Christmas Wolf Read online

  “I shouldn’t stay.” She shook her head, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders. “If Eithne came home early…”

  “By now the roads are impassible as that snow has been coming down at a good clip for at least the last hour. I doubt your sister will be driving home tonight. She’ll never know you were here.”

  She sighed. “Fine. But I leave first thing in the morning.” Gazing down at the robe he’d given her, she toyed with the end of the wool belt. “I never expected for any of this to happen today, especially me shifting to cat form. I can’t spend the night in your robe.”

  On that, he agreed, but probably not for the same reasons and he didna see the point in mentioning his intentions just yet. “I’m sure I can find you something to wear. My sister-in-law Miranda keeps the main closet stocked with new clothes for members of the pack. Bane often brings the family up here last minute, no bags packed.” He reached for her hand. “Let’s see what we can rustle up for you.”

  He headed toward the closet at the far end of the room. He was not going to leave Greer at the mercy of those wicked sounding sisters of hers. Who knew what they could do to her? He was going to finish his marking of her if it was the last damn thing he ever did. Greer needed him, needed the protection of Bane’s pack, and on that matter, he was not going to back down.

  Chapter Five

  One pair of black leggings and one gray henley later, and Greer was back in the great room, her mind focused on Rhys. She prayed to the gods Eithne and Fran would keep their Christmas Eve timeline promise and not decide to the fetch the man’s soul earlier, because once those two dug their claws into something, they never pulled back.

  She inched across the carpet, her bare feet gliding over the cream-colored wool fibers. Softness caressed her toes. She hadn’t felt this much at home in decades, and never at the cottage. Who would have thought an alpha wolf could be so civilized that he’d fancy a sprawling, upscale cabin that resembled a rustic, luxury spa wrapped in a touch of cozy? God, but her and her sisters lived one screwed up life. They didn’t even own a small welcome mat, let alone a full-sized rug.

  The crackle of flames snapped through the air.

  Her gaze drifted to the middle of the room.

  Rhys stood facing the double-sided marble-mantled fireplace, a black sweater now gracing his well-muscled torso. He’d covered up, including putting on a pair of short, rugged black boots.

  Even fully dressed there was an air about the man that made her preternatural senses crave the beast in him. Her attraction to Rhys was undeniable.

  “Find everything you need?” He didn’t turn around, but kept his head down, his focus apparently locked on the blazing logs.

  “Yes, thank you. Your sister-in-law does a good job of stocking that closet.”

  “As the wife of the pack’s future alpha, Miranda has an important role and she takes it very serious. But she’s also just a thoughtful person.”

  Still Rhys didn’t look her way. She wondered what troubled him. Not that she couldn’t read his mind and find out, but intruding on the man’s private world, even if he was her mate, didn’t feel right.

  A gust of howling wind rattled the windows.

  Greer rubbed her arms. She hated when cold chills came on suddenly. “I can’t imagine surviving out there on a night like this. That wind is brutal.”

  Rhys turned to face her, an empty brandy snifter cradled in his hand. “It is pretty bad, but not the worst I’ve experienced. When my father fell out of grace with the gods, the storm they sent had near apocalyptic proportions, especially the gale-force winds.”

  A sad look settled in his eyes.

  She wanted to take that pain away. Tell him who she really was, how she was hoping to find a way to change his fate. But broaching the subject of her being banshee would probably anger him now and she needed to help him first.

  “I’ve made us some sandwiches,” Rhys said. “With the pack’s unmated wolves often crashing at Wolfsden, Bane keeps enough provisions on hand to feed a whole army. He’s the best damn alpha on the continent. Maybe even in the world.” With his free hand, he grabbed an extra log from the copper bucket next to the fireplace and tossed it into the flames, his moves flawless and graceful.

  Rhys MacGregor exuded the exceptional qualities an alpha needed. He was strong, caring, and above all, protective. He was easily a man who could lead a pack of wolves.

  If only she could convince Fate of that fact.

  Heartache settled in Greer’s soul. If she didn’t change Rhys’s course soon, he’d never get the chance to fulfill his destiny. He might have been adopted by the MacHendries, which meant he could never lead their clan, but something deep inside nagged at her soul. Rhys had a destiny he knew nothing about. Of that she was certain, despite not knowing the specifics of the man’s future.

  “It’s nice and cozy in here now.” She wandered over to the fireplace and stretched her hands out to warm over the roaring flames.

  An aroma of pine, mingled with fine brandy, lingered in the air.

  Rhys looked up. A faint glint of mischief came into his gray eyes. “I thought we needed more than just the stove to heat the place up.”

  All she needed to keep warm was the kilt-wearing Highlander standing next to her. The mere memory of his hands against her body sent a flush to her cheeks. Eithne was so going to kill her.

  “Does Bane use this cabin often?” Any topic of conversation would be better for sparing her morals than the wicked thoughts currently running around inside her head.

  “He brings the immediate family up most weekends and holidays. We’ll have Christmas Day dinner here, then spend the week, returning to Wolfsden on New Year’s Day. The pups really love the game room out back.”

  The thought of a holiday spent with family sounded all warm and fuzzy. All her sisters ever did for Christmas was compare a list of souls they’d each taken the night before. The notion turned her stomach. “You said you came here for a tree topper?”

  “I did.”

  “Have you found it?”

  “Not yet.” Rhys stepped away from the fireplace and grabbed a cork coaster from the stack on the coffee table and set his glass down on top. “I have to go into the attic and look through the decorations. The tree toppers are in their own boxes, as Bane has added to them over the years, depending on the theme for each year’s Christmas Eve Ball.”

  Visions of ballgowns and tartans floated through her mind. A night spent waltzing with her hot Scot would be a dream. “What’s this year’s theme?”

  “Bane decided it was a good time to reflect on the pack’s heritage. So, I took the traditional route and did up the tree in eight-hundred kilt-wearing Highlanders and had chosen a century-old angel for the topper.”

  “It sounds like you made a very good choice. Why do you need a new one?”

  He huffed. “Because a Viking happened.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. Rhys didn’t seem the type of guy to become unhinged over anything, let alone a change to a Christmas ornament. “You’ve lost me.”

  A sigh escaped him. “Bane’s brother-in-law is married to a Norse woman who has a very crude brother, named Vidar. Let’s just say he was at the heart of an incident that took place this afternoon, which resulted in the tree needing a new angel.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you get on with this Vidar.”

  “I don’t. He’s thick headed. But he is sort of family, so I tolerate the man. But by no means are we friends.”

  A fierce Scot with no pack of his own and a hard-headed Viking did not sound like a good combination. “Be thankful Vidar is not one of my wicked sisters. I can’t escape those two.”

  Rhys reached for her hand, cradled her fingers in the warmth of his hold. “I don’t want you going back to the cottage. You’re my mate. We belong together and I can protect you.”

  She wanted nothing more in the world, but their relationship could never be. “Let’s look for that tree topper.”

&nb
sp; He hesitated, held on to her as if he wasn’t going to release her hand, but then did. “You need to eat first. Dinner is waiting in the kitchen.”

  A longing showed in his eyes.

  Wounding the man was not her intention, but as banshee she wasn’t meant to have a mate. Especially not when that soul was the one she was born to take.

  Chapter Six

  Who would have thought a small cat could be so stubborn? Not only did Greer not eat the two sandwiches he’d made her, but the woman flat out refused the notion of moving into Wolfsden Keep with him.

  “That was a lovely meal,” she said walking into the hallway. “Especially the cinnamon honey bun. I really enjoyed that, so thank you.”

  “You hardly ate.”

  “I’m not wolf. One sandwich and one bun was more than enough. Besides, Robbie finished off everything I didn’t eat. So, nothing was wasted. That dog has quite the appetite.”

  “He does. But that is a good thing as he’ll now sleep for a bit. When he’s riled up he can be quite the handful. I don’t think you’ll see much more of him tonight. After a good meal, he likes sleeping on the sofa in the game room.”

  He obviously was going to have to make a few changes in his life where Greer was concerned as he’d never served any of his brothers, or even his wolf shifter sisters-in-law for that matter, any meal less than two sandwiches or multiple servings of a dish. His kind didna nibble like felines did.

  He grabbed a single key from a hook next to the alcove at the end of the hall. “The attic is right up these stairs. Bane keeps it locked so the grandsons can’t get in. They’re a wild bunch, those pups are, but so far they’ve not been able to reach the key. I’m sure the moment those boys do, it will be moved.”

  A bemused smile touched Greer’s lips. “It sounds like your nephews are a handful.”

  “They are, but at the same time they’re so much fun to have around. It was too quiet before they were born. Though we could all do without the small toys we’re forever stepping on. Callen is the worst of us on that, he never fails to buy the boys a damn thing that doesn’t have millions of tiny parts. I can’t tell you how many miniscule car tires or wee battle axes I’ve picked out of the dustpan over the last year.”

  Greer’s smile widened.

  He’d never seen anything as endearing.

  Convincing her she could not go back to her old life was a must. And not only because her sisters sounded vile, but because if he didna finish marking her as his mate, she’d die. Cats cudna survive the brutal bite of a wolf without being completely marked. The deed would have to be done tonight, regardless of what their future held. Greer didna have to stay with him if that was her choice. But he was going to save her life.

  The scent of cedar smacked Rhys’s nose as he reached the top of the stairs and opened the attic door.

  Greer stood one step behind and followed him inside.

  He flicked on the light. “The ornaments are right around this corner.” Stacks of boxes piled on wire shelving filled his view. “The tree toppers are in clear containers with green lids.”

  A hint of lilac danced into his space as Greer brushed by him. She started looking over the boxes at the far end of the aisle. “This is one serious collection of Christmas stuff.”

  He laughed. “You should see the storage containers at Wolfsden. What’s up here is nothing compared to what’s down at the keep. Bane and his brother-in-law, Mortimer, have been doing an archeological dig on the grounds of Mortimer’s old castle. Between the finds they’ve dug up and the family’s penchant for collecting, the pack has amassed quite an assortment of things.”

  His gaze lingered on Greer. She was damn hot in those tight-fitting leggings, not to mention the fact that top didna exactly fit her correctly, its snaps gaping a tad over her full breasts.

  “I found the tree toppers,” Greer said. “But there are at least several dozen containers.”

  He stepped over to the next aisle. “There are a few down this end, too. Look for ones labeled between the years eighteen-forty and nineteen-hundred. A newer angel won’t match the Highlander ornaments.”

  A calming peace filled the room.

  Greer made little noises, a few oohs and aahs as she searched the boxes on the lower shelves. Her enthusiasm for the task went straight to his heart. It sounded almost as if she’d never had a Christmas tree before. “I had planned on coming back early Christmas Eve to put up a small tree in the great room. But since I’m here now, would you mind helping me with that tonight?”

  Greer beamed. “I’d love to, though I’m not sure I’d be much good at it as Eithne doesn’t put up a tree, so I’ve never decorated one.”

  “Ever?”

  She shook her head, her long black hair falling over her shoulders, drawing even more attention to her too tight top.

  “Well, we’ll fix that straight away. A beautiful lass such as yourself should not be deprived of doing up a Christmas tree.”

  “For a wolf, you’re quite sentimental.”

  “That’s the second time I’ve been told so today.”

  “Really? What was the first about?”

  He let out a deep breath. “The Viking. But I dinna care to go into it.”

  Greer offered a sweet smile, her green eyes bright with happiness. “I think you like Vidar, despite saying otherwise.”

  “Bite your tongue, wumman. The man calls a kilt, a skirt. I canna be friends with such a beast.”

  Says the wolf who was quite the beast earlier.

  A pink flush graced Greer’s cheeks.

  “That was nothing, kitten.”

  Her cheeks grew red. “That thought was not for you to know.”

  “I’ll try to be good next time.”

  “I don’t think you’re capable of being good.” She turned away and focused on the boxes of tree toppers.

  “You, kitten, are a playful little thing.”

  A slight giggle fell from Greer’s mouth. “I think we need to concentrate on this angel you’re looking for.” She tilted her head. “That top box looks like it has some gold fabric in it. It could be an angel’s skirt.” A second later Greer’s knee was on the wire shelf, her arm stretching for the container.

  Rhys ran over. He placed his hand on the small of her back. “Easy. I dinna need you to fall.”

  Heat radiated against his palm, intensified his thoughts about Greer’s damn top. The wumman belonged in his bed. And being this close to her was doing nothing to tame the beast inside. He wanted her more now. More than he’d ever wanted anything.

  Greer was going to be his tonight.

  Chapter Seven

  Rhys carried the box of tree toppers, along with one container of ornaments, into the great room and set both down on the coffee table, a slight chink echoing as plastic met glass. Why Bane had a love for glass-topped tables was beyond him. Especially now with all the pups running about the family. Paw prints galore plastered both the castle and the cabin, never mind the finger prints when the young ones shifted back to human form. But even with their grubby little hands, that seemed to be forever caked with mud or some form of sticky, melted candy, his nephews meant the world to him. Next year they’d be old enough to help him decorate the keep’s tree. God help the ornaments then.

  His focus shifted back to the boxes in front of him. He lifted the lid off the top one, setting it aside as the whistling of a Christmas carol reached his ears. He couldn’t quite identify the song, as it was a bit off key, but it sounded closest to Angels We Have Heard on High.

  Rhys looked up to find Greer entering the room, her head bobbing along with the tune she whistled.

  He smiled to himself. The simplest things seemed to make the woman happy.

  She toted the small tree she’d picked out. “Where do you want this?”

  “On that marble-topped stand in the corner.” He pointed to the simple two-tiered planter Bane had brought back from a trip to Italy more than a century ago.

  “Everywhere I look
, there’s something interesting in this cabin,” Greer said. “It’s a far cry from Eithne’s cottage. My sister insists on a minimalist look, says it’s easier to keep clean.”

  He didn’t like Greer living in so humble a home. A beautiful lass such as herself deserved to be around finer things. “Do you agree with Eithne?”

  “Well, I am the one who does most of the cleaning and it is less to dust. But, no, it isn’t my style.” She removed the plastic bag covering the tree, and set the imitation pine in place. Stepping back, she adjusted a few dangling strings of tinsel that he’d left on the tree the last time he’d decorated it. “It’s cute, but I’m not sure it’s big enough for a room with a ceiling as tall as this one. Are you sure this is the tree we should use?”

  “It’s perfect.” He lied. Bane had asked him to put up a tree, but never specified the size. And that suited him just fine as all he wanted to do was get Greer in his arms and secure her safety. Doing up a small tree would keep his alpha happy and wouldn’t waste precious time. Plus, it would probably be easier on Greer, being her first time decorating. A large tree could easily become overwhelming.

  His gaze drifted back to the box. A selection of colorful ornaments stared up at him from between perfectly spaced cardboard dividers. Choosing an assortment, he plucked several from their beds of shredded raffia and brought them over to Greer. The smooth glass cooled his hands. “I think you’ll like these.” He offered her the decorations, each one topped with a platinum-painted cap and sterling silver hook.

  His mate’s eyes lit up. “They’re cats.”

  “Every last one of them. They belonged to my mother and are very old. One of the few things I have of my blood family.”

  He placed a small standing leopard on one of the tree’s middle branches. “The house cats are my favorite, though the lions with their gold crowns make a verra striking statement.”

  His fingers brushed against Greer’s as she went for the same branch with a tiger ornament. Heat pulsed up his arm.