Christmas Wolf Read online

  “Did you tell my friend this?”

  Obviously, the Viking didn’t know Rhys’s true opinion of him. “No. I couldn’t.”

  “Seems easy enough to me. I am banshee. That is all you had to say.”

  It wasn’t that clean cut, but explaining it wasn’t going to do any of them good now. “We need to go after Rhys.”

  Vidar shook his head. “Impossible. No one knows where he went.”

  “If we don’t find him, my sisters will. And then Rhys will really end up dead. Now let me get dressed so we can go look for him.”

  The Viking didn’t budge. “You should have told my friend.”

  “Yeah, and you shouldn’t have caused his tree topper to break.”

  A confused look crossed Vidar’s face. “That was not my doing.”

  “Rhys said it was. Now turn around.” She shooed him with her hand.

  Vidar did her bidding. “Bane is to blame for the angel. He insisted I howl. We needed Rhys to…”

  “To what?” She grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around her, then scooted out of bed.

  “To find you.”

  “But no one knew I would be here.”

  “I have said too much.”

  “You haven’t said anywhere near enough. Now spill it.” She walked over to the man and pulled his arm.

  Vidar turned around. “The skirt wearer needed to find his destiny. If he continued serving as butler at Wolfsden, he would never find his pack.”

  “He doesn’t have a pack.”

  “You need to speak with Bane.”

  “There isn’t time.”

  “Dress and I will take you to Wolfsden. I can offer nothing more.”

  If that was all she was going to get, then she had no choice but to listen to the Viking.

  Hopefully, Bane would give her the answers she needed to save Rhys.

  If only she knew how to change the man’s destiny.

  Chapter Ten

  Less than an hour later and Greer was sitting in the library at Wolfsden Keep, her gaze bearing down on the pack’s alpha, Bane. “You do realize, you might have cost Rhys his life.”

  “My son is far wiser than you seem to credit him.” The fierce wolf, with his long black hair worn loose over his shoulders, sat in an oversized chair covered in what she knew to be the MacHendrie tartan. His jeans and white button down shirt gave him the appearance of a collected, modern alpha, who appeared relaxed but whose brilliant green eyes said otherwise. The man was one warrior she’d never want to oppose. The way he’d managed to keep his voice calm, was just one of the many talents she imagined he had.

  “I have total faith in Rhys,” Greer said. “He can lead a pack any day. Probably even better than you.”

  “Of that I have no doubt. Rhys is the best of this clan. The best damn wolf among us but he needed a push to find his destiny.”

  “That push should not have involved my sisters.”

  “They are this pack’s banshees. And due to your lineage, you are Rhys’s. The three of you combined, have power over both bloodlines.”

  She didn’t like how the alpha goaded her siblings. Those witches were vile creatures who’d stop at nothing to get what they wanted. And all they wanted was to regain their youth, which would only last temporarily and then they’d be on to the next shifter. “You should have just talked to Rhys.”

  Bane leaned forward. “That would not have worked. I adopted Rhys when his own father declared to the gods that the man was dead. Do you know the trauma one suffers when one’s own father declares him dead?”

  No, she didn’t. She couldn’t. Even with her horrid sisters, she still had a home life better than what Rhys had among his blood father. “I still don’t agree with you having pushed him to this point.”

  “He needed to find his destiny on his own.” The alpha stood. “Rhys will know what to do, when the time comes.”

  She wished she could believe that. Not that she didn’t have faith in her wolf, she just worried Eithne and Frangag would interfere. “I’m going to look for him.”

  “You will do no such thing as you are my concern now. As my son’s mate, I will protect you and to do so, I must insist you remain at Wolfsden for the time being.”

  “I can’t just leave him out there.”

  Bane released a deep breath, his hands balled into a fist, but then quickly flexed open. “If you love Rhys, you will let him be for now.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “I expect you to be present at the Christmas Ball tomorrow night. A selection of gowns has been brought to your room. Pick the one you want, or request a different collection. But you must be at the ball.”

  “I will do as you wish. But if Rhys is not here by midnight, I am going to look for him.”

  Bane nodded. “Fair enough.” He adjusted the cuff of his shirt, toyed with the white button. “I know you think me cruel, Miss O’Keene. But believe me when I say I have done what is best for Rhys. I hope you can see that or in the least, accept my intentions toward my son.”

  Despite the authoritativeness in Bane’s voice, the care he had for his son, came through. Now she knew where Rhys had inherited his excellent qualities, even if Bane wasn’t his blood father. He’d obviously made an impact on her mate, and for that, she was grateful. “I am sure you have done all you can for the man. But if Rhys’s fate is not changed by midnight, tomorrow, I will be forced to take his life. And it will be something I cannot control. If I fight it, my sisters will act in my stead.”

  “Fate is not easy to change.”

  “I’m well aware of that fact. It’s why I haven’t been able to intercede on Rhys’s behalf just yet. I don’t know what it is that he needs to do, only that he is destined for more than what he does now. How to get him there, is what I haven’t figured out yet.”

  “Fate can be changed through sacrifice, through acceptance of one’s self, or even acceptance of others. There are ways. But the decision must come from within. Just believe in Rhys, Miss O’Keene. That is all I ask.”

  And with that the alpha took his leave.

  The choice wasn’t easy to sit back and let Rhys handle this on his own, but she didn’t have much option in the matter. Bane was probably right in that she should remain at Wolfsden. She didn’t have a clue where Rhys had gone off to, and roaming around Scotland, aimlessly, wasn’t going to help.

  All she could do was wait.

  And pray to the gods that her mate found a way to change his fate, on his own.

  Chapter Eleven

  Christmas Eve, Dundaire, Scotland

  Rhys paced the sitting room of Bane’s townhouse. He should never have come here, but until he knew where to go, where to start over, he needed a place to think. Thank God, his alpha allowed him this stay. The man could have insisted he just go, especially after he’d announced he was leaving the pack. But Bane understood.

  He took a deep breath. This was going to be the first Christmas he’d spent alone since joining the MacHendrie pack. But he didn’t belong with them. And he certainly didn’t belong with Greer.

  Robbie lifted his head from the velvet pillow on the sofa.

  “What?”

  The dog barked.

  “Yes, I know I’m wearing my dress kilt. It’s what I wear every Christmas Eve.”

  A whine rose from Robbie’s throat.

  “Who says you can’t get dress up to be alone?”

  The dog’s ears twitched. He sighed.

  “You’re right. This is not fair to you.” Robbie belonged with the other dogs at Wolfsden Keep. There they had room to run, in the village of Dundaire he’d be confined to the house and the small yard out back. That was no life for a dog who was used to running free. He had to take Robbie back.

  Rhys went for the dog’s leash hanging on the peg rack on the back of the closet door. “Come on. I’ll take you home, then figure out where I’m to go.”

  The dog bounded off the sofa, his tail wagging furiously.

  “But rememb
er. I am not staying.”

  Robbie barked and went straight for the front door.

  Rhys grabbed the car keys from the table. Next to them sat Greer’s frayed, pink collar, the three-claw medallion glistening in the moonlight as a ray crossed the room. He snatched the damn thing and fastened it to his wrist.

  A bolt of energy gripped his hand, snaked up his arm and struck his heart.

  Pain throbbed through his entire body.

  Rhys inched backward, his right hand splayed across his chest. Only once in his life had he experience this degree of agony, and that was when he’d given up his right to lead his father’s pack. Now that torture had returned and he hadn’t a clue as to why.

  His gaze drifted to his wrist, to the tag on Greer’s collar.

  The design lit up as if infused with molten lava, its flickering glow pulsing through the metal.

  Three claw marks.

  Bloody, fucking hell. Now he remembered where he’d seen the crest before. It matched the mark left by his father on the documents declaring him dead.

  What the hell did his Greer have to do with all this? He would have remembered her if she was on the battle field the day his pack was destroyed, the same day his father had disowned him.

  Wind rattled the windows.

  A chill enveloped him, kissed his flesh and sent goosebumps dotting over his arms.

  The glowing design on the tag pulsed bright, then faded. With it went the pain from Rhys’s body.

  He caught his breath, his mind reeling in confusion.

  Anxiety touched his soul. War was brewing, of that he was certain, for its foul essence lingered on his tongue. But the upcoming fight did not taste of wolf. It had a nature far darker, far more sinister. Far more unnatural.

  And he cudna help but worry that at the heart of it lingered his sweet mate, Greer.

  ~~~~~~~~

  The trip to Wolfsden didn’t take more than forty minutes. Standing in front of the castle, Rhys stared down the hill, his gaze watching the guests arrive for the ball.

  Robbie sat at his side.

  “I think it best we go around back. Maybe I should take you directly to the kennels.”

  The dog barked. Profusely.

  “It is where you belong.”

  Robbie raised his paw and swiped at Rhys’s leg. Hard.

  “Hey. That’s not like you.”

  His four-legged friend growled.

  “Okay. I will not take you to the kennel. But we also canna go in the front door.”

  Robbie had other plans. With a pull to the leash, the dog was dashing down the hill, Rhys running after him.

  Both skidded into the keep’s main hall.

  Bane grabbed Robbie’s collar and halted the animal.

  Rhys steadied himself. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said, addressing his alpha in the proper manner in front of the man’s guests. Few people knew of his true place among the clan, most only knowing him as the castle’s butler, as was his own wish.

  “It’s nearly midnight,” Bane said.

  “Forgive me. I’ll return the dog to his kennel.”

  “No need. He is free to roam as he pleases.”

  With guests? What the hell was Bane up to?

  Robbie padded over to stand at his side. He shook his neck.

  Rhys bent down and unhooked the dog’s leash.

  The scent of lilacs filtered into the hall.

  Rhys turned around. In the doorway stood three women, all dressed in long, flowing capes. One of them was Greer.

  A collective gasp echoed across the room as the pack parted, nearly clearing the floor.

  The women entered but Greer said nothing to him.

  “Good evening, MacHendries,” the one in the red cape announced. “Frangag and I will not stay long tonight. For we have come only for one soul.” She walked among the pack, circling the room. “Our sister, Greer has refused to do her duty and therefore we are intervening for her.”

  Greer and the other woman remained in place.

  So, these were his mate’s wicked sisters.

  Eithne snapped her head around. “We are indeed, MacGregor. And it is your soul for whom we’ve come to take.”

  The scent of lilac turned from pleasant to rotting.

  Banshee.

  His mate was a banshee?

  “I will not have this,” Greer said. “Take me, Eithne. Take me in Rhys’s place.”

  Frangag pushed back the hood of her green cape and walked up to Rhys. “Would you like that, Highlander? To live, to fulfill your destiny, to allow your mate to give up her life for yours?”

  “Of course, not. She will do no such thing. If it is my soul that you have come for, then my soul you shall get.” He was not letting anyone harm his Greer.

  Eithne approached him. Her cracked lips edged in a sick smile. “I think we should like to play a game, MacGregor.”

  “Anything, as long as you leave Greer out of this.”

  “Oh, but she is a vital part to our fun tonight.” The vile banshee snapped her fingers, mumbled words in an ancient Celtic dialect, and commanded a swirl of smoke to rise from nothing.

  A second later three black cats circled him.

  “Pick your mate, MacGregor,” a disembodied voice called from the air. “Prove how well you know her. Show me, her queen, that you are worthy of being her mate.”

  Banshee’s were ruled by the ancient Celtic goddess named Morrigan, of this he knew for fact. And angering the goddess was not a good thing. But the three cats were identical. “This is insane.”

  “Fail and both you and Greer will die,” the Morrigan said. “As will your pack.”

  “I dinna have a pack.”

  “Oh, but you do.”

  Robbie barked, scratched at Rhys’s leg.

  “Not now.” He needed to concentrate on the felines. There had to be a way for him to know his own mate.

  Robbie growled. He jumped up and nipped at Rhys’s wrist.

  The collar. “You’re brilliant, buddy.” Immediately he had the frayed strip of fabric unfastened and dangling from his fingers. “Only the one who is owed my soul, can wear this.”

  The first of the three cats came up to him, stuck her neck out for a try at the collar.

  Rhys bent down and attempted to fasten the item around the feline’s neck. It didn’t fit. The cat screeched, then with a puff, disappeared.

  One of the remaining two cats meowed. She ran at Rhys and clawed his shin, her paws digging deep.

  He quickly slipped the collar over her head.

  The cat stilled.

  Rhys held his breath.

  The feline arched its back and then turned to dust.

  Neither, apparently were Greer.

  The only cat left had to be his mate.

  He eyed her head on and allowed the collar to dangle from his fingers. “Take it. Then take me.”

  The feline stepped back. “I can never take your life, Rhys. You are my mate. My destiny.”

  “Dammit wumman. I will not have you die for me.”

  “It’s the only way for you to live.”

  “No. I gave up everything once before, for my brother. And he survived. Now I will give up whatever I have left. For I am Rhys MacGregor and while my father may have considered me dead to him, I know for fact I am alive. And that is all I have left to give.” He lifted his head, stared into the air. “So, come for me, Morrigan. All that I am, I now give up to spare my Greer’s life.”

  Tremors struck the ground.

  The castle shook.

  Robbie fell over, his body trembled, violently.

  Rhys grabbed on to the wall. He inched down, reached for Greer and lifted her into his arms.

  Everything went still.

  A beautiful woman dressed in a long, black hooded cape, appeared before the clan. She walked over to Rhys. “If you ever mistreat my daughter, I will come for your soul. That I promise you. Greer is of my blood. One of only a few banshees actually born to me. Make her a good husband. And re
ign over your pack and be the alpha you were meant to be.”

  The Morrigan then vanished.

  Greer jumped from his arms and ran up the stairs.

  Vidar sauntered over to him. He grabbed him by the arm. “Let her go. You need to tend to your brother now.”

  His brother?

  The Viking glanced down at the floor.

  A young man sat curled in a ball at Rhys’s feet, his body shaking. “Robbie?”

  Vidar handed Rhys a blanket.

  Robbie looked up at him. “The pack is yours, Rhys. It always has been.”

  He wrapped the covering around his brother’s body. “But you were a dog.”

  “Part. My mother was not full wolf.”

  Bane came up to him. “Now you know why I put you in the kennel some nights. I prayed, so many times, that as wolf, you would realize who those dogs were. That you’d find a way to break their curse and lead them.”

  “You rescued my pack?”

  “What was left of them. The gods cursed them when your father declared you dead.”

  Robbie rose. “You only needed to find your bloody guts to stand up to the gods, to prove you could be our alpha. That is what they wanted of you because they never got that from our father. You had to prove you were not him.”

  “But you are his legal heir.”

  “Only because of our father’s say so. But that means nothing in the eyes of the gods. Besides, I have just spent nearly three centuries trapped as a dog. I’m ready to have a bit of fun, brother. And that does not include leading that pack of mangy mutts.”

  Vidar patted Robbie on the back. “Come, I will get you some clothes.” He led the young man upstairs.

  He had a pack of his own. Who would have thought such a thing possible?

  “You do know,” Bane said. “You will have to make amends to those dogs for having called them mangy mutts so many times.”

  That was the least of his worries. “They will need to be moved from the kennels.”

  “Callen is already taking care of that,” Bane said.

  “I have no place for them to call home.”

  “The summit of Mount Dundaire would be a good place to start.”