Ryan Rex. Stripper. Hometown: Nuthusk, Washington. Current residence: a room near Bear Buns, the club where he danced many nights of the week, even during the holiday season. Showing his mate mark off at the strip club hadn’t resulted in Ryan finding a fated mate.

Ethan McLean. Billionaire. He’d gone from Nuthusk to New York. Spotting him outside of his office and, well, outside at all, was a rarity. He was missing the rarest treasure of all — a fated mate.

Cain Pellichero. Romance novel model. Address: changing on a weekly basis — all mail was best sent to him through his agent. Cain had traveled the world but had naught to show for it, other than his image plastered on half the novels on the best sellers lists. He hadn’t yet found his own happily ever after.

Connor Brian. Pilot. Home — the skies, in a cockpit, but the one thing he was missing was a copilot to help him handle the turbulence of life.

Rowan Hooligan. Matchmaker. He could be found wherever there were singles that needed matchmaking in the city of Seattle…but the matchmaker had never made a match all his own.

Kevin Murphy. Forest ranger. His home was a rural cabin. It was a surprise he’d come that day, for the first Clan Marron event he’d gone to in nearly a year. He rarely ever went to Thanksgiving dinner. As a forest ranger, he watched the leaves change through the seasons, but one thing never changed. He’d seen every beast in the woods find a mate, except the creature in the mirror.

Eamonn Costello. Football player. When he wasn’t on the field, he could be found in his mansion or in the tabloids — but never in the engagement announcements section.

They were seven of the baddest boys in Clan Marron, standing outside, on the lawn, out of the lodge of Clan Marron, arms crossed over their chests, or stretched behind their backs, or at their sides — but not around the waists of mates or even girlfriends. The werebears’ biological clocks were ticking. Every second they spent single was a second they spent in danger of falling into mate madness — into the state of being taken over by their bear shifts, forever.

Emily Hu. Not a stripper, a billionaire, a romance novel model, a pilot, a forest ranger, or a football player. She was a shifter — but she had mates of her own. She was a matchmaker, in a way, in a role that Jasper Jackson, her Clan Alpha, had asked her to perform. She’d hardly believed he was serious about it…until, well, he provided proof, in the form of a demon. She knew better than to argue with anyone who could summon a demon. She also knew better than to ask more questions.

Emily looked over their ranks, scanning for the eighth, the one that should’ve been their leader. As usual, the eighth bad boy was missing — shirking his role not just as future Clan Alpha, but as leader of the ragtag gang of bad boys.

Emily heard a large car roll into the lot. She turned and recognized the driver as her target. Her inner bear roared. That wasn’t just her target. That was her Thanksgiving prey.

The hunt was on.

Sean Jackson pulled the SUV into Clan Marron’s lodge’s parking lot. The lot was full of the one thing he wanted to avoid: families, most of all his own. They were just another reminder of what he didn’t have, what he thought he’d never have. As a single young shifter, there was only one question that they’d have for him, and as soon as he stepped foot out of his car, Emily Hu asked him that question.

“Sean, honey, tell me you brought your fated mate to this year’s feast,” said Emily, a tall, lithe panda bear shifter who’d found her mates in Clan Marron. She’d join their Clan, just as they’d joined hers.

“No, there’s nobody with me this year,” said Sean.

Sean noticed as the middle-aged woman furrowed her brow. He’d managed to park right next to the Clan’s chief gossip monger, and he was sure that before he even took a seat at the feast table, every last little old grandma would be sending pictures of him to their granddaughters, pics snapped surreptitiously while he was busy helping man the grill shirtless. There was only one way to potentially stop that, and it was to do what made any woman happy, shifter or otherwise. He had to make himself useful.

“You need any help?” asked Sean, walking over to the back of Emily’s car.

“Well, if you aren’t here with a woman, you can help this woman out,” said Emily. “Here. I’ve got three trays of candied yams you can carry in. Don’t have too many scoops of this stuff. The sugar’s not good for you.”

“You know I’ve got to keep the tank full,” said Sean, patting his abs. “I’ll fit it into my macros.”

Sean caught Emily staring. He knew that his physique was his best asset. That’s why people paid top dollar for it.

“You trying to add a fourth bear to your harem?” asked Sean.

“Certainly not,” said Emily, quickly pulling out her phone to look away from Sean. “Don’t let my bears hear that you said that either.”

“I thought shifters in ménages didn’t get jealous,” said Sean.

“They don’t get jealous of the others in the ménage,” said Emily, putting her phone away and passing Sean the three big trays of yams, still warm from the oven. “Outsiders, well, they’re a different story.”

Emily closed the SUV’s trunk after grabbing two paper bags filled with disposable plates and utensils. She caught up with Sean, who had been walking away from her and towards the lodge’s front door.

“Hey,” said Emily, catching up to Sean. “Speaking of outsiders…there’s someone here from up North that I think you’re going to want to meet.”

“I’m sure I’ll meet them over dinner,” said Sean. “Gotta keep these hands busy and help all y’all put the feast on the table.”

“That can wait,” said Emily, reaching to grab the door for Sean and blocking him from moving into the main area. “Put those down there. Come on.”

Emily pushed Sean’s arms gently and nudged him to put the trays down on an empty surface. As soon as Sean put it down, another member of Clan Marron grabbed the tray to put it with the rest of the food. A third member took the paper bags from Emily and went to set the materials out. It was just another reminder that in Clan Marron, everyone seemed to have their place…everyone that is, except for Sean.

It was another reminder of his failure as future Clan Alpha. How could he be fated to be the next Clan Alpha if he couldn’t even do the most basic thing a shifter had to do – find a mate? How could he lead the group of families if he didn’t even have a family of his own?

Emily looped an arm into Sean’s arm and led him down the hall.

“Whoa, Emily, we’re really doing this, at Clan Marron Thanksgiving?” asked Sean, pulling away.

“What? Eww! No frikkin’ way,” said Emily. “Trust me. If something were going to happen, it would’ve happened already. Gross. No. You’re like a little brother to me, which is why I’ve got to take you somewhere.”

Emily pulled Sean’s arm and led him down the hallway. Even though she looked skinny, the woman was strong. Sean gave up resisting and followed Emily down the hall.

“What’s this all about?” asked Sean.

“You’ll see,” said Emily. “And…Sean? Whatever happens in there…please don’t hate me.”

Emily opened the doorway to the meeting room and pushed Sean inside.

Sean turned to leave, Emily’s ominous words triggering his fight or flight reflex, his bear opting to flee, to run, its specialty. After all, Sean was a runner.

“Not so fast,” said a booming voice.

Sean stopped in his tracks and turned.

“Hey Dad,” said Sean, turning to face his father. “You plan on telling me what all this is about?”

Sean looked around the room. The entire Council of Clan Elders was gathered, sitting in their Council chairs. Their number included Jasper Jackson, the reigning Alpha of Clan Marron, which earned him a seat on the Council, which consisted of all past living Alphas. There was a single chair set up in the center of the room. It was a power play, and Sean knew it.

“Take a seat,” said Jasper.

“I’m fine,” said Sean. “Why did you have Emily bring me here?”

“Take a seat, son,” said Jasper more gently. “You’re not in trouble.”

One of the other Clan Elders coughed, and Jasper frowned at them.

“You’re not in trouble,” reiterated Jasper. “But…we worry you might be if you don’t listen to what we have to say.”

Sean finally took the seat.

“Sean, did you bring your fated mate to the banquet planned for tonight?” asked Jasper.

“No,” said Sean.

“And why is that?” asked Jasper.

“Because…I didn’t find my fated mate this year,” admitted Sean.

“Did you try?” asked Jasper. “Plenty of eligible young women asked after you, and we gave them your number. Did you meet any of them?”

“No,” said Sean.

“And why not?” asked Jasper, rubbing his temple. “You can make this easy…or you can make this hard. Stop with the one-word answers, son.”

“Because I was busy,” said Sean.

“Bullshit,” said Jasper. “Lying to your own father?”

“I was busy,” said Sean. “I had practice, meetings with sponsors, and of course, races. I didn’t have time to date around.”

“Nobody is asking you to date around,” said Jasper. “You just have to find your one true love, your fated mate.”

“And why do I have to do that?” asked Sean, getting up angrily from the chair and standing up to his father. “Why do I have to follow tradition?”

“It’s not about following tradition,” said one of the women on the Council. “It’s about following your heart, Sean.”

“And…if you want to be the Clan Alpha one day, you’re going to have to find your fated mate,” said Jasper. “Your shift’s powers will become stronger once you’ve claimed your fated mate.”

“So what, this is just an intervention about my dating life?” asked Sean. “Save it. I get it. You want me to get serious about the mate search. Fine. I will. Can I go yet?”

“What did you say last year?” asked Jasper. “And the year before? And the year before that? You’re twenty-eight, Sean. You know what that means?”

“I know what it means,” said Sean.

“Do you?” asked one of the shifter Clan Elders. “Because it sure as shizz doesn’t sound like you do. Mate madness, boy. That ain’t nothing you want to deal with and ain’t nothing we wanna deal with neither. You think that this just affects you? Mate madness affects the whole Clan. You become our problem to deal with.”

“Sounds like you already think I’m your problem,” said Sean.

“We’re implementing a deadline,” said Jasper.

“Another year?” asked Sean.

“Christmas,” said Jasper.

“Even better,” said Sean. “That’s a year and a month.”

“No,” said Jasper. “That’s just around one month. We mean this Christmas.”

“And how exactly do you expect me to find a mate within a month?” asked Jasper, crossing his arms.

“That’s where our honored guest comes in,” said Jasper. “Work with him, and we’re sure you’ll find a mate by Christmas – as long as you listen to what he says. Heck, you might just learn that the meaning of Christmas on the way.”

“Pssh, and what exactly would that be?” sassed Sean, crossing his arms.

“Spreading joy, of course,” said Jasper with a frown. “Now, without further ado…”

He clapped his hands, and seemingly out of the shadows appeared a man with satyr-like features so strong that Sean found himself checking to see if he had a pair of horns and furry calves. The man had dark black hair, bright emerald green eyes, and a designer pin-stripe suit. Around his neck was a chain. It wasn’t a thin gold chain. The chain looked like the sort of chain a ghost would rattle in a Dickensian tale, with thick pewter links that looked like they’d seen the beginning of the universe and would last long enough to see its end.

“And who is this?” asked Sean.

“Krampus’ the name, and I supposed fixing bad boys with bad attitudes is what you’d call my ‘game,’” said the mysterious stranger. “From what I just saw, I think I’ll have my work cut out for me. Willful. Insubordinate. In denial. It’s the beginning stages of mate madness.”

“Go to Hell,” said Sean, cursing at the visitor.

Jasper shook his head in shame.

“Been there, pillaged it, got the t-shirt, and sent the postcard, sugar tits,” said Krampus. “Now, take a seat, and I’ll explain exactly what it is I’m here to do.”

“No way,” said Sean. “I’m out.”

Sean started to walk towards the door, but as he walked, he tripped. He couldn’t move his foot. He looked down and saw that it was wrapped in the same pewter chain that Krampus had around his neck.

“But…how?” asked Sean.

“You’ve heard of bats outta Hell,” said Krampus. “Well, I’m a goat out of Hell, and out of patience.”

Krampus’ chains wrapped around Sean’s body and carried Sean to the chair. The chains strung themselves through the legs of the chair to bind Sean to the chair.

“Sean Jackson, you’re being given your last chance to find your fated mate,” said Krampus, walking up to Sean and removing his suit jacket. “I’m here to turn bad boys like you into good men. Until you’ve done that, you won’t be getting this back.”

Sean watched helplessly as the man in front of him changed. Two spots on his head started to change, flashing red and green before horns spiraled out from his skull. The horns spun and curled into a set of gnarled goat’s horns, black as ebony and as ribbed as a skeleton.

Sean gulped. Apparently, this Krampus guy wasn’t full of shit. He was full of magic, and was absolutely, positively, totally a demon.

Krampus rolled up his shirt sleeve, revealing what looked like tattoo sleeves on both his arms, from upper arm to the wrist. Krampus put a hand on Sean’s chest. Sean’s shirt fell apart into shreds without Krampus ripping it with his hands. Krampus placed his palm on Sean’s mate mark. Sean pulled back. To touch a shifter’s mate mark, the mark that was meant to lead them to their fated mate, without permission was a serious faux pas. Sean struggle against the chains as his mark started to burn.

“Hold still, boy,” said Krampus. “There.”

Krampus pulled his hand back from Sean’s chest. On Krampus’s palm was a familiar symbol.

“Wait, stop!” shouted Sean. “I’ll be good. I swear. Don’t take my mark!”

The mark moved from Krampus’s palm. Sean couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Marks didn’t move, couldn’t be stolen, could they? So how was Krampus’ sleeve moving, the various symbols, from ancient runes to modern signs, moved around to let Sean’s stolen mark move through the sea of art. Sean followed the mark with his eyes, but soon it was buried among the symbols on Krampus’ arm.

“What is this?” asked Sean. “What sort of witchcraft?”

“Demoncraft, not witchcraft,” said Krampus. “You will get that back once you’re done being…Naughty. Until you get on Santana’s Nice List, you’ll have a mark that reminds you of why you lost your old mark.”

Krampus ran a finger across Sean’s chest. Sean swore it felt his hand felt like a cloven hoof. Sean looked down. His mate mark was gone, replaced by something else. It was one word, seven letters long, emblazoned on his left pec to his left shoulder in emerald green.

“Naughty? Nice?” asked Sean. “Santana? What are you talking about?”

“Because you haven’t tried to find your mate – and I mean, really tried – you’re in danger of falling into mate madness. Because you’ve willingly decided to do that, to cause trouble for not only yourself but Clan Marron, you’ve made it onto The Naughty List,” explained Krampus. “You’ve heard of it before – from the old songs and stories, sung about my boss, Santana Claus – who you know by a different name, ‘Santa Claus.’ Because you’ve been Naughty, you’ve proved you can’t be trusted with your shift – or your mate mark.”

“The Naughty List? Santa Claus? This doesn’t make any sense,” protested Sean. “What does this have to do with me and my mark?”

“Your Clan has a deal with Santana. When bad boys like you cause trouble for the Clan – or are about to cause trouble, by falling into mate madness – they call in me,” explained Krampus. “I take your mark…and I take your shift. After all, by landing your furry ass on The Naughty List, you’ve proven you can’t be trusted with your shift, so what do you need the mark for anyway?”

“How do I get it back?” asked Sean. “I need to have my mark if I have any chance of keeping my shift. Without my mark…I’ll fall into mate madness for sure. I won’t be able to claim a mate without my mark!”

“There’s only one way to get your mate mark back,” Krampus said slyly.

“Whatever it is, I’ll do it,” swore Sean. “I’ll do anything.”

“Would you shake on that?” asked Krampus, loosening Sean’s chain.

The demon put his suit jacket back on and put the chain back around his neck. It shrunk back down to its previous size. Krampus extended a hand. Sean took it and shook, hard. Krampus smiled.

“Silly boy,” said Krampus. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to make deals with demons? You’ve lost your right to have your mate mark and shift by getting on The Naughty List. Now, to earn them back, you’re going to have to get on The Nice List. The rules are simple. Get off of The Naughty List. That’s the only way you’ll earn back your mark – but not your shift. Claim your fated mate by Christmas. All you have to do, in exchange for me supervising your rehabilitation, is complete The Ride. Do all that, and you not only leave Montana with your mark and your shift but, you’ll come back here with a fated mate.”

“The Ride?” asked Sean. “Montana?”

“Every year, Santana Claus rides around the world, giving presents to all the Nice boys and girls,” said Krampus, crossing his arm. “He needs strong shifters to pull his sleigh. You’re a shifter, and by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be strong. The training camp just so happens to be in a little town called The Wreath, in Montana.”

“I’m a pro athlete. I know how time-consuming training is, especially for what sounds like one Hell of a marathon. How am I supposed to get off of The Naughty List, find my fated mate, and claim her by Christmas…if I’m training for The Ride?” asked Sean.

“That sounds like a whole lot of your problem, and not my problem at all. Say goodbye to your father,” ordered Krampus. “You won’t be seeing your Clan for the next month.”

“The next month?” asked Sean, before he looked to Jasper. “Father…where am I going?”

“Somewhere you can get the help you need,” said Jasper. “It doesn’t bring me joy to send you away, but the best Christmas gift you could give me would be changing your ways, son. Do me proud.”

“You’re going to Camp Kringle,” said Krampus. “Starting now, you’re one of Santana Claus’ reindeer, and you’ve got training to do on Santana’s Christmas tree farm. You might be a pro runner, but that doesn’t mean you’re prepared to pull the sleigh. While The Jolly Fellow prepares for the season, I’ll be whipping your hide into shape. Trust me, I’m one Hell of a boss. Speaking of reindeer…suppose we might as well do this now. Put your hand on this.”

Krampus pulled a snow globe out of his suit pants pocket as if he had pulled it out of thin air. Inside the snow globe was a wooded area coated in tiny bits of snow that seemed to come from the top of the snow globe. Sean saw what looked like a reindeer running through the woods for a split second.

Sean put his hand on the globe. He felt a spark that turned into a flow of energy, of primal power, one more intense than the one he’d felt from the mark swap. As one energy ebbed from his body, another flowed in. Red and green rivers of light flowed in and out of Sean’s palms. He smelled peppermint and swore he could hear the tinkling of jingle bells.

Sean tried to pull his hand off the globe, but a new force compelled him to keep his hand on the small decoration. It was an unknown force, with a voice. His bear told him to run like it always had but another power, a stronger force that didn’t feel like a predator but felt ancient and mystical, told Sean not to remove his hand. Soon, the voice of the bear turned into an incomprehensible roar, the roar echoing in Sean’s head before it faded away into the abyss. The other sound tried to soothe Sean, but Sean resisted the voice’s will with all his muster. It may be able to control his body, but not his heart.

“Congratulations, moron,” said Krampus. “You just gave me your shift.”

“So then who is inside my head?” asked Sean. “Am I possessed, demon? Get your hellion out of my head!”

“Meet Dasher, your new shift,” said Krampus. “He’s one of Santana’s eight reindeer, and he needs a host so he can pull the sleigh. Pro tip: don’t give away all your bargaining power without question. It leaves you in no position to make demands. I took your mark and a shift, and it was easy as taking candy from a baby. You barely put up a fight.”

“What did you do with my shift?” yelled Sean.

“Calm your tits,” said Krampus. “Look.”

Krampus held the globe up. Inside the globe, Sean’s grizzly ran through a snowy forest, chasing rabbits.

“Your shift will remain here until you’ve earned it,” said Krampus. “It’s time to go. Santana Claus isn’t a fan of tardiness, and we’re already late. We have to cut this milk and cookies break short.”

Krampus pulled the chain off his neck and tossed it. The chain expanded into a large circle, around ten feet in diameter. A glowing portal of green flames appeared in the center of the ring, emanating from the circle’s inner rim to the center of the circle. The portal’s surface rippled like water as the chains rotated in a slow circle.

“Wait, Santana Claus? Like Santa Claus? He’s not real. No frikkin’ way. Where are you taking me?” asked Sean. “The North Pole?”

“Try Montana,” said Krampus, pushing Sean through the mysterious portal and into his future.