A Snow Leopards' Christmas (Glacier Leopards Book 6) by Zoe Chant (1)

Lillian

Pinterest, Lillian had decided, was the worst invention ever created by womankind.

It was December 22, and Lillian was staring at about a hundred different pictures of gorgeous homemade Christmas wreaths, then looking around at all the evergreen branches she’d carefully placed around the cabin, at the strings of lights she’d gotten Cal, her mate, to hang up, and at the tree in the corner by the window.

She was suddenly certain that it was all wrong. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach when she looked at it. And it wasn’t just morning sickness.

It was glaringly obvious that she’d tried to be as frugal as possible. The ornaments on the tree were the cheapest colored balls she’d seen in the store. The evergreen branches had just been cut and brought in from outside. She hadn’t woven ribbons into them or added berries or little glittery decorations. They were just...branches.

At the time, she’d thought it was a good idea, that it reflected the shifter life: they were so close to nature all the time, so they should have decorations that were as natural as possible.

And, of course, the fact that they were free hadn’t hurt.

Lillian had spent the last two years buried in debt up to her eyebrows, and so she was used to saving every penny she could. She’d paid off a big chunk of it herself, but then when she’d moved in with Cal, her mate, he’d paid off the rest.

She still felt guilty about that. And she was still determined to spend as little as possible. After all, their money had a new purpose now.

That thought made her reach down and press her hand to her belly. Despite everything, she smiled.

She and Cal had agreed that they wanted kids as quickly as possible, since neither of them were getting any younger. They hadn’t used any contraception, and sure enough, just a couple of months after they’d gotten together, Lillian had gotten pregnant. She was eight weeks along now, and although she was tired and nauseated a lot of the time, she was also happier than she’d ever thought she could be.

She was going to be a mother. Cal would be a father. Teri, Lillian’s sister, would be an aunt. There’d be another child running around the pack gatherings, someone for little Emily to lead by the hand and boss around and play with.

Lillian couldn’t wait.

Although she had to admit, the exhaustion and nausea were making Christmas preparations so much harder.

When they’d found out a few weeks ago, Cal had suggested that maybe hosting Christmas should fall to someone else, so Lillian could focus on resting.

But Lillian had wanted to do this for a long time now. She was the pack leader’s mate, and so it was her job to be the hostess. And beyond that, she truly loved the idea of welcoming the pack into her home, providing food, giving them a warm and comfortable environment to relax in.

And their cabin was plenty big enough to hold everyone—they called it a cabin, but it was properly a house that just happened to be up in the mountains. It made sense for them to host Christmas.

Especially since Thanksgiving hadn’t been a big affair; everyone had separated off into their own family groups, and Lillian and Cal had gone to her sister Teri’s place and eaten there. Since Teri’s mate Zach also had family in the pack—his brother Joel, and Joel’s mate Nina—it had made sense to gather there.

But on Christmas Eve, there was going to be a big party for the entire pack, and Lillian and Cal were hosting.

Except Lillian was doing most of the actual preparation. For some reason, Cal didn’t seem very interested in putting it together. Which was maybe just typical male avoidance of all things Pinterest, except Cal was usually happy to talk about things like decorating and cooking. So Lillian didn’t quite understand.

He had seemed to be very busy at work lately. Something about Park management. Cal was absolutely devoted to his job at Glacier National Park; Lillian understood his need to make sure everything was running smoothly there.

It would just be nice if he could put some effort into making things run smoothly here, too.

Lillian shook herself out of the mental complaints. She’d volunteered to do this, and so she was going to, even if she was tired and queasy and her decorations were too simple.

She couldn’t get distracted by decorations right now, anyway. Because the party was two days away and she still couldn’t decide on what exactly she was going to cook.

Ham or turkey? Or maybe pork loin instead? Mashed potatoes or roasted? Cooked vegetables, salad, both? What kind of rolls? Homemade would be best, but Lillian had never made yeasted anything before. Her family growing up had been more a Pillsbury type.

But she wanted the best for her pack.

Plus, dessert. Christmas cookies, obviously, but there should be pie, too. Or cake. Or both?

God, the idea of food was making her eye the bathroom door in anticipation. Eight weeks pregnant was a bad time to be cooking for a crowd.

Also, she didn’t know everyone’s food preferences yet. She’d sent out an email, and followed up after a few days, so she knew that most people weren’t vegetarian or violently allergic to any major foods, but Alethia and Grey still hadn’t gotten back to her.

Alethia actually hadn’t ever officially RSVP’d, either. At Lillian’s request, Cal had checked in with Alethia’s mate Grey at work, and reported back that they’d be coming. But Alethia herself had never responded to any of the emails or messages Lillian had sent out.

It made Lillian worry that she’d done something to offend the other woman. Alethia was a bit of a mystery to her: funny, gorgeous, and stylish, she was everything that Lillian-the-librarian was not.

Alethia ran a clothing store with apparent effortless ease, full of the kind of clothes Lillian would judge too daring to ever put on her own body. She was confident, out-there, always ready to speak her mind and not afraid of anything.

Even though Alethia was probably ten years younger, Lillian was intimidated by her. Maybe especially because she was younger. She’d accomplished so much, and she seemed so sure of herself already.

It was silly, but Lillian didn’t want to send yet another pathetic email chirping, will you please tell me you’re coming to my party?

It was fine. Alethia would come, because Grey had told Cal she would, and if she had any food intolerances or anything, well, that was just too bad. She’d had plenty of opportunity to speak up.

So all that remained was for Lillian to make a decision about what dishes she was going to cook.

And go grocery shopping. And cook them all. And clean everything. Without throwing up. Much.

She wasn’t sure she could do this.

But she had to. And after all, this was just Christmas dinner. She and Cal were getting married in a few months, and Lillian had absolutely refused the expense of a wedding planner. If she couldn’t do this, what would that mean for her wedding?

Just as she was about to start hyperventilating in her own kitchen—over Christmas dinner; were pregnancy hormones really as bad as people said they were?—her phone rang.

Grateful for the distraction, Lillian answered. “Hello?”

“Hi!” came her sister Teri’s voice. Lillian felt her shoulders relaxing immediately. Teri seemed to walk around in her own fluffy cloud of happiness, and it touched everyone she came near.

Even over the phone, apparently.

“What’s up?” Lillian asked, firmly closing her laptop and its monolithic Pinterest perfection.

“Just checking in,” Teri said cheerfully. “About Christmas and all. What should we bring? Wine? Food?”

“Wine would be great,” Lillian said automatically, because after all, that was what people brought.

Then she wondered if she should’ve asked Teri to bring a dish. It would be one less dish Lillian had to worry about.

But no. Lillian wasn’t going to make her baby sister help her in her own kitchen. Teri had hosted Thanksgiving with no trouble, after all. It was Lillian’s turn, and Lillian was going to do herself proud.

“Great,” Teri said. “I guess you probably don’t have much wine lying around right now, huh? Unless Cal’s a big wine drinker and I just never knew.”

The idea of Cal delicately sipping a dry white was pretty comical, and it made Lillian chuckle. “No, he doesn’t drink much, but when he does, he’s a whiskey man.”

“That makes sense,” Teri said. “So how are you? How’s the little bean?”

“We’re both trucking along,” Lillian said. “You know, so far so good.”

“Good.” She could hear the smile in her sister’s voice. “You just let me know if you need any help, though, okay?”

“Of course I will.” Lillian didn’t even look at the kitchen as she said it. It was her problem, and it would all be fine.

They chatted for another few minutes before Teri had to go, and then Lillian was left alone with Schrodinger’s Christmas Dinner. Again.

“It’ll be fine,” she said out loud.

And then her body decided she was too pregnant for any of this, and she hastened to the bathroom with a hand over her mouth.

***

Cal

Cal settled back down at his desk. The latest crisis had been averted—misfiled paperwork, the horror—and it was time to get back to routine.

Which was pretty light, this time of year. December wasn’t a big time for national park-going, particularly not up here at Glacier, which was plenty snowy at other times of year. In the winter, the rangers’ day-to-day tasks pretty much narrowed down to safety: keeping track of where visitors had gone, watching the weather for storms, and ensuring that no one got stuck out in the cold.

And in fact, that had been how two of his people had met, last year. Leah had been driving up near the Park and her car had broken down, stranding her and her baby daughter in the snow. If Jeff hadn’t been out patrolling that night, the consequences might have been tragic. Cal was determined that no tragic consequences would happen under his watch.

So winter could be a time of real crises. But apart from that, it was slow going.

Though Cal had been putting in some long hours anyway. Longer and longer as Christmas got closer.

He felt guilty about it. He knew that Lillian was excited for the holiday, and this would be their first Christmas together as mates. And on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, Cal was going to be there for her, one-hundred-percent. They’d have a party for their pack, and they’d sit by the fire, and it would be lovely.

Though Lillian had asked that they not exchange presents. Which was fine with Cal—he didn’t need any more stuff, anyway—but he wasn’t sure if she meant it or not. After all, Lillian was used to deprivation. Surely there had to be something she wanted and didn’t have.

But he couldn’t think of what it might be. Lillian wasn’t much of a wearer of jewelry or perfume, and Cal didn’t know a thing about that stuff anyway. She loved books, but she got them from the library where she worked, rather than buying them. She didn’t have much attention for frivolous things. It was one of the things Cal liked about her. The closest she got was making the cabin look nice, and Cal had already bought all the things she wanted to decorate with—and that wasn’t just for her, anyway. It was for both of them.

So he was stumped. And there was always the possibility that she’d meant it, and didn’t want anything, and wouldn’t be happy if he gave her something anyway.

He’d been solving this problem by not thinking about it much, which admittedly wasn’t much of a tactic. But the real issue was, Cal had never liked Christmas all that well.

Growing up, it had been a pack holiday, and Cal’s home pack had been, not to put too fine a point on it, a nightmare. Then when he was deployed, Christmas had been a bunch of Marines hiding their homesickness behind dumb joke presents.

Those had been his happiest Christmases, which was probably sad. But once he’d gotten back stateside, and been posted to Glacier, he’d been pretty much alone. And so he’d treated Christmas like any other day, always scheduling himself to be at the Park so the other rangers could have the time off with their families.

He’d gotten used to dismissing Christmas. And every year, all the preparations had irritated him a little more. The music in the stores, the Santas in the malls, the lights all over the houses. It was so much fuss over what was, in the end, just another day.

But he didn’t want to get that built-up cynicism all over Lillian’s holiday. For once in his life, Cal was going to refuse to cast himself as the Grinch. He hadn’t made a single disparaging comment about wreaths or reindeer or any of it, and he was keeping it that way. Lillian didn’t have to know how he felt about Christmas.

But it was easier to do if he spent a lot of time at work.

And when he was at home, he focused on getting Lillian to relax. He’d rub her feet, kiss her belly, talk to the baby, and most of the time she’d fall right asleep, she was so tired.

Even though it was such a short time, it was his favorite part of every day. It didn’t matter that Christmas had invaded the air when he was stretched out in bed with Lillian, his hands stroking slowly over her hipbones as he murmured to their baby.

Lillian didn’t want to start picking out names or planning the nursery until after the first trimester was over, and Cal was respecting that, but he was sure that they didn’t have to worry. His leopard purred in his chest whenever he touched her belly, and he knew that spark of life inside her was strong and healthy.

They were going to have a child. Cal was going to be a father. He was the happiest he’d ever been in his life.

So really, in the grand scheme of things, Christmas didn’t matter much.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. It was a text from Lillian: Can you PLEASE ask Grey if Alethia has any food preferences or allergies? I still haven’t heard back from her. You’re sure she’s coming?

Well, apparently Christmas did still matter some. Cal sighed, stood up, and went to find Grey.

“Nope,” Grey said when Cal had located him and asked the question. “And yeah, we’re coming. Looking forward to it.”

Cal texted Lillian with Grey’s answer, but he paused while typing, noticing Grey fidgeting with a pen on the desk in front of him. “Everything okay?” he asked.

Grey put the pen down immediately. “Fine,” he said.

Grey never fidgeted. He was the coolest, calmest man Cal had ever met. Something was up.

But it wasn’t Cal’s business to pry. That was a principle he’d lived by for a long time.

Lillian had helped him see that the pack considered him a leader, and it was his duty to live up to that, but there was a difference between being a leader and being a busybody. So Cal accepted Grey’s answer at face value, sent off the text to Lillian—adding a love you at the end; when had he become such a sap?

He knew the answer. The moment he’d laid eyes on Lillian Lowell.

***

Alethia

Alethia blew her nose and wiped her eyes, scowling at the eyeliner smeared on the tissue when she pulled it away.

She was going to have to redo all of her makeup now.

It was silly, but that thought almost made her start crying again.

Nope, she told herself fiercely, you’re done. She’d had her little self-indulgent pity party, at work no less, and now it was time to put on her big-girl panties and get back to her damn job.

She stood up in front of the mirror, almost flinched from the horror show that was her eye makeup, then determinedly reached for her purse. She had makeup wipes and she was going to fix this.

Several minutes later, she looked herself in the eye and smiled, satisfied. That was better. She looked like nothing had happened: no tears, no snot, no dumb breakdowns in any bathrooms to see here.

On the way out of the bathroom, she was careful to drop the makeup wipes in the trash so that they covered the cause of the crying jag: a negative pregnancy test.

Alethia shouldn’t have brought it to work. She knew that. She shouldn’t even have bought it. It had been a spur-of-the-moment weakness in CVS.

Grey had suggested that they take a break from testing over Christmas. They didn’t need the disappointment over the holidays, he’d reasoned, and it wasn’t like they weren’t still trying—if they were successful, well, they’d find out next month.

Alethia had agreed with him, because he was right. It had been a year, now, of ovulation tests and doctor’s visits and having sex right at the right time, right now, which made sex surprisingly unsexy. Alethia had come to dread the utilitarian trying-to-conceive nights. So much failure had given both of them a kind of a, ugh, okay, here we go again attitude, which really sucked the fun out of making love.

And every time she tested, it was negative. Every two-week wait was an agonizing upspring of hope—and it got worse every month. She felt like a hypochondriac, trying to sense symptoms of pregnancy in her body, not sure what might be real, and what she was making up.

So she’d agreed with Grey. They didn’t need their Christmas to be another downer.

But then she’d seen the tests in the store, and she knew that this was just about the time it might be showing positive, and she’d bought them.

She shouldn’t have. But she’d been bloated the last few days, and she’d had to take out the garbage a few days early because she could smell it throughout the house, and she’d had some spotting, and her breasts had been feeling tender and sensitive. All early pregnancy symptoms. And she’d never had so many all at the same time before. She knew it was all subjective, and maybe it didn’t mean anything...but she had to check.

And then she couldn’t test this morning, because Grey would know what she was upset about, no question, so she’d waited until she was at work. And of course, that had been a bad idea, too.

Alethia was just the queen of bad ideas, sometimes. She’d been getting better—the store, for example, had somehow turned out to be a great idea—and Grey helped a lot, just by being quiet and supportive and always careful and thoughtful.

But sometimes the bad ideas won.

Alethia took a long, deep breath, and went back out into the store.

Mavis was browsing through the racks outside, with her daughter Nina alongside her. Alethia hurried over to say hello. She hadn’t realized that she’d been in the bathroom long enough for her appointment with Mavis to start.

But as she started to apologize, Mavis shook her head. “No, no. I was just having lunch with Nina, and we decided to stop in here and look at the clothes before you and I had our meeting. They’re so beautiful.”

Alethia smiled—a real smile this time, her disappointment retreating into the background. “Thanks. I’ve been lucky with my suppliers.”

“How do you do all of this?” Nina’s fingers trailed over the silky neckline of a shirt. “I wouldn’t even know how to start.”

“Well,” Alethia started, “I’ve always been into clothes and style, but I never had any money. So I had to be smart if I wanted anything nice.”

She explained how she’d done lots of research on how stores marked up clothing, where to get things secondhand or at warehouse prices, and what “nice” really meant and how it didn’t always correlate with “expensive.”

“So I had a kind of a basic understanding of how it all worked from the shopper’s end, at least,” she finished. She smiled at Mavis. “I’ve needed a lot of help to figure out how the businesswoman’s side works, though.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Mavis said comfortably.

Mavis had been a godsend—a city-trained financial advisor, just falling into Alethia’s lap and insisting on working at a serious discount, just because Alethia had given her daughter some advice.

That wasn’t how Mavis phrased it, of course, but really it had just been a little talk while Nina wasn’t sure what to do about being mated to Joel. Mavis was sure Alethia had saved the relationship, though, and Alethia had had to talk her into accepting any money at all for her professional help.

She and Nina were both going to get discounted clothing for the rest of their lives, too. There was no question about that.

“That’s probably my cue to head out,” Nina was saying. She gave her mother a hug. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Thanks for joining me.” Mavis smiled and hugged her daughter again. Alethia looked away, concentrating on making sure no price tags had accidentally been yanked off of any clothes.

But then Nina said, “See you on Christmas Eve, Alethia! I can’t wait for the party, it’s going to be so fun.”

Alethia smiled and nodded and waved Nina away, then gestured Mavis ahead toward the tiny office in the back of the store. The bell on the door would tell her if any customers came in while they were talking.

And hopefully the meeting would distract her again.

Because Alethia was dreading the Christmas Eve party. She didn’t know how she was going to be able to stand being around Lillian, who’d just found out she was pregnant a couple of weeks ago—after almost no time!—without devolving into a jealous harpy.

Alethia didn’t want to feel so sick and angry at a woman who’d never done anything to her, who seemed kind and thoughtful and an all-around good person. But she did. She’d avoided even speaking to Lillian since the news had come out, because she couldn’t trust herself to keep a happy face on.

She didn’t know how she was going to get through Christmas Eve.

But that wasn’t today’s problem. Today she was talking business with Mavis. Alethia sat down across from her, at her desk—her own desk! At her own business!—and made herself smile. “Okay, let’s get down to it.”

***

Grey

Grey knew something was up the second he stepped inside the shop.

If he was honest, he’d known something was up all day. There’d been a niggling sense of unhappiness, just a background sensation that wouldn’t go away. Grey’d resisted the urge to text Alethia to check up on her several times.

Grey didn’t like to hover, and Alethia didn’t like to be hovered over, and normally that was fine. But today...

Alethia was just closing up as he stepped inside, and when she turned to look at him, her face crumpled.

Grey was across the store in three big strides, catching her up in his arms. “Hey,” he said. “Hey, what is it? What happened?”

“I tested,” she said, and Grey’s heart sank. “I’m sorry. I know we said we wouldn’t. I shouldn’t even have bought the tests. It was dumb. Now I’m going to be all sad for Christmas.”

Grey hugged her tighter, feeling her shoulders shake as she sobbed once, and then her deep inhale as she pulled herself together.

His mate was so strong. But this endless disappointment was wearing her down, Grey could see. It was so hard for her, every month, trying to read her own body and tell the future, until she finally had to accept that it wasn’t happening, again.

Grey tried to support her, as best he could. But he felt it, too. He wanted a child with a deep, fierce longing—Alethia’s child, with her spark and determination and take-no-prisoners attitude toward life. Boy or girl, it didn’t matter, he just wanted to see what sort of person the two of them could make.

But both of them were starting to doubt that it would ever happen. The doctors had said there was nothing wrong, that they just had to keep trying. But month after month of negatives...

Alethia pulled back and started carefully dabbing away the tears at the corners of her eyes. Her makeup was dramatic today, accentuating her long lashes and her full lips. Grey leaned in to kiss her gently. “I love you.”

“I love you.” She smiled up at him, and if it was a little wobbly, well, he could tell it was still real.

He stroked a thumb across her cheek. “I hate how much this hurts you.”

Her smile turned wry. “Maybe you should start searching me for contraband every morning so that this doesn’t happen again.”

Grey raised his eyebrows, glad for the shift in mood. “Maybe I just need to distract you every morning so you forget to bring the test with you.”

“That,” Alethia said, “sounds like a solid plan to me.”

Grey took her hand, and they started for the door together. Alethia’s step had some spring to it again, and Grey was happy to see it.

Even if there was still that pang of sadness, lingering in his chest.

***

Lillian

Cal had worked late again.

Lillian had gotten a text from him saying that she should go ahead with dinner. She hadn’t been hungry, although she’d forced herself to at least drink some water and have some crackers for the baby’s sake.

Then she’d put together a menu. She was going to need to shop for all of this tomorrow, after all, so it had to happen now.

Ham. Potatoes. Ingredients for rolls—they didn’t look too hard to make, and she’d get a can or two of Pillsbury in case of disaster. Salad. Veggies to roast. Butter, sugar, flour, fruit, milk, powdered sugar, more butter...

Just looking at it all had made her tired, but she had the list, so she went to bed early. Very early.

She slept through Cal coming home, but woke abruptly in the middle of the night, sure she was about to throw up.

She breathed carefully, slowly, afraid to move, until the feeling receded into the baseline sick nausea that she was, unfortunately, starting to get used to.

Lillian looked at the clock. 2:27.

Cal was breathing deeply next to her, dead to the world. Lillian eased herself carefully out of bed, padding downstairs.

The list was sitting on the kitchen table. Lillian looked it over.

Crap, she’d forgotten eggs. She wrote them in at the end.

Then, of course, she was wondering what else she’d forgotten. What if she was halfway through a recipe and realized she was missing an ingredient? She couldn’t ask Cal to run to the store, because Cal was working all day tomorrow, again.

There should probably be Christmas music at the party, too, she realized suddenly. Cal wasn’t very into music, and so he didn’t have a sound system or speakers in the cabin. Would a laptop playing a Christmas radio station be enough?

None of this was quite how she’d wanted. When she’d made the plan, Lillian had envisioned herself as a gracious hostess, providing everything her guests could want, showing the pack that their leader’s mate could be a leader in her own right.

Lillian had started out on the opposite foot with the rest of the pack: they’d all had to show up and help her with the mountain lion shifters who’d been threatening her for money. She’d been truly grateful for their support, then. Without that display of force, of pack solidarity, she was sure the mountain lions wouldn’t have backed off.

Now she wanted to show the pack that she could give them something too. A place to go, a beautiful home with good food and a listening ear. She wanted to be worthy of the wonderful people she’d met and admired because of her relationship with Cal.

She didn’t want to give them some shoddy, slapdash, thrown-together party. Everything needed to be just right.

Maybe she could find some cheap speakers while she was out shopping for food tomorrow. There had to be something available that would be better than a laptop and easy to hook up.

She should stop by the craft store and find a few better decorations, too. Just a few, so it would look nicer.

As the clock ticked forward towards 3 AM, Lillian picked up her pen and started adding to her list.

***

Nina

Nina came awake suddenly in the darkness. The cabin door was just closing behind Joel, her mate.

But he was on the inside of it, so he must have just come home. “Were you out running?” Nina asked sleepily.

“Mm-hmm.” Joel slipped out of his clothes and came over to get in bed with her. Nina shivered at his cold toes. “Sorry to wake you.”

“I’m not.” Nina slid closer to him. They were both light sleepers, and both had occasional nightmares, so she was no stranger to late-night runs through the mountains, or conversations in the darkness. “Good run?”

She felt him nod. “Out over the mountains. Snow felt good. Shifting in the winter is the best.”

Nina knew what he meant. As a snow leopard, the cold just...mattered less. She could be shivering and miserable as a human, but once she shifted, it was like she had her own personal heated blanket.

When she’d been drifting around between towns, back before she came to Glacier, she’d spent as much as possible of the winters in snow leopard form. It was safer. It hadn’t been as fun, back then.

But now she had a snug, warm cabin to come home to, so she only shifted when she felt like an exhilarating dash through the snowy mountainous forests where they lived.

Joel traced a finger down the bridge of her nose, then over her cheek. “I barely saw you today.”

Nina bit the finger lightly. “We were on opposite shifts. You knew that.” Joel had worked early, and Nina had closed the diner tonight.

“I know. But I didn’t get to hear about your day.”

Nina smiled at him. Joel believed strongly that they should spend time together every evening, check in with each other when they could, and talk about anything that was on their mind. It had been strange to Nina at first, after spending so many years completely on her own. But it was a relief, too.

She always knew that someone would care if she was upset, would help her if she was struggling, and would be happy at her triumphs. It felt like there was a foundation to her life, a bedrock that had been missing ever since she’d left her parents’ house at sixteen.

“I had lunch with my mom,” she started, and Joel smiled.

“How is she?”

Joel loved Nina’s mom. He admired her no-nonsense attitude, and Nina knew he secretly loved the way she treated him like a wayward young man. He’d lost his parents at a young age, and having someone mother him, even though he pretended to scowl, seemed to fill a missing piece inside him.

“She says she’s great,” Nina said. “She’s got some clients in town, and she says the work is going well. There are a lot of small businesses around here that could use financial advice, and word is getting out.”

“But?” Nina could see Joel’s questioning expression even in the dim light.

“I just worry about her being all alone,” Nina said quietly. “But she insists that it’s not a problem. She says she felt stifled living with my dad, and she’s happy for a chance to stretch her wings. But I think she’s lonely. This is such a tight-knit town, and she’s not a shifter...I don’t know.”

“She has you,” Joel pointed out.

“And you,” Nina reminded him, and he quirked a smile. “But a daughter isn’t the same as a partner. And after spending so many years with my dad...she deserves a good one.”

Nina’s father had kicked her out when he’d found out she was a shifter. Her mom had stayed with him for all those years, she said, because she wanted to be there if Nina ever decided to come home.

Six months ago, she’d kicked him to the curb and moved here to Middle of Nowhere, Montana to be near Nina. And Nina was so happy and grateful to have her mother back again...but she didn’t want Mavis to sacrifice all the other parts of her life, just to be near Nina.

“Maybe she could try Internet dating?” Nina speculated doubtfully. “I don’t really know how it works, though.” Her mother was better at technology than she was, since her job required it, and Nina hadn’t had much access to a computer as she drifted from town to town looking for a pack. But maybe she could just suggest the idea.

“Hey.” Joel kissed her. “Your mom’s a smart lady. She’s not going to let anything stand in the way of what she wants. And right now, what she wants is to be near you.”

Despite her worries, that sent a flush of warm happiness through Nina’s chest. “I guess you’re right.”

Joel kissed her again, and thoughts of her mother faded away as they shared long, slow kisses, curled together under their covers.

Nina luxuriated in the feeling of Joel, pulling him close and opening her mouth to his, wanting every inch of him against every inch of her. Sometimes she felt like she’d never have enough of him. His body, his kisses, and his quirk of a smile and warm, kind eyes. His everything.

She rolled to her back and pulled him along with her; his kisses turned hot and she felt his fingers on her inner thigh. She let her legs fall apart as he touched her slowly, his fingers massaging her clit until each of her breaths had a hint of a moan to it.

He dipped his fingers down to play around her entrance, which made Nina wild every time. She reached between them and took hold of his erection, pushing her hips into his hand as she caught the hint of slickness at the tip of his cock and stroked her slippery finger all around the head.

It only took a minute of that before Joel swore in that deep tone that always sent a shiver through her. “God, I need you,” he said.

“Come on, then,” Nina insisted, her own voice breaking as he took his fingers away.

She grabbed his hips as he slid upward, teasing her entrance with his cock for just a second before he pushed inside.

They groaned together, moving instinctively toward the deepest angle. When he was fully seated inside her, Nina shuddered with a feeling larger than just physical. This moment, when they were joined as completely as they could be, shook her to the center of her being, every time.

Then Joel started to move. Nina lifted her hips to meet him, and they found a rhythm together, chasing their desire together, catching the shocks of pleasure and riding them as one. Joel’s cock stroked over her most sensitive places, and at the deepest part of each thrust, he rolled his hips and sent sensation surging through her.

Soon, it was too much. Nina felt it coming, the wave of orgasm building with each thrust. Not this one—not this one—she teetered on the edge, fingernails digging into Joel’s shoulders, as he drove into her one more time and she fell into climax. Her inner muscles clenched tight in spasms, and she could hear Joel’s choked groan through the ringing in her ears as he came deep inside her.

Slowly, they caught their breath, relaxed their hold on each other, and came back to themselves, in their little cocoon of blankets, safe in their cabin in the mountains.

“I love you,” Nina murmured, so full of happiness that she thought she might just melt into a pool of contentment, right here.

“I love you,” Joel echoed, and kissed her temple, then held her close until she drifted off to sleep.

***

Alethia

Alethia woke up determined to have a good day. She ignored the pregnancy test sitting in the bathroom—even though the little voice in her head was whispering yesterday was a little early, maybe today is the day it’ll start showing. No. She wasn’t making that mistake again today.

Instead, she had breakfast with her husband, kissed him goodbye, and went to work. And then, in the breaks between customers, turned her thoughts to Christmas.

What with all the work she’d been putting into the business, and avoiding thinking about Lillian’s party, Alethia hadn’t been focused on Christmas much. But now it was December 23, and she didn’t have a present for Grey yet.

He was such a hard man to shop for. If he needed something, he generally bought it himself. He wasn’t into fun little novelty items or anything purely decorative. In order to get him a birthday present, Alethia had had to pay close and careful attention to how he talked about his tool set, repeating the names of the things he seemed to want under her breath until she could note them down.

But she didn’t want to do tools again. And whenever she asked him what he wanted for a present, he’d just kiss her and say, “I have everything I want right here.”

Which was sweet, and made her smile, but was not helpful for her shopping list.

So on her lunch break, Alethia put the Closed, back soon! sign up in the shop window and went out to do some shopping.

The town didn’t have much to offer. Alethia’s clothing store was itself an attempt to bring some more exciting options in, both for locals and for tourists. She stopped in at the hardware store (cleverly disguised by a sign proclaiming it to be Gina Rossellini, Chiropractor, which had never been changed after the building was sold; that had taken her a while to figure out, the first time she’d wanted a present for Grey). But after a few minutes in there, she had to admit that she wasn’t as current on Grey’s tool needs as she had been, and had no idea what he might want right now.

Plus, if he did want something, he’d probably already bought it, with as little fanfare as possible.

So she admitted hardware defeat and wandered back toward the center of town. And saw, standing outside the grocery store with a full cart and a defeated expression, Lillian Lowell.

Alethia seriously considered just turning around and walking the other way. But she was going to have to talk to Lillian sometime—tomorrow, even, at the party. And Lillian, God willing, wasn’t going to get any less pregnant for a while, and eventually there’d be the baby to meet and coo over.

She was just going to have to deal with it, like a grown woman. Her heart couldn’t break every time she saw a pregnant woman or a baby. That was no way to live.

So she ignored the ache inside her chest and marched on forward. Lillian looked up only when Alethia was almost on top of her, and then did a visible double-take.

“Oh, Alethia! I—I didn’t see you there. I’m sorry. I just...” She looked back down at her cart, then took a deep breath. “Hello. It’s nice to see you.”

Alethia frowned. Lillian had had to pull herself together to manage that greeting. It was obvious she was upset about something. “Lillian, are you all right?”

Lillian nodded firmly. “Fine. I’m fine. It’s just—” She stopped.

Alethia took a step forward. “It’s just what?”

Lillian took another deep breath. “The store is out of hams,” she said, her tone determinedly neutral. “That’s all. I’ll have to find somewhere else. Another town. Or get a turkey instead. They still had a couple of turkeys. But then I’ll have to change the menu—stuffing, cranberry sauce, gravy...”

She blinked quickly...as though fighting back tears? “Anyway, it’s not a problem. I just have to drive to another store.”

“Another store that sells Christmas hams,” Alethia said. “You might have to go a ways.” After all, she’d just been thinking about how Glacier was a wonderful place, but its retail opportunities were extremely few.

“It’s not a problem,” Lillian repeated. “I have to do the desserts today, but I can just—I can just stay up a bit later...” Her voice trembled, and then steadied.

“Is Cal helping you?” Alethia asked cautiously.

Lillian shook her head. “He’s at work. It’s been very busy.”

It hadn’t been very busy. Alethia knew it hadn’t, because Grey had commented on how he’d spent most of yesterday wandering through the Park checking on low-priority maintenance issues, just because there was nothing real to do.

“Lillian, are you doing all of the cooking yourself?” Alethia tried to calculate how much that would be. Christmas dinner for eleven people?

“Well,” said Lillian, “yes. I’m hosting the party, after all.” She looked at Alethia. “Grey said you didn’t have any food allergies, is that right? I want the menu to be fine for everyone.”

Guiltily, Alethia remembered seeing the email from Lillian with questions about the party, clicking out of it, and promising herself she’d get to it later. And then never getting to it.

“No food allergies,” she said. “But—did you ask us to bring anything?” She could’ve missed something like that.

Looking at Lillian’s pinched, exhausted face, and the way her hands were white-knuckled on the grocery cart, Alethia felt suddenly and intensely ashamed of how she’d been ignoring the party.

“No,” Lillian was saying, “no need to bring anything. Or you could bring wine, I suppose. Or eggnog.” She frowned. “Maybe I should make eggnog. You can make it, can’t you?”

“I think so,” Alethia said distractedly. “Lillian, you look like this is stressing you out. Maybe I could go get a ham for you after work? I could bring it by your place—”

“No, no—I couldn’t ask you to do that. I have today off. I can do it.” Lillian stared down at the contents of her grocery cart. Alethia could practically see her calculating how long it would take to cook everything that was in there.

The party was in just over twenty-four hours. Plenty of time, theoretically, but looking at how pale Lillian was, and how upset she clearly was about the ham...

Alethia made a decision. “Lillian, I’m not taking no for an answer,” she said firmly. “I’ll go get a ham after I close up the shop. You don’t need to worry about it at all, all right? Go home and start the desserts or whatever it is you need to get done today.”

“You shouldn’t—” Lillian started.

“Nope,” Alethia interrupted. “I should. We’re all coming to this thing, right? It’s only right we all help out a little. I’m sorry I haven’t been good at communicating with you about it all. It’s been—” and now her voice was wavering—“kind of a hard month.” Year. “But I can definitely find you a ham. No problem.”

Lillian gave her a tiny smile. “Oh, good. When you didn’t get back to me, I thought—well, I didn’t know what to think.” Then the smile disappeared. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean that it was good you’re having a tough time. Would you like to talk about it? If there’s anything I can do—”

Looking at this exhausted, stressed-out, pregnant woman offering to help Alethia with any of her problems, she forgot to be jealous.

Lillian wanted to help her. Well, she couldn’t; no one could. But Alethia could help Lillian.

“Go home,” she said gently. “I’ll come by later, all right?”

Lillian nodded faintly. “All right.”

Alethia watched to make sure she got to her car all right, and then she set off for her own car.

Someone had some explaining to do.

***

Cal

Cal was idly sorting through paperwork when there was a knock at the door. He frowned at it; usually, he could tell who was on the other side just by the sound of it, but this one wasn’t familiar.

Determined, though. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Alethia strode inside. Grey, her husband, was behind her; he raised his eyebrows in a subtle, No idea.

“Thanks,” Alethia said over her shoulder. “I think I should have a word with Cal in private.” She fixed him with an intense gaze, made even more intimidating by her dramatic eye makeup.

Cal set his paperwork slowly aside. “All right,” he said. “Grey, why don’t you let us alone to talk, then.”

Grey retreated silently, closing the door behind him, and Cal was left alone with Alethia.

“What brings you here?” he asked her mildly.

“Would you care to explain,” she said in a steely voice, “why I just ran into your mate on the verge of tears in the grocery parking lot, telling me she was doing all the cooking and prepping for tomorrow’s Christmas party alone, because the Park has, and I quote, ‘been very busy’?”

Cal found himself speechless.

“Do you have any idea how much work she has to do for this?” Alethia pressed. “My sister-in-law used to drive us both crazy coming up with drinks and snacks for a book group. Lillian’s cooking dinner and dessert for eleven people, and she’s—” her voice caught—“pregnant. She looked exhausted. I was almost afraid to let her drive home alone.”

Cal was immediately struck by the urge to call Lillian and make sure she was okay. His hand twitched toward his phone.

Alethia leaned forward in her chair. “So where the hell have you been? Because I know the Park hasn’t been keeping you busy.”

“I didn’t realize it was so hard for her,” Cal heard himself say. “I thought she was enjoying it.”

Alethia sat back, not looking amused. “Then you need to pay closer attention to your mate, mister.”

Cal was going back over the last week or so in his head. He’d been getting home late—rubbing Lillian’s feet—listening to the baby—and then she’d fall asleep. Everything had seemed so relaxed and easy, but that was because she was already dozing off by the time he got home from work.

Which meant she was exhausted enough to be falling asleep on her feet by eight or nine o’clock. Cal hadn’t put that together before.

He hadn’t even been home for dinner in a few days. Had she been eating? Cal had assumed she was cooking up a storm, but he hadn’t actually noticed anything other than the decorations. And she’d mentioned some morning sickness—all-day sickness, she’d said wryly, and Cal had asked if he could do anything, and she’d said no.

And of course he couldn’t do anything to make her pregnancy symptoms disappear, but he could have been there for her more, instead of giving in to his own desire to pretend Christmas wasn’t happening.

“I should get home,” he said, checking the clock. Well, it was early, but he’d worked a hell of a lot of extra time in the last couple weeks. And there was nothing pressing to take care of. He started collecting his things.

Across from him, Alethia nodded in satisfaction and stood. “Grey should be just outside. You can let him know you’re heading out early.”

“I’ll do that,” Cal said, a hint of amusement at her take-charge attitude making it through his worry.

But even that slipped away as he picked up the phone, dialing Lillian’s cell. Straight to voicemail.

Cal hoped to God she hadn’t been in an accident. I was almost afraid to let her drive, Alethia had said.

He was getting home, now.

***

Lillian

Lillian pulled into the driveway, got out of the car, and stared at the bags and bags of groceries in the trunk. Even carrying them all inside seemed like something she’d need Hercules’ help for.

She could do it, she told herself. She carried groceries all the time. Sure, she desperately wanted a nap, but she wasn’t going to get one, so it was time to get to work.

The first bag wasn’t too heavy. She left the door open to make it easier, even if the cold was going to get in, and trudged back out through the snow for the second.

Four trips. One bag at a time. This was dumb. It was just groceries.

Finally, she got them all inside. Then she sat down in the kitchen and wondered if she’d ever get up again. All she wanted to do was sleep.

But she had Christmas cookies to bake.

She remembered back at the beginning of December, she’d thought about baking cookies. They’d just found out about the baby then, and she’d thought, with a flood of joy, that Cal could put up decorations while she made cookies, and maybe they’d decorate them together, and talk about the sort of cookie cutters they should buy for when the baby was old enough to help...

Lillian looked around the empty, cold cabin, at the piles of groceries on the counters, the plain branches placed so carefully here and there, the tree with lights but almost no decorations, since neither of them had many of their own.

She started to cry. She couldn’t help it.

Stop it! she told herself fiercely. This is stupid! Crying over cookies? And a few decorations? What sort of crazy person was she? She had a wonderful mate, a comfortable home, and a baby on the way. And a community of people all coming together tomorrow, for Christmas Eve. She had no reason to cry.

And she didn’t have time to cry. She had one million things to do. She’d even forgotten to get more decorations, what with the ham crisis...

But she couldn’t stop.

She’d just determined that she was going to get up and start working on cookies even if she was still crying, because she couldn’t waste any more time, when the door burst open.

Lillian choked on a sob. Cal was standing in the doorway, his hand white-knuckled on the knob.

“Lillian,” he said, his voice rough with concern. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Humiliating as it was, Lillian couldn’t get herself together enough to answer. She just shook her head, tears still flowing down her cheeks.

Cal shut the door and strode quickly over to her chair. He took her hands in his and pulled her up into his arms, wrapping her up tight and easing her head down onto his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “It’s going to be all right. I’ll help you with whatever’s wrong.” Then he tensed. “Is something really wrong? Is the baby okay?”

Lillian pulled back immediately, looking him in the eye to say, “Nothing’s wrong with the baby.” His shoulders relaxed, and she continued, embarrassed, “Nothing’s wrong with me, either. It’s just all...a little overwhelming.” She looked helplessly around the kitchen once again. “I’ll figure it out.” Then she frowned. “What are you doing home? Are you all right?”

“Lillian...” Cal seemed to cast about for words, and not finding them, brought her hands up to his mouth and kissed them, one after the other.

The old-fashioned gesture, the love in every inch of his body, made Lillian melt. A few more tears leaked out.

Cal reached up and caught them tenderly with his thumb, wiping them away. “What’s overwhelming? Tell me.”

“It’s stupid,” Lillian insisted.

Cal shook his head. “If it’s making you cry, it’s not stupid. In fact, if you were anyone else, saying my mate was crying over something stupid, I’d have to take some serious issue with that.” He touched her shoulder, settling his warm, big hand into the supportive gesture. His thumb stroked her collarbone. “Come on, now. What’s wrong?”

Lillian let out her breath in a sigh. “It’s just too much. The food, the decorations, music—crap, I forgot to look for speakers—and they were out of hams! Alethia said she’d get one, but what if she can’t find one, and I have to make all the desserts today so the oven is free for tomorrow, but there’s still all the side dishes, and the ham, and I don’t know if there’s time—”

Another tear spilled out. Cal pulled her in, making a soft soothing noise.

“Okay,” he said, and the calm confidence in his voice made Lillian relax immediately. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

Lillian smiled helplessly into his shoulder, even as her eyes leaked a little more. “What are we going to do?”

“First,” Cal said, pulling back to look at her, “I’m gonna apologize. Here we go. You ready?”

Lillian’s instinct was to protest, say he didn’t need to apologize, but he looked so serious that she bit it off. Instead, she just nodded.

“I,” said Cal, “am so sorry that I haven’t been here for you. I’ve been working late when I didn’t even have to, and I’ll explain why in a minute, but right now it doesn’t matter why. It was a cowardly thing to do, and it meant I was leaving you to do all this yourself. That’s not all right. I’m sorry you haven’t had your mate here to help you, like he should have been.”

Lillian bit her lip and took a steadying breath. “Apology accepted,” she managed. She was surprised at how much better she suddenly felt. Just knowing that Cal wanted to be here with her, that he felt bad that he hadn’t been, was enough to make the hot, aching feeling behind her eyes start to recede.

“Okay,” Cal said. “Next thing. Why didn’t you tell me it was so hard? I don’t want you feeling like you have to work yourself to death for a party.”

“It’s not just a party!” Lillian said, more vehemently than she’d meant to. Then she sighed. “It’s my chance to show everyone that I can be a good...you guys don’t seem to have a word for it. Pack leader’s mate. Den mother. Something. I want to do that, I want to pay back what the pack’s given me, and show them I can help them if they need it. I thought that this could be a good way to start in that direction.” She wiped her eyes. “And you didn’t—you weren’t very interested. That’s all. And you were busy at work...”

But he hadn’t been busy at work. Why had he pretended he was?

“You don’t have to pay anything back,” Cal was saying. “Just having you here is helping them already. You thought up the roundtable meetings, for Pete’s sake—that’s changed the whole pack for the better.” He stroked some escaped tendrils of hair away from her damp cheeks.

Lillian hadn’t quite thought of her idea about regular town-hall-style pack meetings in that light. And it really wasn’t the same thing. She frowned. “I still want to do this.”

“I don’t want you to cry about it,” Cal said fiercely. “So let’s talk about how we can make that not happen.”

Lillian knew exactly what would help with that. “So let’s talk about why you were working late, then.”

Cal took a deep breath. “Yeah. That was the third thing.”

“Well?” Lillian’s tone was firmly expecting, but she still felt shaky and uncertain inside. Why had Cal chosen to work extra hours rather than making Christmas cookies at home with her?

“The truth is,” Cal said quietly, “I don’t like Christmas much. Don’t have a lot of good memories of it, never really thought it was worth all the effort.”

Lillian took that in. “You don’t like Christmas?” Then she frowned. “Why didn’t you say something, then? We’re hosting a Christmas party for the whole pack! I wouldn’t have offered to do it if I’d known you didn’t like Christmas.”

“You seemed so excited about it, and I just...” Cal shook his head. “I thought you could do your Christmas thing, and be happy, and I’d just keep my nose out of it, and everything would be fine.”

“That’s not what it’s about!” Lillian felt a fresh prickle of tears. “You should’ve told me. I can’t believe I’ve been doing all this and you’ve been hating every second...”

“No—Lillian, no.” Cal pulled her in. “I love that you’ve been putting so much work into it. I love the idea of having the whole pack get together, like a family. It’s just the Christmas part I don’t like.”

“Christmas is about celebrating with your family.” The tears were receding, and Lillian felt her despair fading, and being replaced with a kind of exasperated relief. Not liking Christmas was a lot easier to handle than some kind of true relationship problem.

Suddenly the ham, the decorations, and the music seemed much less important, in the face of making sure Cal wasn’t unhappy with the whole deal.

She squeezed Cal’s hand and continued, “Whether that’s your blood family, your family by marriage, your family by choice...it’s about getting together with the people you love and showing them how much you love them. The whole meaning of Christmas is love. It’s even in the Advent weeks—hope, love, joy, peace.” She frowned. “It sounds like we haven’t had any of those so far, this year.”

Cal rested a hand on her belly. “We have lots of hope.”

Lillian gave him a look. “I meant for Christmas. Don’t change the subject.”

His mouth quirked. “Sorry.”

Although then Lillian had to put her hand over his, softening at the thought of what was under their palms. “Though of course we have hope. And love, and joy, and peace, and so much more, for the baby.”

“I suppose Christmas is supposed to be about babies, too,” Cal said reflectively.

“Yes!” Lillian said. “That’s what I was thinking. I thought we could—spend time together, decorating and cooking and talking about the future. That’s all.” She breathed, steadying herself further, trying to revise some of her expectations. “But we don’t need Christmas to do that. Maybe we can set aside some time in the New Year.”

She still would have to do the party, of course. The thought of all the work ahead of her was still daunting.

But now that she knew Cal did want to be here with her, that it was just the season that was getting him down, it seemed a lot more manageable.

It did make her somewhat wistful. She’d always wanted a nice, happy Christmas, without her mother breaking down over something small and blaming everyone around her. No shouting or angry recriminations. She’d thought that this was her chance, now that she’d gotten away from her toxic childhood home.

But it was all right. Sometimes Christmas made people unhappy. They’d just have to make their own traditions at some other time of year.

Cal was shaking his head, though. “No. No, I want you to have a nice Christmas.” His smile quirked again. Lillian loved that little upward twist of his mouth, and had since the first time she saw it. “I’m not going to be the Grinch in this holiday special.”

Lillian wanted to protest. She wasn’t going to make him do Christmas if he didn’t want to.

But...well, there was the party. They couldn’t tell the pack not to show up.

So it was time to think. Lillian scrubbed a hand over her face, finding that her tears had completely dried up.

It was funny how now that they were working as a team, nothing seemed so bad.

“What don’t you like about Christmas?” she asked finally. “Is there something we could do differently, so it would be better?”

“Nothing specific, I guess,” Cal said slowly. “It always bothered me how commercial it is. And how it’s as though—the whole world’s forcing you to spend time with people you’d probably rather avoid. Pay for presents they probably don’t want. Smile and sing carols even if you’d rather just...shift and get away.”

Lillian pictured a younger Cal, in that awful pack where he’d grown up. Dragged to some kind of Christmas gathering where everyone had to tell his old, vicious alpha Merry Christmas. Probably that alpha had demanded presents from the whole pack, too.

“I don’t want presents,” she offered. “I told you that.”

Cal linked their fingers together, still resting lightly on her belly. “Did you mean that, really? Because I’ve always had the impression that when women say they don’t want presents, they do want presents.”

Lillian twitched in distaste. “So I’m supposed to be a liar just because I’m a woman?”

Cal’s eyes went wide, and she had to repress a laugh as he visibly went over what he’d just said and realized the problem with it. “That—wasn’t quite what I meant.”

“If that’s the case, I don’t know how I could possibly tell you that I don’t want a present,” she pointed out. “Secret code? Semaphore?”

He laughed a little. “Okay. I guess I should assume that you mean what you say.”

“Please.” She smiled back. “So no presents, okay? Take whatever money you might have spent on a necklace or what-have-you, and get something for the baby. And tomorrow isn’t for presents, either. I don’t want to make people buy things if they’d rather not. It’s just to spend time together and eat food and enjoy ourselves.”

“Hard to be a Grinch about that,” Cal reflected. “I suppose my thinking’s been influenced by the past, somewhat. No one has to force me to hang around the pack. They’re good kids, all of them. It’ll be nice to have them all together in our house.”

Lillian smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

Then she looked around, remembering how much work there was to do.

“Oh, no,” Cal said warningly.

She looked back at him. “What?”

“I know that look,” he said. “That’s the too much look. I’m going to help you with this. And come to think of it—” He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Who are you calling?” Lillian tried to lean forward to see the screen, but he held it out of her reach. “Cal!”

His smile broadened as he held it to his ear. “Teri, hi.”

“Oh, Cal—” He’d brought out the big guns.

“Yeah, turns out Lillian’s been taking on a lot for this party, and she’s not feeling too well right now because of the baby—you would? Great.” A long pause. “That sounds good. I hear Alethia was going to go get a ham, so you might talk to her. Sure. Sure. Let me know.”

Cal hung up, and turned back to Lillian. “Teri’s going to muster the troops. She said she’d get some things going tonight, and then tomorrow everyone would come over early and we could all work on cooking and decorating together.”

Lillian had been about to protest—as overwhelming as it all was, she still wanted to do this, to contribute to the pack’s Christmas—but at Cal’s final words, she stopped. “That...sounds lovely, actually.”

Cal grinned. “Thought so.”

Lillian leaned forward and kissed him. “What would I do without you?”

“Here’s hoping neither of us ever has to find out.” Cal kissed her back. His eyes had that silver sheen that she saw whenever he was particularly happy.

“So what should we do tonight?” she asked, unable to leave the practicalities behind entirely. There had to be something.

But Cal was shaking his head. “Tonight there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I was going to do cookies,” she said.

“Do you have cookie cutters?”

She nodded. “Stars and Santas and angels and candy canes—”

“Okay,” he said. “How about this: you find the recipe and tell me what to do, and maybe eat a sandwich while you’re at it. I’ll make up the cookies, and then we can cut them out together.”

“I can’t sit here and watch you work,” she protested.

“You won’t be watching,” Cal said seriously. “You’ll be managing.”

And Lillian burst out laughing. “All right. You win.”

He kissed her again, softly. “I do.”

So that’s what they did. Lillian sat at the table nibbling at the many, many finger foods Cal had put out for her—she had a feeling of foreboding, thinking of what Cal might do as she got more visibly pregnant; although she supposed she wouldn’t say no to more footrubs. Meanwhile, Cal moved around the kitchen, following the directions Lillian read out to him, mixing up the cookie dough.

“Now it has to chill in the fridge for at least two hours,” Lillian said finally.

“Huh.” Cal wrapped the dough in plastic wrap and set it in the refrigerator, coming over to collect the remains of Lillian’s snack and putting them away too. “What do you suppose we could do until then?”

His eyes had taking on a tinge of heat, and Lillian was suddenly aware that they hadn’t had sex in over a week. Maybe two. She’d just been so tired and nauseated, and he’d been at work so much...

Well, she didn’t feel tired or nauseated right now. The only feeling in her stomach was a growing heat at the way Cal was looking at her.

He took hold of her hand, and drew her up from her chair. She leaned into the heat of his body, and he kissed her mouth with slow, serious attention, until her knees went weak. She clutched at his shoulders—she could never get over how broad they were, how strong he was.

As if he’d read her mind, he twisted to the side, breaking the kiss, and lifted her up in his arms, bridal-style. Lillian let out a noise that might, possibly, have been described as a shriek. “Cal!”

His eyes twinkled at her. “What?”

She considered what she might say. Finally, she settled on, “Nothing. Upstairs, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He started forward. Lillian put her arm around his shoulders and relaxed into his hold as he easily carried her up the stairs to their bedroom, settling her against the pillows without the slightest jar.

“Mmm,” she said, leaning back. “Comfortable.”

He smiled. “You want a nap?”

“No,” she said firmly. Then, considering it, “Maybe later.”

God, a nap. It sounded like the height of luxury.

Well. Not quite the height. Her mate stripping off his ranger uniform, getting ready to come to bed with her, that was the height. Lillian was too distracted by watching him to focus on her own clothes, which meant that soon she had a nude Cal sliding his hands up under her shirt, unbuttoning her jeans, and leaving her deliciously naked.

He kissed her then, pressing her back into the pillows so that she shivered at the feeling of his hot skin against hers. Her legs fell apart, letting him rest between them, and she held on tight as he opened her mouth with his tongue.

Cal pulled back, smiling softly, and kissed her lips, then her collarbone, then between her breasts. Lillian relaxed back into the pillows as he kept going down.

When his tongue touched her clit, she shuddered in pleasure. Cal had always been good at this, but in the months they’d been together, he’d somehow gotten even better, learning all of the things she liked best and putting them to devastating use.

You don’t have to every time, Lillian had said to him once, after he’d brought her to three orgasms in a row with his mouth.

He’d looked at her like she had two heads. Why wouldn’t I want to make you come like that every time? I love tasting you. I love feeling you shiver under my tongue. Why, and his smile had quirked, did you want me to quit doing it so much?

And she’d had to quickly backpedal, filled with the strange realization that he really did enjoy licking her to orgasm—something her ex had never been into.

Now, he was going slowly, sucking softly at her clit, licking lazily up and down, catching little twitches of sensation and following them in a leisurely kind of way. Lillian guessed he wanted to take his time; well, she wasn’t going to object.

She leaned back and sighed at the softness of his tongue, the way pleasure built inside her like a slow wave, rising and falling and rising again. It felt like she could just sink down inside of it, wrap herself up in the feeling of his mouth on her and never come out.

Eventually, the slow build started to tip over into something sharper. Lillian was so sensitized that every touch felt like a shock, her hips pushing forward towards Cal’s tongue, chasing her orgasm.

Then Cal sucked hard, and every little spark of pleasure came together into one white-hot whole. Lillian cried out as climax burst through her, leaving her shuddering and panting as pleasure pulsed inside her.

When she caught her breath, Cal had come up to lie next to her, smiling down at her. She managed a smile back. “That was fantastic.”

“Seemed like you needed it,” he said. “Feeling better?”

Lillian nodded; her whole body felt fizzy and relaxed. But of course: “I can think of something that would make me feel even better than this.”

She raised her eyebrows in a mock-suggestive way, and Cal laughed. “If you really want to. You’re not too tired?”

Lillian shook her head. “I feel great.” She stretched, parting her thighs as she gave him Suggestive Look: Part 2.

He laughed again, rolling over to stretch out on top of her, bracing most of his weight on his arms so he wouldn’t be too heavy.

He grinned and kissed her again. Lillian felt the smile in the kiss, but it quickly disappeared as it deepened. Cal groaned into her mouth, and she felt his erection against her thigh as he pressed in closer.

She held in her own smile. Often, Cal focused on her pleasure to the exclusion of his own. Lillian wasn't about to complain, exactly, but the moment when he gave in and let himself go after what he wanted was always a joy to her.

She moved a bit underneath him, wrapping her arms around him and spreading her legs wider. She was so slick she could feel it on her thighs, and her opening ached softly, needing to be filled.

Cal kissed her neck, thrilling her skin with his stubble; she felt the head of his cock against her entrance and sighed, relaxing completely as he pushed inside her.

Cal was so big that she'd been worried about being uncomfortable at first. But that had never been a problem at all: they fit together perfectly. Almost as though we were made for each other, Lillian thought, and then let the romantic notion slip away as Cal began moving inside her.

Lillian was in that post-orgasmic state where everything just felt fantastically good; every shift of his cock in her, every twitch of her own hips, every small movement and every hard thrust. She relaxed completely, letting Cal make love to her exactly as he pleased, knowing that just having him with her, inside her, was going to satisfy.

Cal, meanwhile, was keeping up a slow and steady pace. He was looking down at her with that molten silver light to his eyes that she only ever saw in bed, gazing at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Lillian was starting to accept that to him, she was.

Soon, though, his eyes fell shut as his control started to slip. Lillian wrapped a leg around his hip and pulled him in as he thrust, telling him without words: Go on, do it.

His next thrust was powerful and quick, making her clench around him as pleasure zinged through her. He made a noise low in his chest and sped up, starting to pant as the air between them heated up and sweat sheened on his brow. Lillian closed her eyes too and let his movements carry them both away, pleasure winding tighter and tighter until it finally burst into a drenching orgasm.

It took them a while to let each other go. Neither of them ever wanted to part before the last weak waves of climax faded away, and then it always seemed better to be as close as possible for a time.

Finally, though, they separated. Lillian stretched out on her side of the bed. She felt suffused with well-being, overwhelmed with happiness. It was hard to believe she'd been crying only an hour or two before.

Cal leaned over and kissed her softly. "All right?"

Lillian nodded, smiling sleepily.

He grinned back. "Ready for that nap?"

Her eyes were already closing. She kissed him as they fell shut, and drifted away to sleep with the scent of him surrounding her.

***

Nina

Nina’s phone rang just as she was leaving the diner; she’d had the early shift today, so she was off work already. She looked at the screen: Alethia. “Hello?”

“Hi, Nina,” came Alethia’s voice, crisp and businesslike. “Teri just called me. Lillian’s feeling really sick—the baby, you know—and she’s not sure she’ll be able to get everything ready for tomorrow. We thought we’d each make something to bring, just to take some of the load off of her, and then try and get there early tomorrow and help out. Do you think you could do something?”

“Oh—well, sure,” Nina said uncertainly. “I can’t really cook, though. I mean, nothing that would be good for a Christmas dinner. I could, um, buy cookies? Or a pie?”

“That sounds great,” Alethia assured her. “A dessert would be perfect. In fact, I just talked to your mom, and she said something about pie too, so maybe you guys could coordinate. All right?”

“That sounds good,” Nina said, relieved at the thought that her mom might be able to help her figure out what to bring. “I’ll call her now.”

“Thanks so much, Nina, I really appreciate it. Now I have to run—let me know what you end up getting to bring!”

“Bye,” said Nina, and stared at her phone for a minute. Bringing a dessert. Cookies, she supposed, if her mom was bringing a pie. Where would be good to buy them?

She dialed her mother.

“Hey, honey,” Mavis answered immediately. “Did Alethia get in touch with you?”

“Just now,” Nina confirmed. “I thought maybe I’d get some cookies from the store or something...”

“Nonsense,” her mom said immediately. “Come over to my apartment. It’s high time I taught you how to bake a pie.”

Nina’s fingers tightened on the phone as a wave of emotion went through her. “That sounds good,” she said, her voice wavering a little. “Should I come over now?”

“Right now,” her mother said. “I just went out and bought what we need.”

“See you soon,” Nina managed, and hung up.

She blinked hard as she put her phone away, keeping back a rush of sudden tears. Nina had never learned how to cook very well because she’d always been living in temporary places, sometimes even sleeping out in the forest in her snow leopard form. Since she’d left home when she was sixteen, she’d never had much in the way of a kitchen, or the opportunity to learn many recipes.

Baking a pie with her mother for Christmas dinner...it seemed like everything she’d missed in one little package.

Nina pulled her coat tighter against the cold and hurried forward, towards her mom’s apartment.

When she got there, Mavis pulled her inside into a hug. “You’re so cold! Come in, get your coat off. I’m making tea.”

Nina sometimes wondered if Mavis’ motherliness was all her natural personality, or if she tried to be extra-mom-like to make up for what they’d lost. Nina remembered her mom being very focused on her work as a financial advisor, when she was younger, not on baking cookies and wrapping her daughter in sweaters when it was cold.

Probably Mavis wanted to compensate for all of their lost time. But on the other hand, she seemed to truly enjoy having Nina over for silly movies, making her hot chocolate, and giving her little cabin-warming presents.

And Nina had to admit, she loved it. She felt like she was starving, and all of Mavis’ attention was like food to her poor, hungry self. She sucked it all in and was always happy for more.

Now, Mavis handed her a mug of peppermint tea and said, “All right, let’s make a pie.”

Nina smiled and followed her mother into the kitchen.

Mavis told her about keeping everything cold when making the dough, that it was important to always use butter—“Never shortening,” she admonished Nina sternly, “butter has more flavor,” and Nina nodded solemnly—and all sorts of other pie-related facts.

“I didn’t realize you knew this much about baking,” Nina said finally, as she cut cold butter into little cubes.

“I had a lot of time, while you were gone,” her mother said sadly. “I’d cook things, and imagine that you might come home just in time for it to be done, and I could give it to you, and watch you eat and be happy.”

Nina bit her lip. “I’m sorry I never came.”

“Oh, baby!” Mavis immediately abandoned the dough and hugged Nina with floury hands. “No. No, of course you thought you’d never be welcome there, after what your father said. No, the fault is on me, for not speaking up against him.” She pulled back and held Nina by the shoulder, smiling. “And now I can make you pie after all.”

“I’m helping,” Nina pointed out, making her mother laugh.

“Fine. We’ll be making pie together, and that’s even better. Now, get out the pastry blender.”

They mixed the dough, chilled it, rolled it out, and chilled it again. As they cleaned the flour off the counters, Nina said tentatively, “Mom, you know I’m happy that you’re here, and we can do things like this together.”

Mavis raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

Nina smiled a little. “But I want you to be happy too. I don’t want you to have to limit yourself to a little town like this. There’s not a lot of businesses, there’s not a lot of people, it’s hard to make friends when everyone’s known each other for fifty years already...”

Mavis frowned. “Nina, are you having a hard time making friends? I thought your pack was good to you.”

“They are, Mom!” Nina almost laughed at the way her mother was turning the concern around onto her. “I’m talking about you, not me. I promise.”

“Oh, baby, I’m fine,” Mavis said. “I’d rather be here with you than surrounded by a million friends. You’re my daughter. Of course you come first.”

Nina smiled at that, but insisted, “I just want you to be happy.”

“Seeing you happy is what makes me happy,” Mavis said. “Now. Let’s talk about this apple-caramel filling we’re going to be making.”

Nina had to give up. For now, anyway. “Fine, all right,” she said. “Can we have Christmas music?”

Mavis grinned. “Oh, I almost forgot. I have a whole playlist. Let’s see. You get the apples, and I’ll queue it up.”

Nina went to get the apples, and sighed with happiness. She had her mother back. They were making a pie together, for Christmas Eve dinner with her pack, and she’d be there with both her mom and her mate.

Maybe it wasn’t one-hundred-percent perfection, but, Nina thought, it was pretty darn close.

***

Lillian

Lillian woke up slowly, to the sight of Cal, stretched out next to her and smiling as he stroked one hand softly up and down her arm.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” She yawned. “Have you been here the whole time?”

He nodded. “It’s only been half an hour or so. Closed my eyes a bit. Thought about some things.”

Lillian stretched. She felt surprisingly rested, for just a short nap. Maybe all the pre-nap endorphins had something to do with it, she thought, and smiled privately.

Then Cal’s words registered. “Thought about what things?”

Cal shrugged. “Just. Some more reasons why I don’t like Christmas much. Doesn’t take much to realize it was all...situational. No reason I shouldn’t want a big Christmas celebration with you and the pack.”

“Will you tell me about the reasons?” Lillian asked softly.

Cal sighed. “Sure. Just. When I was in the Corps.”

Cal had been in the Marines for over ten years, Lillian knew. He’d been one of the first wave sent to Iraq. He hadn’t talked much about his time there to her, but what little he’d said made it clear that he had powerful memories about it, good and bad.

“When I was in the Corps,” he repeated, “my platoon, we weren’t family men, mostly. And most of us were cynical bastards, on top of it.” Counter to his words, he was smiling a little fondly at whatever image of his unit he’d called up in his head. “So we weren’t sitting in circles singing carols on Christmas Eve in the desert, or anything like that.”

“But you did something,” Lillian guessed.

Cal shook his head. “We gave each other presents. I don’t remember how it started, but we’d always give something. But the rule was, it couldn’t be worth anything. So it’d be—a bag of sand. A single ammo round. Veggie burger MREs.”

“Veggie burger MREs?” Lillian asked with disbelief.

“They’re the worst,” Cal said seriously. “Anyway, everyone gave a present and everyone got a present, but it was all stuff we didn’t care about giving away. Because we didn’t have hardly anything we could afford to lose.”

He was quiet for a long minute. Lillian took his hand.

“Anyway,” he said finally, “I think that’s one of the reasons Christmas here at home gets my goat a little. Because I had so many Christmases that were just—a desert rock wrapped in a sock, and that was enough. And it seems like it should be enough. But it isn’t, for most people.”

Lillian thought about that. “Have you seen any of them, since you left the Corps?” she asked softly.

Cal blinked. “Well, not really, no. We’ve kept in touch over the Internet a bit, but I’m not on there much.”

Lillian made a mental note to make sure Cal had a Facebook, and to look up some of his old Marine friends on it. Her laptop was the only computer in the house; Cal always either used the one at work, or just made do with his phone.

“Now, Major Hanes, who commanded my company, stopped by a few times in the early days,” Cal was continuing. “And he was a good man, the best officer I ever served under. More than once, I could’ve used his advice around here. I wonder what he’s up to.”

“Cal,” Lillian said slowly, “do you remember when we were talking about the wedding a few weeks ago? And I asked you if you wanted to invite anyone from out of town, and you said no?”

Cal frowned at her. “I remember.”

He sounded like he didn’t understand why she was changing the subject. Lillian sighed. “Why don’t we invite your old platoon to come? And your Major Hanes. I’d love to meet them.”

Cal looked like that idea hadn’t even occurred to him. Lillian refrained from shaking her head. Men.

“I guess we could do that,” he said slowly.

“Didn’t any of them invite you to their weddings?” Lillian asked, exasperated. Surely she couldn’t be the only fiancée who’d had this idea. Or God forbid some of the platoon members themselves could think to send an e-vite.

“Don’t think too many of them are married,” Cal said absently. “Mostly like me—married to the Corps, then got back and found themselves an old crusty vet before their time.”

Lillian rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “You are neither old nor crusty. I just touched every inch of you, I think I would know. Let’s invite your Marines to the wedding. You can catch up with them, maybe set up some kind of regular reunion. Show them the Park.” A thought occurred to her. “Are any of them shifters?”

To her surprise, Cal nodded. “The military’s got shifter units. Top secret, the whole nine yards, but recon Marines are full of ’em. Gives us a big edge in combat. We were all shifters in my platoon. Some of the guys’ forms are real wild.” He smiled suddenly. “But the major’s a snow leopard. That’s how he knew I’d fit here at Glacier, I think, when he got me the job. Best place in the country for a snow leopard.”

“Now I want to meet them even more,” Lillian said. Cal had turned her several months ago, but since then, the only shifters she’d spent time with were the Glacier pack—and they weren’t your typical shifters. If she ever wanted to learn more about shapeshifter culture, she needed to expand her horizons.

Besides, she wanted to know Cal’s friends. And she wanted him to be able to see them again. It was ridiculous that they hadn’t kept more in touch, considering how close they must have been, back in the Marine Corps.

Lillian kissed Cal right on the thoughtful twist to his mouth. “Wedding invitations,” she said firmly. “I’ll bet money they want to see you as much as you want to see them. We’ll look them up on Facebook after Christmas and get their contact information. All right?”

Cal was starting to smile. “All right.” The smile broadened. “Can’t wait to show off my beautiful, smart, kind mate to all of them.”

Lillian smiled back at him. “Stop it.”

He kissed her. “No.”

“Well. If you must, I suppose.” She leaned into his next kiss, and they stayed curled up together in bed, kissing in a nest of blankets while the snow fell softly outside.

***

Alethia

Alethia surveyed the assembled vegetable casserole. “Great,” she said. “So we can just stick it in the oven tomorrow and it’ll be ready for dinner?”

“That’s right,” Grey said. He smiled. “And I used the fancy cheese. It’s going to be real good.”

Alethia leaned into his side, head tipped up to see him, and smiled back. “I believe it. Thanks for putting that together.”

She felt the movement as he shrugged. “I like cooking.”

Alethia knew that. It was one of her favorite things about Grey. Her many, many favorite things. Still, she made sure to show her appreciation, because even if he liked it, it was work.

Cooking had never been Alethia’s favorite thing to do. But she liked helping Grey out in the kitchen; somehow, working together made it much more enjoyable.

Today, though, she’d been busy driving out to the next town over for a ham, picking up some little appetizers, and coordinating with the rest of the pack about what they were all going to bring. Nina and Mavis had a pie locked down; Jeff was creating some kind of insane fancy mac-and-cheese with pancetta or something unholy like that; Zach and Teri were coming armed with salad and rolls; and they could come over early enough to bake the ham at Cal and Lillian’s tomorrow.

Alethia smiled in satisfaction.

Grey made a pleased noise. She looked up at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Just. You look happy.”

“I am happy,” she said, and realized it was true. And that she mostly hadn’t been, recently.

She’d gotten so caught up in the terrible round of disappointing cycles that she’d forgotten about all the other things in life. And it wasn’t as though she didn’t still desperately want a baby, and she was still sad that it hadn’t worked out this month, again—but it wasn’t right to be living inside of that hope-fear-disappointment storm. Not all the time, not so you ignored everything else.

Alethia had done a good thing today, and she was content with that. She grinned at Grey. “I guess we’re all done for the night. However shall we pass the time?”

“Hmmm,” he said. “You’ll have to give me some ideas.”

“Oh, I think I can do that.” Alethia twined their fingers together and lifted her head to kiss him.

***

Lillian

Lillian woke up filled with a sense of well-being.

And nausea, of course.

But mostly contentment. She lay in bed doing the breathing exercises the doctor had recommended, and eventually she felt like she could get up and eat something, which usually helped in the mornings.

Cal was downstairs already, moving around the kitchen. “Merry Christmas Eve,” he said with a smile.

“Merry Christmas Eve.” Lillian came up to him and received a hug and a piece of toast. “Do you have to go in today?”

Cal shook his head. “As long as there aren’t any emergencies, we’ve got a real skeleton crew today and tomorrow. And since I worked the last ten Christmases...”

Lillian smiled. “You’ve got some goodwill built up there.”

Cal nodded. “So I’m all yours. What do you want to do this morning? The rest of the pack should be arriving around one or two. They’re all bringing food, and we’ll cook the ham once they get here. So the menu is totally and completely taken care of, I promise.”

Lillian thought about it, looking around. If they didn’t need any more food...decorations?

But the decorations she’d thought were so shabby just the other day somehow seemed charming, this morning. All of the evergreen, their tree decorated with twinkling lights and the colored balls she’d bought, plus a very few treasured items they’d happened to have stashed away—a USMC ornament from Cal, a little tree with a picture of Lillian as a tiny girl, a beautiful dove from her grandmother, and a few others.

It was simple, but it was just right. Lillian suddenly couldn’t imagine why she’d thought she needed anything fancy or elaborate for the pack. None of them were the type to look down their noses at anything simple or inexpensive. And actually, now that she really thought about it, several of them probably would’ve been uncomfortable if the place was too fancied up.

She smiled at Cal. “How about we drink hot chocolate in front of the fire?”

He grinned. “That sounds like a plan to me.”

***

Mavis

Mavis held the pie dish in the crook of one arm, locked up her apartment, and set off into the snowy afternoon.

She was on her way to a Christmas party with her daughter and all of Nina’s friends, and that was the best present she’d ever received.

Last Christmas, she’d been living with a bitter and surly husband, counting out the years since she’d lost her daughter through her own cowardice. Mavis’ inability to speak up when Daryl had kicked Nina out for being a shifter had cost her the most precious thing in her life.

Staying with Daryl after that had seemed like a penance. She knew she couldn’t leave him, because she had to be at home if Nina ever decided to come back. So for seven years, she’d endured his angry diatribes about devil-creatures, his assertions that he’d made the right decision, and his dark speculations about what sort of life Nina might be living, out there.

Now, though, that was all over. She never had to see Daryl again, and she got to see her daughter almost every day.

Mavis worried sometimes about being too smothering, so full of stymied love and built-up care. She’d heard the stories about Lillian and Teri’s mother, and how she’d driven her children away by being too selfish to give up her wants for their needs. But Nina never seemed to chafe under her attention.

She put the pie carefully in the passenger’s seat of her car, and as she pulled out into the street, she smiled to herself at the memory of baking it with Nina the night before. Cooking with her daughter...she couldn’t ask for more.

Nina, of course, thought she needed more. She had to laugh to herself at Nina’s obvious concern about Mavis being alone.

Of course, it was true that her little apartment was lonely some nights. It was certainly true that she wondered sometimes what it might have been like, if she’d married someone other than Daryl, adopted Nina with a different, kinder man.

Maybe even a shifter, like Nina was, so Nina could’ve had a father who really understood what she’d gone through as a teenager.

What would it be like to be married to a shifter? Did they have animal instincts? The way they called themselves a pack and their wives their mates was intriguing.

Of course Nina was just as sweet and thoughtful as she’d been as a child. And her friends all seemed perfectly lovely. So there couldn’t be any doubt that shifters were as human as anyone else was, in their minds.

Mavis wouldn’t mind sitting down and talking with some of the pack and learning a bit more about shifters. Maybe Cal and Lillian—they were the oldest couple, and it would be nice to have a conversation with some people more her own age. Nina was right; it was hard to make new friends in a small town like this. All the people over forty were busy with their own families and the social circles they’d had their whole lives.

But it was worth it. More than worth it. She had her daughter back.

And she was spending Christmas with her. The wish she’d made for seven Christmases in a row had finally come true.

***

Cal

Cal surveyed his home, feeling a smile spread across his face.

Everyone had arrived soon after lunch, and everyone was now busy making the party happen—but in a fun, leisurely way, talking and laughing and snacking on the little appetizers that Alethia had brought.

Grey, Jeff, and Zach were in the kitchen, talking seriously about the preparation of the ham; Teri was playing a game of chase with Emily, who was now almost two and running everywhere. Leah had brought some kind of Pinterest-inspired decoration crafts, and she and Lillian were at the table with their heads bent over the glue and twigs and glitter and whatever else there was.

Nina and Mavis were putting cinnamon rolls aside to rise; everyone had come with the assumption that there was plenty of food, but the moment Mavis had mentioned cinnamon rolls, there had been a rush of approval for just one more dish.

Alethia came over to stand by Cal, a smile turning the corners of her mouth up. “This worked out pretty well, I think.” Satisfaction flavored her voice.

“Thanks to you,” Cal said. “I appreciate the smack to the head. I needed it.”

“Did you get everything worked out?” she asked, more seriously. “Everything’s going all right?”

“Everything’s fine,” he assured her. “No further issues.”

She looked over at Grey, who seemed to have reached a consensus with Jeff and Zach about the ham; they were fiddling with the oven. “You have to keep communicating,” she said. “It’s so easy to get lost inside your own problems, and not think about anything else. You can lose sight of what’s most important, that way.”

She sounded like she was speaking from experience. Cal’s instinct was to let it alone; he didn’t like to intrude into the personal lives of his leopards. But she’d just helped him out, so—“Everything all right with the two of you?” he asked.

Alethia looked back at him. “We’re figuring some things out,” she said. “I think it’ll all be all right.”

That wasn’t a yes. But it wasn’t a no, either. “You let me know if I can help at all,” Cal offered.

Alethia smiled. “I’ll do that.” She toasted him with her glass, and went off to peer over Grey’s shoulder at whatever they were doing with the ham.

Cal looked over the room one more time, and sighed in contentment. This was his pack, and they were together and happy. There was his mate, laughing, filled with the glow of new life inside of her.

Cal had never been that into Christmas, but he’d sure gotten everything he could’ve wanted this year.

***

Cal

Eventually, all the food was in the oven, all the decorations had been glued together, and they were looking at an hour or so without anything that needed taking care of.

“Go for a run?” Cal suggested, looking around at the leopards.

Jeff glanced at the kitchen.

“Go,” Leah said, from where she was sitting by the fire with Emily napping on her chest. “We’ll make sure nothing catches on fire, won’t we, Mavis?”

“We sure will,” Mavis said comfortably. “You all enjoy yourselves out in the freezing cold. We’ll stick around by this fire and watch the food.”

Teri raised an eyebrow. “And by watch, you mean...”

“Eat, of course.” Mavis nibbled on a cookie.

“That’s better,” Teri said to a round of chuckles. “Okay, let’s go!”

So there was a round of emptying pockets of phones and other things that wouldn’t make the shift with them, and then the nine shifters all exited the cabin, shifting together in a rush in the snowy afternoon.

Alethia took the lead, bounding out into the forest, with Grey tearing off at her heels. Then the rest of them followed; Cal stayed at the back where he could watch the whole pack, keeping up an easy pace with Lillian at his side.

His leopard purred in his chest, absolutely satisfied. The pack was together, they were running in the snow, everyone was safe and content. Nothing more was needed.

After the first quick burst of running, just for the joy of it, the outing quickly devolved into a massive game of tag. No one person seemed to be It; it was just as likely that the victim might turn around and start after the chaser without warning. Cal found himself dashing forward on instinct when he saw Teri heading for the safety of a tree; she whirled and ran, and he ended up chasing her up a rocky outcropping, leaping after her from stone to stone, until she launched herself back to the ground and he followed after her.

Cal had always had affection for Teri, even before he’d ever met Lillian, and now that she was his little sister-in-law, he felt like the universe had put them in the right place.

He caught her eventually, pouncing and making them both tumble end over end. Snow leopards didn’t laugh, but Cal could tell from the light in her eyes that she would have, if she were human.

Then she scrambled away and crouched, looking at him with a predatory light in her eyes, and it was Cal’s turn to run away.

Playing. Like siblings did. Like packmates did. He hadn’t played in a long, long time.

He led them back toward the scents of the others, and they found Joel up a tree with Nina stalking around its base, Jeff and Zach romping through some snowbanks, and Grey and Alethia chasing squirrels through the underbrush. Lillian was stretched out on a flat rock in a patch of winter sun, tail twitching lazily as she watched the rest of them.

Cal went to join his mate, stretching out next to her on the rock and nosing at the thick fur at her neck. She purred contentedly, and he nudged up next to her, licking her ear.

They settled in together, and watched their pack play.

***

Lillian

As they sat down to dinner, Lillian almost couldn’t believe how happy she was.

For the last few days, she’d been wrestling with a growing certainty that this would be a disaster. She wouldn’t be able to do enough, make enough, buy enough, be enough for the pack’s Christmas.

She realized now that she’d been sabotaging herself with that attitude.

Because when she’d tried to do everything herself, she’d ensured that she’d be stressed out and unhappy. And that sort of person was not a competent, caring hostess. No one wanted to be at a party where they had to walk on eggshells to avoid some kind of overburdened meltdown.

Instead, Alethia and Cal and Teri and all the rest of the pack had made it so preparing everything was a joy. They’d all pitched in together, and everyone had had a wonderful time doing it.

Lillian had thanked each person for taking the time to make and bring a dish, and they’d all assured her that it had been fun, that they’d enjoyed cooking something for Christmas dinner. Mavis had talked about making a pie with her daughter in a way that had brought tears to Lillian’s eyes. It had been wonderful to hear, and it had made Lillian think about the days to come, when she could start cooking with her own child—the child that would grow up in this amazing, perfect family.

And now, they were all sitting down to eat the food they’d made together.

Lillian cleared her throat, and everyone looked at her.

“I want to say thank you,” she said. “Thank you to everyone for making this happen. I am so impressed with how all of you have worked together to create such a community—and most of it has happened just over the last year. I’ve never known such a close, kind, loving family like this, and being part of it is all the Christmas gift I could ever have wished for.”

There were murmurs of agreement around the table. Lillian felt Cal’s hand grip hers, and turned to meet his eyes, smiling at the love in them as she squeezed his hand.

“I agree,” Alethia spoke up. “Until I came here to Glacier, I never really understood what family could be. Watching everyone come together—even when we’d only known each other a little while, everyone was so friendly and helpful to everyone else. It’s not something I ever thought I’d be part of, but I’m so grateful.”

“Me, too,” Zach agreed. “Joel and I spent a long time without any family at all, and coming here is the best thing that could’ve happened to us.” He looked over at his brother, and Joel nodded, and leaned in to brush shoulders with Nina.

“I’m so happy Emily’s going to grow up here,” Leah said. “That she’s going to learn what family is from all of you.”

Emily’s face was covered in cracker crumbs; she shoved another one in her mouth and grinned around at all the faces looking at her. Lillian felt her heart swell.

“Thank you all for welcoming my daughter,” Mavis said. Sincerity roughened her voice, and Lillian could see tears standing in her eyes. “And thank you for making a place for me as well. I couldn’t be more grateful.”

There was a long moment of silence. Lillian blinked hard.

“You are all the best pack anyone could ask for,” Cal said finally. “Now how about we stop talking about how wonderful it is we’re here for this meal together, and eat it.”

That broke the tension, and amid general laughter, Cal took up the knife and cut a slice of ham.

Food got passed around, plates were filled, and Emily almost knocked Leah’s ham on the floor. After her plate was saved by a heroic lunge from Joel, everyone settled in and picked up their forks.

It was delicious. Lillian closed her eyes and sighed in happiness. Merry Christmas, she thought to herself.

***

Alethia

Alethia rode home with a sense of well-being deep in her belly. She was full, and happy, and she’d had a wonderful Christmas Eve.

She smiled over at Grey. And her mate was with her. She’d had a year and a half with this wonderful man, in this breathtakingly gorgeous place, and watched those fantastic people come together. That was enough.

Although Grey was probably going to get her something even on top of that, which—

Crap. She’d forgotten.

She didn’t have a present for Grey. She’d gotten caught up in organizing the whole Christmas Eve dinner, coordinating with Teri and Mavis, cooking up a storm with Grey, shopping for food...

I’m a terrible mate, she thought ruefully. Great. She was going to have to come up with something really good now. Could she run out to the store tomorrow morning? Everything would be closed on Christmas Day, right?

She couldn’t make anything; she was terrible at crafting and all that stuff. She couldn’t do any exciting forbidden bedroom things as a present, since Grey had never suggested anything that Alethia hadn’t also been gung-ho to do.

Crap. This was seriously a problem.

Though somehow, she couldn’t seem to work up too much anxiety about it. She was filled with such a contented lassitude, her belly full and pleased, her heart even fuller and happier.

They pulled into their driveway, and as they went inside, Grey kissed her, stealthy from behind so she squeaked and dropped the keys.

“I have a present for you,” he said, his voice richly amused.

Crap crap crap. “Hold your horses there, mister,” Alethia said. “Let a girl pee before you spring diamonds on her.”

Grey laughed and let her go, and she escaped to the bathroom.

What to do, what to do—Alethia stared into the mirror, and then opened the medicine cabinet, as though it was some kind of magic chest and a gold-plated socket wrench or whatever might suddenly appear.

The second pregnancy test stared out at her from the shelf.

A wild idea occurred to her. What if—

No, that was dumb. She’d just depress herself.

But she was still feeling it. She’d let herself focus on the party, let all thoughts of pregnancy recede into the background, but it was still there. That surety that this time, she was.

It’s no big deal, she told herself as she took the test down from the shelf. It’s negative, I’m just making sure that it’s really negative, that I’m making this up, she thought as she opened the package.

She took the test with shaking fingers; she had to be careful not to drop it.

Then a three-minute wait. She didn’t look at it. She fixed her hair, dabbed at her makeup. Checked her phone. Two minutes. She reorganized the medicine cabinet. How long had that cough medicine been in there?

Her phone beeped. She jumped and closed her eyes. Reached out and picked up the test. It’s one line, she told herself. It’s one line, you’re not pregnant, it’s one line. You’ll see one line. You’ve seen one line so many times, you know what it looks like.

She opened her eyes.

Two lines.

She stared. One of the lines was faint, but it was definitely, one-hundred-percent there.

Two lines. Two lines.

Pregnant.

Alethia blinked hard as tears flooded her eyes. She didn’t have time to fix her eye makeup again. She had to—she had to—

“Hey, babe?” she called out the door, surprised that her voice came out relatively steady.

“Yeah?” Grey’s voice floated out. “You need something?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to get your present, but I gotta wrap it real fast,” she said, keeping her voice steady with an effort. “Stay in the front room until I’m done, okay?”

“You got it.” She heard him moving through the hall.

Alethia kept staring at the test for a few minutes after Grey had passed. It didn’t change. She wasn’t hallucinating.

She shook herself and opened the door. Gift bags. Gift bags. They had some in the closet somewhere, they must.

Good thing this has a plastic cap to cover the pee, she thought a little hysterically as she unearthed a little shiny gift bag with gold ribbon handles. Perfect. Did they have tissue paper? They did.

Having gift bags and tissue paper on hand was the sort of thing that normally would’ve made her remark to Grey, We’re so good at adulting. But it seemed pretty insignificant now. Because they were about to be parents.

Alethia quickly dropped the test into the bag, tucked tissue paper around it, and then hurried to the living room.

“Hey,” she said breathlessly.

“Hey.” Grey gave her a quizzical look, then dropped his eyes to the bag. “Something exciting in there?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Alethia tried to keep the utter glee out of her voice, but some of it clearly seeped through.

She couldn’t wait for him to open it. She couldn’t wait to see his face.

“Okay,” he said. “Does that mean I should give you your present first?”

“Yes,” Alethia decided, despite her anticipation. The test would probably stop all other activities for a while. Better to do it second.

“All right, then—here.” Grey handed her a little box.

Alethia smiled at him and opened it. It was—“Oh, wow.” She stared. “I was kidding about the diamonds.”

“No joke,” Grey said. She was staring at the necklace, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

Alethia liked pretty, expensive things, but she also liked being able to afford food and save up for the future, so she usually made do with imitation jewelry and secondhand clothes. That was what had inspired her to start her clothing store in the first place—most women out here weren’t rich, but she thought they deserved clothes as nice as she could get for affordable prices.

This wasn’t imitation, though. She knew. This was a real diamond necklace.

“Can I put it on you?” Grey asked softly.

Alethia remembered, suddenly, the moment Grey had given her the first present he’d ever gotten her, the day they moved into this house. I really am going to ruin my makeup again, she thought helplessly as tears filled her eyes. She nodded.

Just like that day, she turned around and let him clasp it around her neck, and just like that day, he pressed a kiss to her nape when he was done.

“I’m so happy I’m going to share the rest of my life with you,” he murmured.

Alethia turned around and kissed him fiercely. “Me too.” Her voice broke.

“Hey.” He pulled back, and thumbed away a tear from the corner of her eye. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Here—here, open yours.” She thrust the bag at him.

He took it, giving her a perplexed look, and slowly tugged the tissue paper out of the bag. Then he froze.

Alethia waited while he slowly, slowly pulled the test out of the bag. He stared down at it. “There’s two lines here,” he said.

He looked at her. She nodded, tears coming again.

He looked down at it again. “When did you take this?”

“Just now,” she said, and laughed helplessly. “I thought—I don’t know what I thought. I thought I felt like I was. I thought it had to be positive this time. And—and—”

“A baby,” he said softly. “Our baby. There’s a baby growing inside you right now.”

Alethia nodded, her voice totally deserting her.

Grey dropped down to his knees, pulling her in. Alethia rested her hands in his hair as he kissed her belly, softly, over and over.

He looked up at her. “Honey,” he said. “I’m so happy. And I hope you’re ready, because I’m going to treat you like a queen for the next nine months.”

Alethia started to laugh. Tears were still leaking out of the corners of her eyes, but the laughter was overwhelming them. “No complaints here,” she said.

“I’m serious,” he told her. “I’m going to bring you breakfast in bed. I’m going to massage your feet. I’m going to fan you with palm fronds.”

“Get up here.” She tugged him to his feet, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him.

The kiss turned passionate fast, and soon Alethia was breathing hard and reaching for Grey’s belt buckle.

He pulled back. “Wait,” he said.

She paused with the buckle undone. “What?”

“Is it safe to do this?” he asked, concern visible on his face. “You know, for the baby?”

Alethia was simultaneously struck by fondness and exasperation. “A,” she said, “the baby is a microscopic collection of cells right now. B, you better believe I researched this, and yes, it is totally and completely safe to have sex all through pregnancy, as long as there aren’t any dangerous complications or anything. Do not worry.”

He smiled ruefully. “Okay.”

She eyed him. “Good.”

“I trust you to take care of the baby,” he added. “The thought just came to me all at once, and—”

“Hey,” Alethia said. “Wanting to protect our child is extremely sexy.”

A smile started spreading across his face. “Is it?”

“Oh, yes,” she assured him. “So sexy that I may not be able to control myself.”

The smile broadened. “Okay by me.”

Alethia grinned and pounced. In a minute, she had Grey stretched out on the couch and his belt off, and was undoing his pants. He helped by unbuttoning his shirt, and soon that whole long, muscled body was laid out for her appreciation.

He pulled her down for another kiss before she could do anything else, and she got caught up in the heat of his mouth, the way he held onto her, his big hands cupping her hips. Heat pooled in her lower stomach.

She broke away after a minute, because she had a plan, here. Grey was half-hard already, and she took hold of his cock, rubbing her thumb just under the head where he was most sensitive, and watching him fully harden in her hand. She glanced up at him and smiled.

“I love that look,” he said.

“What look?”

His eyes were half-lidded with pleasure already. “The one that says you’re about to take what you want, and I’m going to love every second of it.”

Alethia hadn’t realized she had a specific look that communicated that. Although to be fair, she was definitely not the only person in this relationship with that look.

“It’s not just you who’s going to love every second,” she said, heartfelt, and slid down his body and took him into her mouth.

He tasted amazing, as always—hot and musky and masculine. Alethia loved doing this, but for a long time now, she’d been thinking of it as a stop on the way to the most important thing: babymaking.

Well, no one had to make any babies tonight, because there was one already growing inside her. So she could take her time and focus entirely on her mate’s pleasure.

Alethia went slow and gentle at first, licking down the shaft and then up again, sucking very softly on the head, wrapping a hand around the base. Grey made an appreciative noise, his hips moving into her grip. She kept up the gentle pressure and soft attention with her mouth, stretching it out, luxuriating in the taste and feel of his cock against her lips.

Grey’s noises got deeper and louder, and when Alethia glanced up, he had an arm slung over his eyes, blocking out anything but the feeling of her mouth on him. She grinned to herself and picked up the pace, moving her hand in a rhythm with her mouth as she tongued the head of his cock.

Alethia could feel her clit tingling, wetness building between her legs, as she tasted salty precome, as she felt Grey’s cock jerking with pleasure in her mouth. Her hand was slick by now, and she slipped it down and rubbed hard at the good spot just behind his balls as she went down as far as she could, swallowing around his cock.

Grey shuddered and came, hot and salty in her mouth, and Alethia swallowed it all, overwhelmed by the smell and taste of sex.

When she lifted her head, Grey was looking at her with his eyes shining hotly silver. "I love you," he said, his voice husky.

"I love you, too." Alethia's own voice sounded...well, like she'd been doing exactly what she'd just been doing. She smiled. "I've been wanting that for a while. Too much babymaking."

"Well," Grey said, stretching out so that his joints cracked, looking about as self-satisfied as a shifter cat could look, "it was worth the wait. Why don't you come up here?"

Alethia climbed up to straddle his hips, leaning down to kiss him. He threaded his fingers through her hair and opened her mouth with his tongue, kissing her hard until she whimpered.

"Mmm," he murmured. "Your turn."

"No complaints," she managed, and found herself flipped over—how had he done that without knocking either of them off the couch?—and set down where Grey had been. He got her legs apart, Alethia making no objections, and went right down.

Unlike Alethia, Grey didn't start out slow. She was already revved up anyway, after the way he'd shuddered and come underneath her mouth; she arched into the first hard suck with a cry, and he didn't let up after that.

In less than a minute, Alethia was writhing on the couch as Grey took her apart with his tongue. She moaned as he licked her clit, his fingers sliding inside her and rubbing up against the spot that made her feel like she was going to fly apart, the pleasure was so intense.

She was so on-edge that his concentrated efforts tipped her over almost immediately. Alethia came hard, clenching around his fingers and moaning at the ceiling.

But Grey didn’t stop. He licked her right through her spasms, catching the final twitches of pleasure and carrying them through into something that was building up again. Alethia rolled her hips, getting his fingers deeper, biting her lip and shuddering at how good it felt.

Her second orgasm was a slower, rolling affair, as though the first one had only receded and then came back like a wave, making her hips jerk and her breath catch as it went on and on and on.

Finally, she had to tug him away, pulling at his shoulder to get him up to where she could kiss him. The kiss was full of white-hot love; Alethia felt like all of her love and joy had built up inside her until it was ready to spill out everywhere.

“We’re having a baby,” she whispered into his mouth.

Grey caught her tightly in his arms, breaking the kiss to press his face into her neck. Alethia held him back just as hard, and they stayed together like that for a long, long time.

Finally, he pulled back, catching his breath. Alethia wondered whether the sheen of wetness in his eyes was really there, or if she was just imagining it.

“Merry Christmas,” she said breathlessly.

He broke into a wide grin, the kind she only ever saw him give her. She couldn’t wait to see him smiling like that at their baby. “Merry Christmas.”