angry or even surprised. Just sad.

  “Merry Christmas,” Leslie told them just before she turned and walked away.

  ****

  “Oh, my gosh, I thought we were going to do a mic drop and make a speedy exit,” she punched out through her laughter as he handed her five—yes, a stack of five—salted pretzels.

  “I didn’t know if you liked the cheese sauce so I got some just in case. He handed her little containers of cheese as he climbed up in his truck. “You said you would forgive me if I got you pretzels, and if it’s that easy to get out of a fight, I’m getting the lady some salted forgiveness bread.”

  She tossed her head back and laughed as he started the truck. “We really did just mic drop Christmas.” Her heart was still going a mile a minute.

  “You did. It was glorious. You’re a new woman, Leslie. She don’t take no shit!” He pulled out of the parking spot and then rested his hand on her thigh as he drove them through town.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as they drove straight out of Missoula.

  “To Florence.”

  “Are you going to show me your house?” she asked, excited.

  “Yep, and let you meet Burke. He’s a dipshit, but he’s all the family I’ve got.”

  The drive was only twenty-five minutes from the tree-lighting ceremony, and it was a pretty one at that. And when they pulled up to his home, she was awestruck. Whatever she’d expected Kieran’s house to look like, this wasn’t it.

  They drove down a long, snowy driveway and pulled to a stop in front of a sprawling Victorian home with a wraparound front porch. The house was painted light blue with white trim.

  “This is your house?” she asked, staring out the front window. The woods surrounding it were like a snow-covered holiday wonderland.

  “Yep, this is the house I grew up in, and now it’s mine.”

  She got out of the truck, followed him up the porch stairs, and then across the pristine porch. Firewood was stacked on one side of the door, and a pair of work boots on the other. She took her snow boots off and set them carefully by his. He was grinning when she stood up to go inside.

  “That was cute. You don’t have to take off your shoes when you come in anymore.”

  “So you’re saying you will invite me over again?”

  He flipped on a light switch and said, “You can come over whenever you want.”

  Inside, it was all dark wood floors and a country kitchen painted in grays and whites. The walls were wooden like the inside of a log cabin.

  She ran her finger along the knotty wood of an old antique dining table. The furniture was all different and eclectic, but fit together perfectly in the space. “I love the furniture in here.”

  “It’s not new or fancy. My mom used to go to garage sales and estate sales and find ‘treasures.’ That’s what she called them. I don’t think she ever bought a piece of furniture new.”

  “I love that,” she whispered reverently. “You don’t have any Christmas decorations,” she pointed out. “Like when she was alive.”

  He leaned his back against the kitchen island and cocked his head. “I haven’t decorated since they passed.”

  “Well…” She looked around and could see all the possibilities. “We could do it as a present for her each year. Decorating could be a nod to her.”

  Emotion swam in his eyes. “I never thought of that before.”

  “Where did the tree used to go?”

  He pointed to the corner by the stone fireplace where an old recliner now sat.

  She popped the last bite of a pretzel in her mouth. “I mean, you have like eight hundred pine trees outside.”

  His smile was so slow, so handsome, and so perfect. Why? Because she’d caused it. He gave her those smiles, and that was her gift. They made her happy and loosened the tight spots in her chest.

  He sauntered up to her, kissed her on her lips, and then swatted her butt. “Go put your boots back on. I’ll get the decorations and a saw from the shed.”

  “Eeeeee!” she squeaked out, jumping up and down. “Tonight is the best night!”

  And as she watched him jog across the wintery yard toward a red barn on the tree line, she leaned against the open doorway and drank in the moment. The day had started off so bad because it was without him, and now she’d never felt happier. Because she was with him. Kieran Dunne was magic. No one could convince her otherwise.

  An old, lifted Bronco on huge tires came barreling down the road and parked behind Kieran’s truck. A man with familiar features hopped down from behind the wheel. He had blond hair like Kieran’s and the same high cheekbones and gold eyes.

  “I’m assuming you’re Burke,” she called out, jogging down the porch stairs.

  “I’m assuming you’re the human my brother can’t stay away from.” His smile even looked like his brother’s. Maybe they were twins.

  He shook her hand and sniffed the wind, looked out toward the barn. “What’s he doing?”

  “Getting Christmas decorations.”

  “Oh shit, really?” His eyebrows were nearly to his hairline. “You broke him.”

  “I what?”

  “I never in a million years thought he would be into the holidays again. Before you came along, he was fucking boring.”

  “At least I’m not a jackass!” Kieran’s voice e
choed through the clearing.

  She cracked up and zipped her jacket to her chin, followed behind Burke as he led her to the barn, her boots crunching through the snow. She carried one box back, but the boys each had four stacked up in their arms and acted like the weight wasn’t even a burden. Okay, Otter Brothers, you’re a little much with your animal strength.

  The night was fun. Easy. Burke was an easy talker with a quick wit, and he and Kieran ribbed each other constantly, but it wasn’t like the insults in her family. They were always joking and with smiles and they laughed a lot. She could tell they loved each other, and that’s how it should be.

  And when they teased her for almost knocking over the tree they cut down when she fell into it, or her bright pink leggings that clashed with the red and green theme of the living room, there was no sting behind the jokes. Just fun.

  At the end of the night, when Burke loaded back into his Bronco and said his goodbyes, Leslie let off a sigh and rested her head against the doorway as she watched him drive away.

  Kieran stood at the edge of the porch, arms locked on the railing, also watching his brother leave. When he turned to her, his eyes softened and he murmured, “Your smile is back.”

  “When did it leave?” she asked.

  He closed the distance between them and cupped her cheeks, lifted her gaze to his. “When I made it go away. I watched you tonight. I saw the faraway look on your face when people talked to you at the tree lighting. I saw sadness there, and it wasn’t your family who did that to you this time. It was me, wasn’t it?”

  She nodded. “It was nice having someone on my team. I’d never had that before, and going back to being alone felt really heavy.”

  He brushed his thumbs across her cheeks. “I don’t want you to feel alone anymore, but there is something I have to tell you.” He leaned in and kissed her, then eased back and rested his forehead against hers. “Something that will change things for you and me.”

  “You can tell me anything. I’m understanding. What is it? Have you been married before?”

  “No.”

  “You have a girlfriend?”

  “What? No!”

  She gasped. “You killed your parents.”

  “Oh, my God, what is happening right now? No, it’s nothing like that.”

  “My imagination is very big, Kieran. Just tell me before I unleash the thirty other theories my brain can come up with in the next one point five minutes.”

  “Well…shit.” He looked out over the yard as if searching for the right words. His cheeks were flushed, and that soft sound in his throat rattled through him again.

  “My animal doesn’t want me to do this,” he said low.

  “Do what?”

  “Show you what I really am.” He slid bright gold eyes to hers. “He doesn’t want to scare you away.”

  “Otters are cute—”

  “I lied.”

  She pressed her hand over his pounding heart, but he flinched back. “Fuck, I lied to you, Leslie, and it wasn’t some little thing.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t understand. She didn’t understand. “What lie?”

  “Promise you won’t run. You can’t. I don’t like when things run from me.”

  She shook her head, baffled. He was backing down the stairs and into the yard, and she followed him, palms out, feeling the space between them so deeply. She didn’t like it. “Kieran why would I ever run?”

  He peeled off his shirt and, holy shit. He had the perfect six-pack, defined pecs and hip muscles, broad shoulders that curved appealingly with their strength. That’s not what shocked her, though. There were long scars across his skin. Claw marks, healed and silver with age.

  “I’m sorry,” he uttered as he unfastened his belt and kicked out of his boots. “Don’t run.”

  “Kieran,” she uttered as chills lifted the hairs on the back of her neck. Something was wrong. Something wasn’t making sense.

  What Burke had said about breaking him? She didn’t break him. The animal did. His bones broke so fast the clearing filled with the echo of his shattering body. And, in moments, he pitched forward and landed on all four monstrous paws.

  The massive lion lifted his face to hers. Only ten feet of snow separated them.

  His mane was full and only a shade darker than his tawny coat. His claws were extended, and when he curled his lips back, he exposed canines that were two inches long and sharp as razors.

  “Kieran?” she asked again, tears streaming down her face.

  Don’t run. He told you not to run.

  But the beast was so big, so dangerous, so terrifying. And right there in his face were Kieran’s eyes. Her Kieran wasn’t her Kieran anymore. She hadn’t known him at all.

  She clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle her sobbing. She had asked for no predator shifters.

  The fierceness left his twisted face, and his lips relaxed back over his sharp teeth. Slowly, the giant cat backed away, leaving pawprints in the snow the size of her face.

  Anger and fear swirled inside of her. This was a huge lie. She knew predator shifters had red flags on their names. They had rules that kept them from mixing with the human population.

  No. No, no, no, she’d found her Prince Charming. She’d found someone who understood her. She’d found a teammate who had her back, someone who wasn’t annoyed by her, but was entertained and cared about her instead.

  Her face crumpled, and she backed up the stairs, but her boot hooked on the top stair and she fell back and slammed her tailbone onto the porch.

  The lion lurched forward, stopped himself, and paced just on the edge of the porch light, glowing eyes on her.

  This was the man she’d fallen in love with.

  There were rules.

  Scrambling up, Leslie clenched her teeth against the weak noises in her throat and then backed into the house, closed the door behind her with a soft, lonely-sounding click.

  Outside, the roar of the lion filled the house, filled the woods, filled her soul.

  Kieran.

  Something that will change things for you and me.

  Sniffling, she bolted for her purse just as the second roar sounded. With fumbling fingers, she found her phone and typed into the search engine rules for lion shifters.

  What she found there had her sinking onto the floor, pressing her back to the door.

  Lion shifters are much stronger than all other shifters and are sometimes incapable of realizing that strength. In an attempt to keep the human population safe, no lion shifter is allowed to pair up with a human. If a human is chosen as a mate, he or she must be Turned and registered immediately. Lion shifters are only allowed to Turn one human in their lifetime, and that must be in correlation with choosing a mate. If loss of life occurs during Turning, the shifter will be prosecuted for murder in the human courts.

  Human population safe…

  Turn one in a lifetime…

  Loss of life…

  Leslie dropped her phone onto the floor and made her way down the hallway and into the bathroom. She just…lost herself to the tears. She pulled her jacket sleeves up over her hands and buried her face in the fabric, curled in on herself on the floor, and let her heart break.

  Because that’s what a girl had to do sometimes. They had to have a bad day, let their heart break, and then learn to stand up on their own again.

  Today was the bad day. Oh, it had started bad, turned good, but now was rough again.

  No wonder he’d backed off after he’d kissed her.

  Otter shifters wouldn’t have rules. They were harmless, but Kieran wasn’t harmless. He was the most powerful kind of shifter in existence. She’d placed the ad to get through the holidays, but now everything had gotten so messed up.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  The sound was so soft, at first she thought she’d imagined it.

  Knock, knock.

  She sniffed and let off a shuddering breath, then stood and opened the door. Kieran stood across the hallway,
as far from her as he could get. He had on his jeans, but no shoes, no shirt, and he was shivering. He stared down at her boots, wouldn’t meet her gaze, and something about that broke her heart even more.

  He must’ve endured very hard times in his life, trying to manage the animal inside of him.

  “I know,” he said hoarsely.

  “You know what?” she whispered.

  “I know this ruined us. I could see it on your face. Iiiii…” he drawled out, then shook his head and clamped his lips closed.

  “You what?”

  “I want to make you smile, but maybe I’m not the man who can do that.”

  He sat down in the hallway, his shoulder blades pressed against the wall, his legs bent, elbows resting on his knees. “You don’t have to sit close.”

  She considered it—sitting on the other side of the bathroom, far away from him. She did consider it, but it didn’t feel right. He was still Kieran. At least right now, in his human skin, he was Kieran. So she sat down in the doorway.

  “Who made the scars?” she asked.

  “Burke. My mom and dad.” He shrugged. “Scars are normal in my world. From play fighting or real fights. From living in a pride with four dominant personalities. I don’t even Change with Burke anymore. Less bloodshed that way.

  “I don’t know your world,” she said softly.

  “No one does but lions. It’s easier for humans to go about their lives like the bad parts of ours don’t exist. So we keep quiet. We buy our own woods and Change when no one is looking, and then we go to our nine-to-five jobs like we’re just the same as everyone else. But the truth is…I’m not like the people of this town. And if we…”

  “Stayed together?”

  “If we stayed together and saw where this went, you would no longer be like the people in this town either.”

  She tried to imagine it—her eyes in a lioness’s face. Her eyes changing colors at the Wilson family parties and a growl in her throat, but it wasn’t an easy thing to wrap a mind around.

  She was just a pottery maker in a tiny house with a simple life. Or she had been before Kieran had answered her ad.

  “I said no predator shifters in my ad.”