Aramond tugged on the handle, and the bookstore’s door shut with a soft click and a jingle of bells. With great care, he tucked the new packet of gilded-edged tarot cards into the breast pocket of his coat. He pressed his hand against the firm weight, the deck right over his heart, and his chest expanded with satisfaction. He’d acquired the perfect gift for Danae.

Snow drifted from the sky, covering the street and sidewalk in a deep blanket of soft white. More had fallen than he’d anticipated. It had taken him a couple of hours to arrive even though he’d run harder and faster than he ever had before, pushing his panther to the brink of exhaustion. The prize, though, Danae’s special tarot cards, was well worth the effort.

Striding down the bookstore’s steps, he picked up his pace, heading along the sidewalk toward the edge of Port Townsend. Tension bunched the muscles in his shoulders tight. He wasn’t used to interacting with the humans. A few scurried about and one in particular caught his attention.

An elderly man, with a few strands of gray hair protruding from under his worn fedora, stood outside the pharmacy. He inserted a key into the lock. With a quick twist, the bolt engaged, and the old man met Aramond’s gaze. “Best hurry home. Storm’ll be a bad one this time.”

“Do you need any assistance?” The urge to shift and hurry home to Danae pulsed in Aramond’s veins, but he had to ensure the old man would be all right. No one should get caught in this storm.

A smile tugged at the man’s mouth, and his eyes sparked with mirth, giving him a youthful appearance. “Ah, son. I’m fine, thank you. Hurry along. Don’t keep your wife waiting.”

“Wife?” Aramond blinked. “What makes you think I’m mate…er, married?”

The man chuckled and nodded toward the bookstore. “Saw you come out of there. I recognize the look of a man who just found the perfect gift for his wife. Been there many times.” He waved his hand in the air. “I’m off to find something for my gal before I head home as well.”

Aramond smiled. “Good luck to you.”

“Thank you, but after forty years, I know what she likes.” He winked and strode down the sidewalk, his gray hair bobbing from under his hat with each step.

Aramond rubbed his chin, the stubble rough against his fingers. His mind raced, and uncertainty tightened like a coil in his gut. Would Danae like the tarot cards? He thought so, but doubt poked at the edges of his mind.

A wind gust whipped snow against his face. The ice crystals stung his cheek, bringing him out of his musing. He needed to get home. Resolve built in his chest, and he picked up his pace. As the buildings receded behind him, the forest loomed.

He glanced around, searching for any more humans. They needed to remain oblivious to the inhuman creatures that roamed the night, including him. With no one in sight, he slipped between the trees and morphed into his panther. His clothes, including the tarot cards, receded under his sleek black fur.

Free to roam, to run in his beast form, he bolted over the underbrush and between the trees. The pine trees’ canopy kept most of the frozen flakes from reaching the ground, but some piled in the open spaces and along the path, slowing him down.

Keeping his goal in the forefront of his mind, he ran, pushing himself through the snow. The cold froze his nose, and after several miles, the pads on his feet numbed.

He emerged into a small meadow. Snow covered the grass and small boulders, burying them in a white blanket. The moon peeked from behind a cloud, and the few flakes that continued to fall sparkled in the light.

Aramond glanced toward the path that led to the special cliff where he’d met Danae in May, changing his life forever. His chest expanded at the memory then constricted almost to the point of pain. Danae wanted to go to the cliff tomorrow night to celebrate the winter solstice and honor Alora and Lemuria. The snow was so thick, he wasn’t sure they’d make it.

A snarl burst from his throat. No!

Determination fueled by his love for his mate curled in his gut. The muscles in his legs tensed, and he pushed through the drifts, leaving a path in his wake. No matter what, Danae would have her special night. He’d make sure of it.

* * *

Danae twisted in her chair, trying to ease some of the tension in her shoulders. The old wood squeaked in protest, and the small silver clasp slipped from her pliers and bounced across the table’s worn wooden surface.

With more force than she’d intended, she tossed the tool onto her jewelry mat and rubbed the back of her stiff neck. “Aramond, why did you have to patrol tonight?”

Snow drifted past the kitchen window, the large flakes illuminated by the porch light. One, then another, and another, landed on the glass pane. What if something happened and he never returned? She couldn’t face the abandonment, not again.

Danae curled her fingers into a fist, her nails digging into her palm. A low growl rumbled in her chest. “Stop it, Danae. He’ll be back before you know it.”

She gripped the pliers and focused on the neck chain. Concentrating on the silver link, she secured the clasp onto the last loop. After a quick twist and a pinch, the final piece was in place. She gripped each end and raised the necklace from the mat. The yellow sunstone dangled from the center, caught the light, and sent a beautiful cascade of sparkles across the wall.

A sense of anticipation rippled over Danae’s arms. The necklace would look good around Aramond’s neck, accentuating the glint in his eyes. With tender care, she brought the jewelry to her lips and kissed the small gem. “May Alora bless us on the winter solstice.”

Filled with unexplained restlessness, Danae placed the gift in a small leather pouch.

Her gaze drew to the window. Snow fell fast and furious, creating a small drift along the pane’s edge. She stood with a start, knocking her chair over in the process. The old wooden back crashed against the linoleum floor.

She raced to the window and drew the curtain. The porch light lit up the back yard in a winter wonderland. Snow covered the grass, the woodpile, and even the small birdbath situated next to the sleeping rose bushes.

The hair at Danae’s nape rose. Her attention tore to the clock. Three a.m. The kitty clock’s black cat tail swung back and forth in an eerie counterpoint to her pounding heart.

Where was Aramond? He should’ve completed his patrol by now.

She bit her lip and swallowed the fear trying to claw its way up her throat. The snow slowed him down, that’s all. Leaning away from the window, she brought her fist to her mouth. Frustration pooled with the fear in her gut, swirling into a toxic brew. I must keep busy.

She gripped the back of her chair, righted the thing, and shoved it under the table. Sighing, she cleaned up her jewelry making tools, opened the cabinet next to the sink, and stored her precious instruments on the shelf along with her gift for Aramond.

Stacked in the drying rack, the dishes called to her, giving her a purpose. Working quickly, she picked up the bowls and placed them in the cabinet. The spoons and forks were next, along with the plates and pans. She wiped down the counters with a dishcloth then worked on scrubbing the sink. When she was done, the sink’s stainless steel surface sparkled from her effort.

Through the window, only a few small snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky. Between the retreating clouds, the moon’s soft glow lit up the landscape, reflecting against the snow and the frozen crystals twinkled like miniature stars.

“Aramond, please come home.” Danae’s whispered words, meant for comfort, only inflamed the burning fear racing through her veins.