“Since it’s Christmas…” Simon elaborates.
“We could stop being jerks.”
“Not that we’re giving up, but think of it sort of like a cease-fire.”
“For now,” Todd finishes up.
Katie smiles at me. It might not be the forever response she was hoping for, but she looks like all her Christmas wishes are coming true. And who am I to stand in the way of a Christmas miracle. I gesture to the floor as I back away. Todd and Simon each extend a hand to Katie, and the three of them begin to move—surprisingly gracefully for a throuple—across the boards.
Everyone I know is either dancing or chatting, and I think I could use a little breather after the last few days, plus I’m feeling sort of pulled outside, so I head toward the glass doors and out onto the balcony. The cold air is instantly refreshing, and I take a deep breath as I head to the wooden railing. The moon is almost full and looking more purple than I’ve ever seen her. The tinge of redness that’s been creeping up has engulfed her but is still thin enough that it’s mixing with the silvery-blue opalescent color I’m familiar with.
I think back to that night at the festival when I looked up and saw a bloated, taunting face, and realize how much has changed in such a short time. Although I’ve been persistent, there has always been an undercurrent of resentment in my pursuit of Jasper. But looking up now, I don’t resent the Moon Gods—if they exist; I’m glad they challenged me. For the first time, I feel hopeful.
“How’d you do it?” a gruff voice says behind me.
I turn and find Clayton standing between me and the doors. His shirt is half-untucked and his usually so perfectly quaffed hair is ruffled, messy strands falling limply over his eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“How did you do it?” He steps toward me. “How’d you trick him into thinking he could be mated to someone like you?”
There’s so much venom in his words as he spits them through clenched teeth.
“I didn’t trick anyone.”
He takes another step, dropping a bottle of whiskey as he does. Glass smashes and scatters across the stone floor.
“Have you been drinking?”
“He was supposed to be a great alpha; he was supposed to be strong and continue his family line. He was supposed to be a powerful leader…and I was supposed to stand by his side.”
Clayton is now within a couple feet of me. I back up until I’m pressed against the wood between me and the side of the mountain. A quick glance over my shoulder and I can’t even see the bottom of the valley—just a pit of never-ending darkness.
“You… You can still stand by him,” I say, my voice quivering.
“No…I can’t…because you ruined him.”
Clayton’s face has twisted into an ugly, pained expression. He clenches his fist and takes another step.
“You ruined him!”
He pulls back his fist, and I brace for the impact of his punch.
AN INEVITABLE THAWING
I squint and wait for Clayton’s fist to make contact with my face, but it doesn’t come.
For a second I wonder if he’s so drunk he missed me. Then I open my eyes properly and find Jasper, claws out, fangs elongated, having just thrown Clayton backward onto the ground.
Clayton groans and tries to stand.
“Stay down,” Jasper growls.
People are crowding at the doors, drawn over by the commotion.
“Don’t touch him,” Jasper warns the prostrate Clayton. The ruffled Adonis doesn’t submit just yet, growling in return and baring his teeth.
The crowd is spilling from the ballroom onto the balcony, their eyes darting from Clayton to Jasper to me.
