by Abigail Owen
“The hell I was.” Gabe was silent for a moment. “You want a drink?”
“Hell, yeah.”
Lachlan stood over the graves of his mother and sisters. Gabe appeared from behind him and handed him a bottle.
“They’re all dead.” Lachlan raised the bottle to his mouth and swallowed the Scotch. Single malt. Warm and peaty. He hadn’t drunk scotch since he’d left Scotland—it raised too many memories. When he’d left, he’d turned his back on everything that had reminded him of his homeland. It was the only way he had coped with the loss of everything that he loved. Everything that mattered to him. “They’re dead. I’m dead. Everyone’s dead.”
“I’m not dead,” Gabe said, taking a swig from his own bottle.
“That might not last.”
“Hah. You couldn’t take me back then. You couldn’t now.”
“I probably could. If I could be bothered.”
“You know your problem,” Gabe said.
“I have a problem?”
“Yeah. You always did think the whole universe revolved around you. Everyone lost people back then. Stop thinking you’re so goddamn special.”
“You mean the world doesn’t revolve around me?”
“Hah.” Gabe rook another swallow. “So the bonnie lassie from tonight. She vanished. Is she dead as well?”
“Nope. She’s a witch.”
“A witch? Are they even a thing? I thought they were like fairytale stuff.”
Lachlan studied his brother in amazement. Where had he been for the last three hundred years? “You’re a goddamn werewolf. I’m a fucking vampire. Why wouldn’t witches be a thing. Goddamn ignorant dogs.”
“Hey, just because we like to keep to ourselves doesn’t make us ignorant. Just particular about who we spend time with. So, the witch—you care about her?”
Lachlan gave him a sharp look. “Why would you ask that?”
“The sappy way you were looking at her. The fact that you were ready to give away your life for hers.” He studied him for a moment. “It won’t hurt to accept that you care about her.”
Lachlan swallowed the last of the scotch. He’d loosened his control and he could feel the alcohol like a buzz in his brain. “Might not hurt me. Probably kill her. I don’t have a good track record.”
“Jesus. Here we go again. Mr. Special. You’re just too much of a coward to take the chance.”
“And you’re happily married with a houseful of bairns are you?”
“No. But I haven’t found the right woman yet. I will. I’m not a closed off miserable bastard like you. I presume she saw that in you and told you to fuck off.”
“She asked me to go with her. She said she needed me.”
“And you did the honorable thing and told her to go. Stupid bastard.”
Was he a stupid bastard? He felt doubts coalescing into a big, hard lump. “Besides, I’m too old.”
Gabe looked him up and down. “You don’t look a day over twenty-two. It’s true. You haven’t aged at all. Mentally or physically. You need to grow up.”
Actually, he needed to change the subject. “What happened to you? At Culloden.”
“When the battle was over, the pack came. They feasted. I was close to death. I’d already seen you walk away. They killed most of the dying but a few of us they kept alive. I didn’t care at that point. Christ, it hurt. So fucking badly. Like I was on fire from inside.” He shrugged. “The past. I’m over it.”
“Except you don’t like vampires.”
“The wolf that changed me was an evil bastard. Used to pimp us out to the vampires. Sell our blood.” He cast Lachlan a sideways glance. “I know vamps like wereblood so don’t be getting any ideas.”
Lachlan raised his upper lip to show the tip of his fang and licked his lips. Grinned.
“Never going to happen. Anyway I killed him in the end and took over the pack. Then killed the head vamp because he was an evil bastard as well.”
“There’s a darkness inside us.” Lachlan shrugged. “It’s closer to the surface in some. Will you join the Council?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good.” That was all he could really ask.
“Will you stop being a coward and go after your little witch? Or at least accept that you’re afraid for yourself not for her. Afraid you’ll lose her. Like you think you lost everyone else. You know she liked you as well. It was totally obvious.”
He had a flashback to the feel of her, warm, and soft, and giving. The taste of her—sweet, and the raw power in her blood. The look in her eyes when she’d told him she needed him.
In that moment he realized he didn’t want her to need him. He wanted her to love him.
And that was seriously scary stuff.
He’d never had a chance to grow up. She was right, he’d been emotionally stunted with no chance to evolve. His whole life had been about surviving, fighting, staying alive. Then he’d been changed, and he’d never thought love was an option.
Vampires didn’t do love.
Except his sire, Darius, had found love. With Lola’s sister.
God, he’d been so stupid. “I have to go find her,” he said.
“You should probably put some clothes on first. I’ve got just the thing. Time to turn back the clocks. Find the man you should have been. Make your ma proud of you.”
He wasn’t sure that was possible. She’d been a devout Christian; she was probably turning in her grave. But he wasn’t evil. Even a vampire could choose what he wanted to be.
He was going to show Lola that he could be the sort of man who wouldn’t walk away. He was going to offer himself for Christmas.
But maybe he should take along something else to sweeten the deal.
“I need a puppy.”
15
Christmas Present…
Lola sniveled and swiped her hand across the back of her face.
They were all at the castle. She couldn’t believe it.
Regan and Caleb. Darius and Gina. Their daughter Raven and her husband Kael, the head of the Council. And Catrin.
They’d been planning to come all along. A big surprise.
And there was a tree in the great hall, that twinkled with lights and baubles. And streamers festooned the walls. A huge log burning in the grate.
“Do you really think we’d leave you alone for Christmas?” Regan asked. “We’re your family. We love you.”
She’d always known that. Sometimes they just weren’t very good at showing it. But she’d been an idiot. Wallowing in self-pity because they’d abandoned her in the wilds of Scotland. And terrified because she was fixating on a stupid miserable bloodsucking vampire who hardly knew she existed and saw her as nothing more than a duty—a painful one at that—and a quick fuck. And who was the least likely candidate for a kiss under the mistletoe she had ever come across.
Cold and cruel and unfeeling.
Except he wasn’t. He was just screwed up. Like she was.
Scared of letting anyone close because then you might lose them.
And he’d lost so many.
She sniveled some more, and Regan frowned. “I thought you’d be…happier.”
“I am. These are happy tears. I’m so pleased to see you all.”
“Hmm.” Regan took a step back and studied her. “What are you wearing?” Her eyes narrowed on Lola’s throat. “And what’s that mark on your neck?” She peered closer. “Jesus, no. Not the goddamn vampire. I knew it was a mistake sending you here. If he hurt you, I’ll kill him.”
“He hasn’t hurt me.” Just broken my heart. She’d realized something on the sleigh ride here—she didn’t need him after all. She was quite strong enough on her own.
But she wanted him desperately. And she suspected she loved him. Which was totally stupid.
“Come on, baby sister. Make my day. Tell me he bit you by force and you turned him into a toad.”
She shook her head.
“So where is he?” Regan asked. “I m
ight turn him into a toad myself.”
“Don’t turn him into anything. And you don’t have to worry. He doesn’t want me. He told me to go home. He said he was the kiss of death.” She rubbed her eyes. Goddamn him for being such a coward. He wanted her. She knew he did. She’d seen it in his eyes.
But he’d lost so much.
Maybe she had to be brave enough for both of them.
“Sorry,” she said to Regan. “There’s something I need to do.” She ran toward the doors, threw them open and skidded to a halt. The mournful sound of bagpipes filled the air.
A man strode across the flag stoned floor. Tall, broad at the shoulder, a green and red plaid kilt swinging from his lean hips. His dark red hair pulled back in a ponytail, showing the lean handsome lines of his face.
She swooned.
Then she took a slow step forward. Maybe this was some sort of vision—a vision of Christmas present. What it could have been. He wasn’t real.
But he looked real. As did the squirming animal in his arms. He had stopped as well. Eyes widening as he took in the room full of people behind her. Her family could be a little…intimidating. Then he stepped forward. He held out the puppy to her, and she took it from him. It was huge—she nearly went down under the weight—and gray and fluffy, with yellow eyes.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I wanted to get you a puppy, but he was all we could come up with quickly.”
“It’s a wolf?”
“Yes, but a real one. Not a werewolf—you don’t have to worry about it shifting or anything.” He sounded nervous. “He’s an orphan, taken in by the pack.”
She placed the puppy gently on the floor, and he looked up at her out of yellow eyes then licked her fingers, and she fell in love. “He’s beautiful. The best Christmas present ever.”
“I wanted to make your dreams come true.” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “And to tell you I was wrong. That you’re not needy. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. And that I’m scared. Scared I’ll lose you. But I want to try.”
“I’m scared too. But I’m tough. And I’m hard to get rid of. And I want to make sure you have lots of wonderful Christmases in the future.”
“Together.”
“Yes.” She patted the puppies head. “All three of us. Happy Christmas, Lachlan.”
Epilogue
She slipped a piece of chicken under the table to Loki. The puppy licked her fingers.
They were all seated around the big banqueting table in the great hall, Lachlan at her side. Lachlan’s foster brother Gabe sat opposite. They had somehow made up.
He winked at her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him. He had tried to chop off Lachlan’s head after all.
But she felt too good to worry right now. She was full up of wonderful food, and sleepy and looking forward to bed.
She had a horrible thought. “You don’t sleep in a coffin, do you?” she whispered. She planned to stay close tonight. She wasn’t letting him out of her sight, but if she was expected to sleep in a coffin, she needed to prepare herself.
He laughed. “Only if you want to.”
“Whew.”
Lachlan was sipping red wine, but not eating. That would take some getting used to. As would his only being awake during the night. She liked the sunshine. But somehow, they would make it work.
At the head of the table, Kael rose to his feet. He held up his glass.
“To the Daughters of the Morrigan,” he said. “May they always protect us and keep us safe.” He took a sip, then grinned. “And perhaps try to refrain from anything that might actually bring about the end of the world. And to family, may we always be together at Christmas.”
They all drank. And she sighed. She’d never had a better Christmas. But there was one thing she needed to make it complete. Rising to her feet, she tugged at his arm. This was one vision she needed to come true.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Just come with me.”
She’d sneaked off earlier and prepared the site—she knew exactly what it should look like. Now, she led him into a corner of the room, around the back of the Christmas tree where they were out of sight. A sprig of mistletoe hung from one of the huge wooden beams. Standing on tip toes, she placed her hands on his shoulders and stared into his beautiful clear green eyes. “Lachlan, will you make all my Christmas dreams come true?”
“Anything, sweetheart.”
And he lowered his head and kissed her.
The End.
About the Author
Nina Croft
Growing up, Nina Croft spent her time dreaming of faraway sunnier places and ponies. When she discovered both, and much more, could be found between the covers of a book, her life changed forever.
Later, she headed south, picked up a husband on the way, and together they discovered a love of travel and a dislike of 9-5 work. Eventually they stumbled upon the small almond farm in Spain they now call home.
Nina spends her days reading, writing and riding under the blue Spanish skies—sunshine and ponies. Proof that dreams can come true if you want them enough.
http://www.ninacroft.com/
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Series by Nina Croft
Daughters of the Morrigan
Storm Lords
The Order
Dark Desires
Beyond Human
Sisters of the Moon
Laws of Segregation
COMING SOON
Malfunction (Dark Desires Origins #1) - 12.9.2019
The Lone Wolf’s Wish
Lisa Kessler
THE LONE WOLF’S WISH
Shane Dodd has lost everything, his Pack, his home, and hope. His only wish this Christmas is to live long enough to exact revenge on the Nero assassin he believes killed his Pack. But when he steps between a bullet and Piper Holland everything changes. The woman dressed as one of Santa's elves is his mate, and she ignites a flame in his heart. But hope and love are dangerous wishes for a lone wolf.
1
Shane
I tugged my coat up, covering the back of my neck from the chill of the winter wind. I’d tracked the jaguar shifter across the country, from my home in Lexington, Kentucky, all the way to Sedona, Arizona. And tonight, I’d finally avenge my Pack.
Since an explosion destroyed the Nero Organization two years ago, the trained jaguar assassins that used to work and live on the compound had started encroaching on my Pack’s territory. For months, we fought them, but the casualties were high. The jaguars had military grade weapons and training to be silent killers. While we had heightened senses of smell and hearing, and our strength far out powered any human man, we couldn’t compete with sniper rifles.
Their final assault on my Pack was cold, calculated, and heartless. I was the last living member of my Pack. Survivor’s guilt suffocated me most days. I should’ve died fighting like my Alpha, but he’d forbidden it. I was the last hope to carry on my Pack’s bloodline. He sent me away as the final fire fight blew holes through the walls and shattered the windows.
Shit. Enough. I’d gnaw off my own damn leg for a single day that I didn’t have to relive hearing that final shot and the deafening silence following it. It was the fucking silence that taunted me late at night.
But it would be over soon. Revenge was the only thing I lived for now.
The full moon rose higher in the sky, calling to the animal side of my soul. I wouldn’t be able to hold off the shift for much longer. My quarry entered the community center. Elvis Presley’s Here Comes Santa Claus wafted out into the cold night air as the door closed behind him. I used to look forward to Christmas, seeing the light in the eyes of our youngest generation of Pack members.
This year it was a cruel reminder of the people I’d lost. I narrowed my eyes and crossed the street. The marquee on the outside of the building read:
Help Santa find homes for shelter pets!
Adoption event 6 – 9 pm
He was get
ting a dog? I raised a brow. Vance Park was one of Nero’s deadliest assassins. I didn’t take him for a guy who would adopt a shelter dog. Didn’t matter.
I kept walking, right past the building, and out of the parking lot, into the vast red rock high desert. Snow dusted the tops of the mountain peaks as I waded through the bushes. I needed to be far from human eyes before the change took over.
Thankfully the night was quiet. The tourists were indoors, hidden from the chill of the winter wind. I sniffed the air before jumping into a shallow ravine.
I’d only been in town for a few days, but I’d caught the scent of another werewolf Pack here. Crossing paths with a Pack as a lone wolf was dicey at best, and I had no interest in joining another wolf Pack.
We’d always viewed lone wolves as trouble. The animal instinct of the wolf inside our spirits ached for the community of a Pack. Werewolves who lived alone, made Packs nervous. As shifters, our safety depended on humans never discovering we existed, and a Pack could police its members.
Lone wolves didn’t have an Alpha keeping them in line. They were a threat.
And now I was one of “them”. I ground my teeth, struggling to hold it together. My sole focus was taking out the bastard that killed my family and my Pack.
A dark spot in my soul whispered a promise of eternal rest once the job was finished. I wasn’t hoping I’d die in the attack, or at least I didn’t think I was, but I wasn’t afraid of it. As long as I took him with me, I could rest peacefully for the first time in months.
I took off my coat and laid it out flat on the ground. Quickly I stripped the rest of my clothes off and dropped them on top. My wolf was eager for Vance’s blood. Losing our Alpha pained the wolf. He was a Pack animal. Being a lone wolf brought no peace, only an empty ache. If I got the chance to end Vance Park as a wolf, both animal and man would be satisfied.