Page 129 of Moonlight & Mayhem

“Don't make me change my mind,” she said.

Chrome smiled. There was the asshole she knew. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

Chris stopped and slowly turned. “Poor choice of words.”

His smile disappeared. She walked toward Tempest. Outside, the snow fell harder, but inside, the Dark Chaos clubhouse glittered beneath Christmas lights, and somewhere in the mountains, a town filled with wolves was waiting for her. It was a town Chrome had escaped from, leaving behind a dead brother who apparently wasn't dead, and a Christmas invitation written specifically for her.

Chris touched the card in her pocket. Her wolf paced beneath her skin. Danger. Chris looked back. Chrome was watching her, his expression unreadable. She didn't need Moon's visions to know one thing—this Christmas was going to be a fucking disaster, and somehow, she had a feeling Chrome was going to be the most dangerous part of it.

Chrome

Chrome had spent twelve years pretending Holly Ridge didn't exist. Apparently, Holly Ridge hadn't returned the favor. He stood in the middle of the Dark Chaos clubhouse staring at the red box beneath the Christmas tree and felt something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a very long time—fear. Not for himself, but for the woman standing five feet away with her hand shoved into her pocket that contained an invitation. Christmas. Of all the fucking people Holly Ridge could have called, and of all the wolves they could have dragged into the nightmare he'd escaped, they'd chosen her.

Chrome's wolf paced beneath his skin. Protect. He didn't need the reminder. He'd been trying to protect Christmas since Black Hollow, though the stubborn woman hadn't made it easy. She hadn't made anything easy. Not since the first time he'd met her.

He'd expected Dark Chaos's VP to be loud and aggressive. Maybe a female version of every asshole VP he'd ever dealt with, but Chris wasn't. She was quieter than that—sharper. She didn't need to raise her voice to make people listen. She could walk into a room, look at someone, and somehow make them reconsider every bad decision they'd made since birth. Chrome had liked her immediately. Which was exactly why he'd spent months annoying the shit out of her. It was safer. Flirting was easy, teasing was easy, and getting threatened with bodily harm every time he called her Christmas was fucking delightful. Wanting something real—that was dangerous. Chrome knew what happened when a wolf loved someone because Holly Ridge had taught him that harsh lesson a long time ago.

“Don't touch the box,” he ordered. Christmas turned toward him. Chrome immediately regretted speaking.

Her eyes narrowed at him. “Again with the orders.”

“I'm serious,” he said.

“So am I,” Chris countered.

“It could be a trap,” Mayhem said.

“Which is why nobody's touching it,” Chrome insisted.

“I touched the card, and survived,” Chris said.

“That doesn't make it smart,” Chrome countered.

Her eyebrows lifted. “Did you just call me stupid?”

Mayhem muttered from behind them, “Dude.”

Chrome ignored him. “I said touching it wasn't smart.”

“Sounded like you called me stupid,” Chris said.

“Wouldn't dare,” Chrome insisted.

“Good,” she breathed.

“I'm fond of breathing,” he teased. That got the tiniest twitch from the corner of her mouth. Chrome's chest tightened. Fuck. He was in trouble.

Tempest stepped between them. “Enough flirting.”

“We're not flirting,” Christmas said.

“Yes, we are,” Chrome said. Christmas slowly turned her head to look at him, and he grinned. Her glare promised death, but it was still worth it.

Howler picked up the card using a napkin from the bar. “Can we focus on the homicidal Christmas invitation?”

“Thank you,” Christmas said.

Chrome looked at her. “So you admit it's homicidal.”