A howl outside the window pulls me to the other side of the room, and I shield my eyes before tugging the curtain aside. Three large wolves emerge from the trees, moving like shadows over the snowy ground. I take an instinctive step back, fear lancing through my system.
Except they aren’t rushing forward like they’re going to attack. They aren’t even running. They’rewalking,strolling almost, with a casual stride. The two on the right nudge each other playfully, nipping at each other’s ears.
Something about them is familiar. Their confident gait, their unnatural height. Even their dark fur. Have I seen them before?
I jolt as another memory resurfaces.The fire.The pack that broke into The Iris… wolves everywhere, flames everywhere. So many screams and so much death. The details are fuzzy, but could they be the same wolves?
If so, how did I end up here with them?
Just then, the largest wolf, a brilliant dark red one with black-tipped ears, looks up at my window. Panic swells in my chest, and I let the curtain fall. My breath comes out in quick pants. It’sdefinitelythem. I saw that wolf kill a vampire right in front of me at the club.
Fuck.
How did I go from being chained in a vampire club to being locked in a room in a shifter pack house? And how do I get out?
2
ROWEN
It seems impossible that so much has changed in the time I was away. I’d spent the entire day in the woods, hoping to avoid the hassle of setting up Christmas. Mom had insisted on it after the chaos in the city two days ago, saying we all needed the joy after so much violence.
Now, that joy is mocking me as we approach the back patio.
It looks like the North Pole exploded, with white lights wrapped around the banister and a woodenMerry Christmassign leaning by the stairs. Mom’s favorite red wreath hangs on the back door, complete with a shiny gold bell. There even sits that gaudy light-up snowman below the window. I hate that snowman. The motion sensor scared me when I was a kid.
What’s the point of decorating if no one is going to see it? Our neighbors never come to this side of the house, so why bother?
Something draws my attention to the windows on the second floor, and I pause when I see a slender man standing in the second one on the left. He quickly disappears behind the curtain, as if terrified.
Looks like our guest is awake,I say through our pack link.
Neal’s ears flick as he glances up, then we all quicken our pace to get inside.
We enter through the mudroom on the side of the house, shifting to our human forms before getting dressed. My clothes are warm thanks to the heater in the room, and the fabric provides a soothing touch against my chilled skin.
Footsteps patter against the tile floor a second before little Aster bolts into the room. “Mama!”
Taren smiles as she scoops her three-year-old son into her arms. “Hey, sweetie. Did you help set up the tree?”
The toddler nods enthusiastically, holding a plastic ornament up for her to inspect.
“Did you save this one for me?”
“Uh-huh. It’s a bunny.”
She hugs him. “Thank you. Let’s go hang it.”
I take a deep breath, already dreading the Christmas hell I’m about to walk into, and when I finally exit the hall, the scene is just as bad as I expected.
A twelve-foot pine tree sits in the center of the room, its long branches almost touching both couches, which have been rearranged to allow space for the monstrosity. Red and white lights flicker between the brightly colored ornaments, each one painted by a member of our pack. Neal’s holiday paintings replace our framed photographs on the walls, and someone has scattered the annoying tinsel-covered snowmen around the room.
But it’s the wooden figurines displayed across the mantel that make my heart ache. Each of them hand-carved by my dad. A gift to my mom every year.
It pains me that her beloved collection will never grow.
Ignoring the cheerful group, I walk to the kitchen in search of food. Despite having eaten two rabbits while in wolf form, I’m still hungry. Shifting does that to me, especially in the winter.
Red startles when I catch him sneaking a fresh sugar cookie from the cooling rack.
