“So,” said Krampus, as Eamonn rowed the boat across the lake.

“So?” asked Eamonn.

“It’s not my place to pry, but…are you going to work on claiming your mate now?” asked Krampus.

“Not until I get off of The Naughty List,” said Eamonn, rowing the boat.

“Wait…you mean you didn’t notice?” asked Krampus, closing his book, an encyclopedia of North American hauntings.

“Notice what?” asked Eamonn.

“After that fight, you got off The Naughty List,” said Krampus.

“You didn’t tell me that,” said Eamonn. He stopped rowing for a minute and looked underneath his shirt. His mark had changed. It no longer said ‘Naughty’ — it said ‘Nice,’ in pine green.

“Whoa,” said Eamonn with a frown. “I…I didn’t know. I wasn’t even trying.”

“You spent years fighting for the wrong reasons – over things like bets and drinking games,” explained Krampus. “That fight at the bakery helped a man realize he was in the wrong and gave him a change of heart – just in time for Christmas. He’d held a Christmas event. You calmed him down – to be fair, by force – and made him realize that not everyone was out to get him. That’s what made him feel the Christmas spirit and gave him a change of heart. That change of heart…well, that got you off of The Naughty List.”

“Now what?” asked Eamonn.

“Well, to keep your shift, you have to claim your fated mate,” said Krampus. “But, because you’re off of The Naughty List, you’ve proved that you can be trusted with your shift — and your mate mark. There’s one caveat.”

“What?” asked Eamonn.

“You can only have one shift in your body at a time because you’re not a magical being,” said Krampus.

“But I’m a shifter,” said Eamonn.

“Shifters ain’t magic,” said Krampus. “Y’all are practically humans. ‘Oh, I can turn into an animal I’m so special.’ Bah.”

“So how does this work then?” asked Eamonn.

“You can have your bear back whenever you want, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your training or The Ride,” explained Krampus. “But, that reminds me. I did forget to give you this.”

Krampus smacked Eamonn right in the chest! Eamonn lost grip of the oars for a second. Krampus burst out laughing.

“What the fuck, man?” asked Eamonn. The mark on his chest burned as he cursed.

The rules still apply, warned Blitzen. Better not get back on The Naughty List!

Blah, blah, blah, blah humbug, said Eamonn.

“You can’t claim your mate without a mate mark, now, can you?” asked Krampus, raising an eyebrow. “And speaking of claiming a mate…”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve had much time away from base camp,” retorted Eamonn.

“Fair,” admitted Krampus. “Tell you what. Want to spend the day with Hope? Go for it. I’ll just leave the boat by the bakery.”

“How will you get back to Camp Kringle?” asked Eamonn.

“Do you even have to ask?” replied Krampus, fingering the chain around his neck.

“The usual?” Melissa asked cheerily.

“Yeah,” said Hope, passing Melissa her credit card and stuffing a few singles in the tip jar.

“One large mug of Christmas tea and a white chocolate cranberry scone, coming up,” said Melissa, charging the card and passing it back to Hope.

Hope put her card away and watched Melissa prepare her order. Bear Claw Bakery wasn’t very crowded this early in the morning, which was part of why Hope showed up so early, so Hope didn’t need to go and reserve a table. She watched as Melissa worked behind the counter. Melissa was cheery — irritatingly so to Hope, but apparently, most customers liked that sort of holiday spirit. In contrast, Hope was an absolute humbug. Her entire dang project was primarily an exercise in humbuggery, focused on picking apart a happy holiday celebration in the pursuit of what?

Hope wasn’t quite sure anymore.

The holiday cheer was absolutely infectious, and she felt herself coming down with it, even though she wanted to pretend otherwise. What was the point of analyzing the holiday celebrations around The Wreath when instead, she could be a participant, make friends, and have a good time? Why was she so intent of making fun of things instead of having fun?

The backdoor to the cafe jingled as it opened. Hope was so used to the sound that she practically had a Pavlovian response to the tinkling sound of the bells. She knew what it meant — Eamonn was at the bakery.

“Coming!” called Melissa, finishing up Hope’s order. “Here. Have a great day, Hope. Here’s hoping you have some academic breakthrough or something.” Melissa put down the plate and mug and went to the back of the bakery.

Hope carried her order to her favorite table and set up her materials. Today, she was going to analyze the town’s giant Christmas trees, all twenty-four of them, and note which ornaments were period accurate, and which decorations…well, would be very out of place in the Regency era, such as the glowing plastic lights.

Hope’s phone pinged. She checked her phone. She had an email from Jerry marked, ‘EMERGENCY!!!’ with a red alert symbol next to it. She rolled her eyes. What kind of a frikkin’ emergency could he be having?

“Well, hey, professor,” said a deep, gravelly voice.

Hope looked up. Standing right in front of her table was Eamonn.

“Hey,” said Hope. “How’re you?”

“Pretty good,” said Eamonn, taking a seat across from Hope. “It’s my day off. I can do whatever I want today.”

“And what do you want to do?” asked Hope.

“You,” started Eamonn.

Nice, said Blitzen. You know, you can’t act the way you operate at a party when you’re at a bakery with a professor. Wrong play.

So you do know football metaphors, said Eamonn.

I know them. I just don’t like them, said Blitzen. If you wanna get a touchdown, you need to get in her end zone, and if you want to get in her end zone, you need to make the right kind of pass. Get it? Pass? Because you’re making a pass at her? And you’re trying to score?

I regret ever talking sports with you, said Eamonn.

“Wh-what?” squeaked Hope. “Me?”

“I wasn’t done,” said Eamonn, raising a brow. “I was going to say…’You have any ideas?’”

“Oh,” said Hope, blushing. “Well…I’d say your best bet is just walking around and seeing what catches your eye.”

“You wouldn’t happen to free today, would you?” asked Eamonn. “In a big town like this, I’m gonna need a tour guide.”

“Something came up today,” said Hope.

“Does it require heavy lifting?” asked Eamonn, kissing one of his own biceps. “If so, you’ve got the man for the job right here.”

“Jerry sent me an email, and I haven’t opened it yet, but it seems urgent,” said Hope lamely.

“Hey, I agreed to help you out with all this Jerry stuff,” Eamonn reminded Hope. “Let’s read the email.”

“Alright,” said Hope, pulling her phone out and pulling the email up. “‘Hope — I’ll make this quick. I need your help for tomorrow’s Christmas dance in the woods. I don’t know how we’re going to pull this thing together and make it historically accurate. Please help, Jerry.’”

“Wow, not an email asking you to get back together with him?” asked Eamonn. “Color me surprised.”

“He provided a dossier about the event too,” said Hope, opening the attachment. “Ugh. This is a mess. They have some clearing in the woods where they’re holding the dance…but that’s literally it.”

“Well, if you were going to a Regency dance in the winter, in the woods, what would you do?” asked Eamonn.

“I wouldn’t have a Regency dance in the woods at all,” answered Hope, crossing her arms. “Maybe a historic mansion, or even the community center.”

“Okay, but, if it was in the woods, what would you do?” asked Eamonn.

“Well, according to him…this dance is taking place near the community center,” said Hope, showing Eamonn a map. “The community center is here, the path to the clearing is here, and over here, that’s the clearing. The path loops around back to the community center.”

“Can you get the community center for the event?” asked Eamonn.

“I can find out,” said Hope, quickly texting Jerry Eamonn’s query.

“Alright, now, dances of the period — what were they like?” asked Eamonn. “They’re all formal and stuff, right?”

“Not at all,” said Hope. “I mean, they could be…but for a casual party like this, it’d be much livelier.”

“What about food and drink?” asked Eamonn.

“For a party, it’d be just like our parties — special fare would be put out for guests,” explained Hope. “Although…from what I’ve seen of The Wreath, I don’t think anybody is going to be able to prepare any historically accurate food.”

“We can check online,” said Eamonn.

“Do you know what kind of town this is?” asked Hope, quirking a brow. “This place doesn’t even have online food ordering. I have to call in my orders for Chinese food.”

“And where did you get the number to call in those orders for mu shu pork?” asked Eamonn.

“Number one — I’m a broccoli beef kind of girl, gotta get in those veggies. Number two — there’s a big yellow phonebook at my place,” said Hope. “I’m renting a cabin near the community center.”

“So let’s heard over there and make it our base of operations,” said Eamonn.

“Our?” asked Hope.

“I told you — I’m in this with you, coach,” said Eamonn. “With my help, you’ll get things done a lot faster.”

“Alright, player…what’s the game plan?” asked Hope.

“I thought you’d never ask,” said Eamonn.

Eamonn and Hope walked through the streets of The Wreath on the way to Hope’s cabin. Eamonn and Hope bounced ideas off of one another so, by the time they reached the cabin, they had a solid game plan.

“Alright — so, I’ll write down the numbers and questions for you, pass them to you, and you’ll call up the businesses, ask them questions, and give me the phone if they give positive answers to the questions,” said Hope. “While you do that, I’ll prep the next set of notes for you.”

“Sounds like a plan, professor,” said Eamonn.

Hope’s phone rang. She had a text.

“We got the community center,” said Hope. “Jerry had just forgotten to mention that they had it as a potential rain site.”

Hope showed Eamonn around her tiny cabin. It was studio style, with one big room containing her kitchen, combination dining room and living room. There was one bedroom, off to the side. There was also one bathroom, behind a door.

“At least it’s bigger than a dorm,” said Eamonn, taking a seat at the ‘kitchen table’ while Hope brewed them some Earl Grey tea to sip on while they worked.

“That’s not a very good ‘at least,’” said Hope, quirking a brow.

Eamonn sat across from Hope as Hope flicked through the pages of the phonebook. He watched her flick pages for a full fifteen minutes before Hope threw her head down on the phonebook.

“Hope! Be careful! You’re going to hurt yourself,” said Eamonn.

“It’s no use,” said Hope. “I don’t think that the event can be saved.”

“Why not?” asked Eamonn.

Hope sat up, sniffling. Eamonn went and grabbed some napkins from the kitchen counter.

“I just…there’s nobody in here who is remotely appropriate to work the event,” said Hope, tears streaming down her face.

“So?” asked Eamonn. “So Jerry’s event looks bad. Oh well.”

“You don’t get it — this is a small town, and here I am, the mean professor lady who goes around nitpicking their cute little events,” said Hope, crying harder. “I already look like this huge bitch, and, well, now, when it comes time for me to show them how things are really done…I look like a huge jerk who can talk a big game but can’t deliver!”

“Calm down,” said Eamonn.

“I can’t!” said Hope.

“Well, now, I know that’s wrong,” said Eamonn. He went to the side of the table.

“Come on, Hope, get up,” said Eamonn.

“I can’t!” said Hope.

“I didn’t want to have to do this…but…” started Eamonn. Eamonn reached down and pulled out Hope’s chair. Hope was bawling. Eamonn picked Hope up and carried her, fireman style, to the couch, and sat her on his lap, her head against his chest.

“There, there,” said Eamonn, patting Hope’s back. “Get it all out, Hope.”

“I just…ugh, why am I such a humbug?” asked Hope.

“Because it’s your job?” joked Eamonn.

“I just…I don’t get why I thought this was a good idea,” said Hope. “I should’ve just had a normal vacation and had fun.”

“You know I tried pro-wrestling for a while?” asked Eamonn.

“What?” asked Hope, looking up at Eamonn. “Why?”

“I don’t know!” said Eamonn with a laugh. “It sounded like a good idea at the time, something to do in the off-season, but, well, I didn’t even win one match, and a bunch of people made fun of me. But, I can laugh with them…because I knew when to quit.”

“You think I should quit being a professor?” asked Hope.

“I think you and I both should quit being humbugs,” said Eamonn. “Why don’t you just have some fun? And throw a fun event? Catch the Christmas spirit!”

“No…” started Hope, drying her eyes and sitting straight up.

“You don’t want to catch the Christmas spirit?” asked Eamonn. “You know, I have a teammate who swears ‘the Christmas spirit’ is a euphemism for ‘chlamydia’ so maybe it’s a good idea not to catch it…or to have an orgy on Christmas Eve.”

“No, I need to help the town catch the Regency spirit,” said Hope. “It doesn’t matter if it’s accurate — as long as it’s fun and shows them what things were like back then. Like, the dancing. It was fun, bouncy, so who says I need to find some string quartet? We can get a regular cover band or a DJ.”

“Okay, that’s a great idea,” said Eamonn, grabbing a pen and clean napkin off the table and jotting Hope’s ideas down. “What’s next?”

“Good food — the best the town has to offer, the best dishes from each restaurant,” said Hope. “Most of the food would’ve been very rare, if not impossible to find, in the Regency era — but that just makes them more special.”

“Alright, great,” said Eamonn. “Let’s take this to the table.”

Eamonn led Hope by the hand back to her table. Hope bounced ideas off Eamonn and once they had a good idea of what they wanted the event to look like, Eamonn and Hope both started making some phone calls. Before long, all the vendors had been booked for the Christmas celebration.

“I can’t believe we pulled it off,” said Hope.

“I can,” said Eamonn.

Before Eamonn could go further, there was a knock at the door.

“Huh,” said Hope. “I wasn’t expecting anyone. Were you?”

“No…and this smells fishy, like Jerry,” said Eamonn. “Let me get it.”

“I can handle Jerry,” said Hope, but Eamonn had already stood up, so Hope quickly followed after the big guy.

Eamonn opened the door.

The person on the doorstep was not Jerry.

“Hey, Eamonn! Is Hope home?” asked Melissa cheerily.

“Yeah,” said Eamonn warily. “Why?”

“Avery heard you were calling around, setting up this fun event for tomorrow, and wanted to send over a sampler of her Regency themed desserts,” said Melissa, passing a pastry box to Eamonn. “She also wanted me to bring over this.” Melissa pointed to the ground, where she had two suitcases.

“What’re those?” asked Hope.

“She said she had some spare Regency costumes lying around, and given you’re her size, and Eamonn is Krampus’ size, she thought you two might like to wear them tomorrow,” explained Melissa. “Those suitcases contain costumes and other things for you, Hope, and Eamonn, your costumes were sent back to Camp Kringle with Krampus.”

“Wow, thanks,” said Hope. “Can we offer you some tea? It’s not very good, but…”

“Nah, I need to get back to the bakery, to learn these recipes from Avery, but I’ll see you at the party tomorrow! Besides, I get free coffee and pastries because I work at the bakery, silly-pants,” said Melissa. “Merry Christmas, Hope!” Melissa pulled Hope in to give her a hug. Hope was stunned, but she hugged Melissa back.

“Well, I really wish I had those employee privileges,” said Hope as Melissa drove away. “Given the amount of money I spend at Bear Claw Bakery, it’d be great if I’d been able to get the employee total discount.” Hope laughed at her own comment.

“What do you mean, ‘if’ you’d been able to get it?” asked Eamonn, closing the front door.

“It’s nothing,” said Hope, betraying her own lie.

“Come on,” said Eamonn. “You can tell me.”

“I can, but I won’t,” said Hope.

“I’ll trade you,” insisted Eamonn. “You can ask me whatever you want if you tell me what’s up with this discount. Don’t leave a shifter hanging!”

“Fine,” said Hope, crossing her arms. “This is so embarrassing…but…I actually applied for a Christmas temp position at Bear Claw Bakery, the one here, on The Wreath. I thought I could work on my project on the weekends while working at the cafe during the day.”

“No,” said Eamonn.

“Yes,” said Hope. “I applied because I thought it’d be a good way to make some extra money during winter break, as I already prepared my spring syllabi this past summer.”

“Impressive,” said Eamonn.

“Yeah, well, here’s what’s not impressive — I didn’t manage to get the temp job,” said Hope. “Although to be fair, I’ve had Melissa’s coffee and pastries, and she’s a better barista and baker than me.”

“Well, I would’ve never guessed that you applied for a job there,” said Eamonn. “I didn’t hear about it.”

“Avery probably doesn’t even remember that I applied for the position,” said Hope, waving her hand. “Alright. So. I answered your question…so answer mine. Why are you here, Eamonn?”

“You want the whole truth?” asked Eamonn.

“I’m an academic,” said Hope. “The truth is what I’m constantly chasing after. What is a professional football player doing, working as a lumberjack, out here, on The Wreath?”

“I didn’t find my fated mate, and I’m in danger of succumbing to mate madness,” explained Eamonn. “It’s when a shifter becomes their shift — forever. It’s what happens if, well, you don’t find a mate by a certain time…and other things can trigger it too. Anyway. I, uh, apparently hadn’t been good at finding a mate on my own, so my bear Clan, Clan Marron…they sent me to The Wreath, to work for Krampus, to learn some values and find my fated mate.”

“Wait…you’re a bear?” asked Hope. “Yesterday, you were a reindeer, Eamonn.”

Eamonn turned his hand over, exposing his palm to Hope. Hope’s hand flew up to her face. Eamonn’s hand no longer had the strange hoofprint on it. Instead, it had a familiar paw print of…a bear.

“I…I don’t understand,” said Hope. “I thought you were a frikkin’ reindeer! You turned into a reindeer yesterday, Eamonn!”

“I know,” said Eamonn. “You see…because I can’t be trusted with my shift, in case I fall into mate madness, I had to give my shift up, to Krampus, for safe keeping, until I did two things. Number one. I had to get off of The Naughty List. Number two. I have to claim my fated mate.”

“Wait,” said Hope. “The Naughty List? What’s that?”

“Uh, so, ever hear about Santa Claus?” asked Eamonn. “Well, he’s real, and he has some lists. There’s The Nice List and The Naughty List. Until I got off of The Naughty List, I can’t have my shift or my mate mark back. I also…sort of owe Santa Claus a favor.”

“What kind of a favor?” asked Hope. “I can’t believe I actually believe you, but…you’ve given me no reason not to believe you.”

“I have to help pull his sleigh on Christmas Eve, using the power of this certain reindeer…Blitzen,” said Eamonn.

“You know, I may have heard of this ‘Blitzen’ fellow,” joked Hope. “He’s a bit of a celebrity.”

I like this one, said Blitzen. Claim her. That is all.

Why do I have a feeling you’ll have more running commentary? asked Eamonn.

If giving sassy commentary is Naughty, then I don’t want to be Nice, sassed Blitzen.

“So…we have to get you off of The Naughty List,” mused Hope.

“No, ‘we’ don’t. I was on The Naughty List…until the fight yesterday,” explained Eamonn. “I got my mate mark back. I get my shift back whenever I want, like, after The Ride.”

“Man, after The Ride?” asked Hope. “Here I was, hoping I’d get to meet your bear sooner. After all, I’ve met Blitzen — only seems fair of me to meet your bear.”

Being acknowledged — I like her, said Blitzen Can we keep her? Please?

“Wait, is…is that why your mark changed?” asked Hope. “I thought it was because…”

“Because what?” asked Eamonn.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I thought it changed because, well, you’re a shifter, and your mate marks changed when they…well, claimed their mate,” said Hope.

“Who would I have claimed?” asked Eamonn.

“Melissa,” said Hope, turning away.

“Melissa?” asked Eamonn with a laugh. “Why would I claim her? She’s a nice enough girl, but…not my type.”

“Really? Some bubbly, effusive, nice girl, that’s not your type?” asked Hope.

“You know, I do have a crush on someone,” said Eamonn, hands behind his head.

“Oh,” said Hope, dejected. “That…makes sense.”

“‘Course it does,” said Eamonn. “I’m a shifter. Hot blooded. I’m looking for a mate. My biological clock is ticking, sweetheart, and my heart’s set on someone real special.”

“Yeah?” asked Hope. “Who is the lucky lady?”

“Well, she’s the only person in this town that isn’t digging all this Christmas stuff — the only person other than me,” said Eamonn.

“She and I would probably get along,” admitted Hope.

“You two would,” said Eamonn mischievously. “She’s smart — whip-smart, smartest person I’ve ever met. And, she makes me blush. Didn’t know I could do that. And, most importantly…”

“Yeah?” asked Hope.

“She…well, she gives me hope, Hope,” said Eamonn, reaching across the table to take Hope’s hand. He lifted her hand up to his mouth and gave it a gentle kiss. “So, bah humbug, Hope. A very ‘bah’ humbug to you!”

“Wait, you mean —” started Hope.

“Who else?” asked Eamonn, giving Hope’s hand another gentle kiss. “It’s always been you, Hope. Also…that wasn’t my mate mark.”

“Th-that wasn’t?” asked Hope.

“My mark changed from ‘Naughty’ to ‘Nice’ because I went from being Naughty to being Nice,” explained Eamonn. “That was just…an indicator of how I was doing. This is my true mate mark.”

Eamonn unbuttoned his flannel shirt, revealing his firm, broad chest, inch by inch.

Right on Eamonn’s chest, there was a symbol.

It was a Christmas tree.

It was right below the mark that no longer said ‘Naughty,’ a mark that now read ‘Nice.’

“Huh,” said Hope, running her hand over the Christmas tree shape on Eamonn’s chest. “You’ve had this since you were eighteen?”

“Exactly,” said Eamonn. “You know more about shifters than I expected.”

“Well, my roomie back in college was — I guess, still is — a shifter,” explained Hope. “She told me how things work, about how…when you claim a mate, something happens to the mark.” Hope ran her fingers over the dark lines on the edge of the solid black mark on Eamonn’s chest.

“And Christmas trees…they don’t mean anything special to you?” asked Eamonn.

“Not really,” said Hope. “I mean, they’re Christmas trees.”

“Do they mean anything special to Regency folks?” asked Eamonn.

“Not to most folks, but, to some writers, like Jane Austen…all flowers, all plant life, it all had meanings,” explained Hope. “For example — rosemary for remembrance, roses for love, lavender for being alone, sleep, that sort of thing. It’s called floriography – ‘flower writing.’ I’m really rusty on it. Honestly, most of the meanings were either borrowed from other cultures or made up on the spot, if you ask me. I wrote a paper on it back in grad school.”

“Would a Christmas tree have a meaning?” asked Eamonn.

“I mean, it would depend on the species,” said Hope.

“What about evergreens in general?” asked Eamonn.

“Oh,” said Hope. “Yeah, absolutely. Uh…well, so, in areas with both deciduous and evergreen trees, the deciduous trees would lose their leaves every autumn, like pages out of a book, but the evergreens…they kept their leaves or needles or whatever. They were a symbol of life, even in a time where everything around them was dying, a symbol of immortality to some cultures, but also…a symbol of hope.”

“A symbol of what now?” asked Eamonn softly.

“A symbol…of hope,” said Hope.

“Do you hear yourself talking right now?” asked Eamonn, pressing Hope’s hand to his chest.

“My name’s Hope,” said Hope.

“Yup, and that’s a symbol of ‘hope,’ so, you do the math,” said Eamonn.

“I’m your fated mate,” whispered Hope.

“I didn’t need a mark on my chest to tell me that,” said Eamonn.

“But I did,” admitted Hope.

“Why?” asked Eamonn, furrowing his brow.

“Because…well, the first day you rowed across the lake, I saw you, with Melissa, and you went in the bakery with her, and I thought to myself that you two would be a thing, and —” started Hope. “Never mind. It’s silly. You probably don’t remember that.”

“Of course I remember,” said Eamonn. “You were the only other person sitting out there on the back patio, and I wanted to say hello to you, but, Krampus told me to stay on task. I went inside with Melissa, to drop off the Christmas tree, and when I came out, you looked busy. I wasn’t about to bother you, but, whenever I saw you, you had your nose in a book. When Jerry bothered you…that’s when I saw a chance to not only introduce myself to you but make your life easier.”

“Make my life easier?” asked Hope.

“If I’m not allowed to bother you when you’re working, why would Jerry be allowed to do that?” asked Eamonn.

“You…cared about me, before all of this?” asked Hope.

“Of course I did,” said Eamonn. “I don’t know why, but, there was always something special about you, Hope, something that made me want to protect you.”

“I think I know what it was,” said Hope, putting her hand on Eamonn’s chest. Hope’s eyes trailed down Eamonn’s thick pecs and firm abs, all the way down…to his crotch.

“You know what I have to do, to claim you,” said Eamonn.

“Oh, I know,” said Hope. “The bedroom’s behind the red door. The bathroom’s behind the green door.”

“Well, I don’t need to use the bathroom,” growled Eamonn.

“Then I guess you know where to carry me,” said Hope, trying to growl back but failing to sound more threatening than a feral cat.

Eamonn picked Hope up and carried her into the bedroom, which was sparsely furnished and decorated. It had the most critical piece of furniture, the only one required to make it a bedroom — a bed. Eamonn put Hope down on the edge of the bed. He slipped off his flannel shirt, which was already open, and exposed all his torso and arms muscles to Hope.

“Now…in those fancy old books you read, do you like the good guys or the bad guys?” asked Eamonn.

“I like the rakes,” said Hope.

“I always got described as more of a man-’hoe,’” joked Eamonn.

“They’re the bad boys,” explained Hope.

“Oh, then I can do that,” growled Eamonn.

Eamonn ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back as he looked Hope dead in the eyes. He undulated his body as he took unbuttoned his pants. He dropped his pants to the floor and stepped out of them.

Hope had tried to hold it in, but she couldn’t.

She burst out laughing.

“Oh, you think I’m hilarious, don’t you?” asked Eamonn, putting a knee on the bed, separating Hope’s legs. This made the end of the cheap mattress bend. Hope fell forward, caught by Eamonn’s arms…and his leg, which rubbed against her nub. Hope let out a gasp.

“See, I’m just getting started,” Eamonn huskily whispered into Hope’s ear, rocking Hope’s thick hips over his crotch. “Now…you on birth control?”

“Y-yeah, an IUD,” said Hope.

“Good…because a career woman like you, who doesn’t want to be a stay at home, well…if she didn’t have that doohickey in there, she might just end up with a litter of cubs,” warned Eamonn, rocking Hope back onto the bed.

“Is that a threat?” asked Hope, confused.

“No — it’s a warning,” said Eamonn. “Us shifters, well, we’re a fertile folk, and, uh, condom failure rates do not take shifters into account. Check the box. We rip through that latex the way we rip through our clothes.”

“Shit,” cursed Hope.

“Now, now, I thought I was the rake,” said Eamonn, putting a finger to Hope’s lips. “If you curse this close to Christmas, you just might get…on The Naughty List.” Eamonn took Hope’s hand and ran it across his chest, over the mark.

Eamonn ran his hands down to Hope’s jeans. Hope’s ample curves kept the denim pasted to her body. He undid the top button and then, used his mouth to unzip the jeans. He took in the heady scent of her womanhood as he pulled down the zipper with his teeth. He pulled the pants down with his hands and kissed along her thick legs as he revealed her body, inch by inch.

Hope leaned back and gripped the rough flannel sheets of the bed. Eamonn was worshipping every last inch of her body, helping her forget the drama of the day and of the day before. Eamonn’s lips were rough, but his mouth was soft and gentle as it explored her most delicate skin

“Fuck,” begged Hope.

“That is the plan,” said Eamonn, removing his shorts, revealing his manhood.

“Impressive,” admitted Hope.

“Not as impressive as those womanly curves of yours,” said Eamonn, sitting Hope up so he could take off her sweater, followed by her shirt, followed by her bra. “Much better.”

Eamonn looked over Hope. She had soft, curving shoulders that blended into thick upper arms and juicy forearms. Her ample bosom sat over her large stomach, which turned into soft, childbearing hips. Where he had firmness, she had softness. Where he had angles, she had curves.

“So…what do you think?” asked Hope shyly.

“I think it’s surprising you went into academia instead of becoming a supermodel,” said Eamonn.

“Yeah — because traveling the world and eating delicious food and meeting celebrities sounds so much better than spending hours in library basements looking for books that were lost decades ago,” said Hope sarcastically.

“Yeah,” said Eamonn. “It does. I have a lot of places to take you and foods to feed you.”

“And the celebrities?” asked Hope.

“I have a feeling we aren’t going to want anyone crashing our dates,” said Eamonn with a wink. “Wait — is that not a rake-y thing to say? I mean — ‘yeah, babe, we’ll fuck other supermodels in our threesomes.’”

“One — the term is rakish, not, ‘rake-y,’ and two — I’m not a ménage kinda gal,” said Hope.

“Good — because I’m not either,” said Eamonn, holding Hope’s hand up to his chest. “Now…are you ready for things to get rakish or what?”

“You gonna talk a big game, or you gonna show me what you got?” asked Hope.

“I’ll show you a big game,” said Eamonn.

“That makes it sound like you’re gonna shift again,” said Hope, crossing her arms. “Get it? Because reindeer and bears are both big — oh!”

Eamonn suddenly pushed Hope back onto the covers. Hope’s arms flailed in the air as she fell back onto the mattress. Eamonn moved to kneel in between Hope’s legs. He spread them with his arms firmly placed on her soft inner flesh. Eamonn’s mouth had been gentle, but his hands were not. His hands were rough, and they moved roughly against her smooth skin as Eamonn took handfuls of Hope’s doughy skin. Eamonn pried Hope open and saw her natural juices flowing from her hole like honey from a beehive. He took his raging cock and pressed it against Hope’s opening, where it became a ‘raking’ cock, as Eamonn did his best impression of a Regency rake — which was pretty good for someone that didn’t really have any idea of what a rake was, other than the ‘garden variety’ rake.

Eamonn slid into Hope, filling her from entrance to end. Hope could take most of his cock. Eamonn was spreading Hope’s legs, but Hope spread her legs more to allow more of Eamonn’s length in.

“Fuck,” moaned Hope. “Eamonn — it feels bigger than it looks.”

“Did they have big, thick cocks back in the Regency era?” teased Eamonn, rubbing Hope’s clit with one finger in lazy circles as he fucked in and out of her mechanically. “Did they have gals that wanted huge rake dicks back in the Regency era?”

“Yeah, they did,” said Hope blushing. “They still do. Me. It’s me. I want that dick.”

“Good, ‘cause you already got it,” said Eamonn, flexing his cock inside of Hope. “All yours, honeybuns.” Eamonn slapped Hope right on her honeybuns after he said that.

“Fuck,” cursed Hope.

“Tell me, Hope — do most of the works you read from that time have a happy ending?” asked Eamonn.

“Y-yes,” said Hope. “Well, except for cautionary tales.”

“Well, here’s a lesson from me — most stories with shifters still have a happy ending,” said Eamonn, rubbing Hope’s clit even harder.

As Hope came around Eamonn, Eamonn couldn’t hold back. He let out his white heat into Hope. As he did so, his brown eyes flashed amber, like a lighthouse through a pea-soup fog, and another white heat filled the room.

Hope pressed her hand onto Eamonn’s chest and watched as the dark mark flashed bright white underneath her touch. It felt hot to the touch, so hot that it felt ice cold. The mark on Eamonn’s chest was changing from gray to brilliant white, snow white, underneath her touch.

“Eamonn…” started Hope, tears streaming from her face, hitting Eamonn’s chest and turning to steam.

“You’re mine, Hope,” said Eamonn, pulling Hope close as he slid out of her. “You always have been. And I’m yours. I always have been.”

“So I’m…your fated mate,” said Hope.

“Yes,” said Eamonn. “When I first saw my friend from Clan Marron with his fated mate…I never thought I could have that. My Clan Elders, well, they believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself, and they sent me here. It’s been a strange journey, one I never could’ve imagined in a thousand years, one you wouldn’t have read about in a hundred books, but…it led me to you.”

“Is this what it was like, for your friend?” asked Hope.

“Which friend?” asked Eamonn.

“The one that helped ‘capture’ you,” said Hope.

“Oh, you mean the last bad boy to come to The Wreath?” asked Eamonn. “Well…his story went a little differently. He actually ended up finding true love with Avery’s last temp.”

“Huh,” said Hope, furrowing her brow.

“It’s kinda funny,” said Eamonn. “According to Krampus, the bad boy he trains has always ended up with the bakery temp.”

“They…they have?” asked Hope, her stomach churning.

“Yeah, why?” asked Eamonn.

“Eamonn…that means that this, this isn’t meant to be,” said Hope, motioning between Eamonn’s body and her body. “You and I…there’s no way I’m really your fated mate.”

“What do you mean?” asked Eamonn.

“Eamonn, if every other bad boy has ended up with a bakery girl, that means…you’re meant to be with Melissa, not with me,” explained Hope.

“Hope, you’re overthinking this,” said Eamonn.

“Overthinking this is kinda my thing,” said Hope with a huff. “Eamonn, I’m a professor — of English literature. That means that I know how the story goes — and this story, well, it was a cautionary tale after all, about how one stupid woman can think she’s smarter than Fate.”

“Are you a shifter?” asked Eamonn.

“No,” said Hope.

“Are you me?” asked Eamonn.

“Obviously not,” said Hope.

“Then how do you know how this works, what I’m feeling?” asked Eamonn.

“Excuse me?” asked Hope. “Are you calling me stupid?’

“No — but I’m saying this is a topic you don’t know about,” said Eamonn.

“And you think you know about love, Eamonn?” asked Hope. “How many serious girlfriends have you had? How many times have you been engaged?”

“You know what? No,” said Eamonn, getting out of bed and starting to get changed.

“Wait,” said Hope. “Eamonn, I’m sorry, I —”

Eamonn got changed in silence and looked back at Hope, who was sitting in her bed, covers up around her curvy body, watching Eamonn, not sure what to say.

“I’ll see myself out, Hope. By the way, you’re right,” said Eamonn. “I have never been in love, Hope…at least, not before I met you. That’s why I’ve never had a serious girlfriend — because I never wanted to commit to someone I wasn’t in love with. You don’t know everything, but know this — I’ll be here tomorrow, to take you on your date.”