The Macconwood Manor was an incredible property, Clara had never really spent any time there, and she was impressed by the sheer size and luxury of it all. The ballroom was decorated for the Christmas holiday. With pine garland, Maccon blue velvet ribbons and silver bells on every wall and table along with poinsettias and elegant Christmas roses.
Everyone was dressed up in gowns and tuxes, the women beautiful, the men regal. Even the children wore their best holiday attire. Tables were brimming with fine food and wine. Boughs of holly and mistletoe hung liberally throughout, encouraging playful shenanigans among the many mated pairs in attendance.
A band played holiday tunes, couples danced, and Clara was positively glowing with happiness. She turned to her stunning mate, a sympathetic grin on her face as he tugged on his bowtie.
“What?”
“Nothing. This just isn’t me,” he shrugged looking down at his outfit.
“Get rid of the tie,” she laughed and turned to face him.
He was wearing a slim fit blue velvet jacket over black pants. Beneath the jacket was black t-shirt with an image of Santa Claus that read I Do It For The Ho’s. For some reason, the love of her life decided a plaid bowtie would dress it up.
“You think it would be okay without it?”
“Yes, Kurt. Nix the tie,” she replied, and took it off his neck.
Clara wore a long sleeved silver gown that fell to the floor and clung to her curves with a pair of matching flats. Her long hair was down, cascading over one shoulder. Her only jewelry was her engagement ring.
“How’s the leg?”
“It’s okay,” she replied. “Good in fact.”
“Good. Did I wish you a happy birthday, yet?” Her mate asked, smiling at her with his emerald eyes so full of love her breath got caught in her throat.
“Yes, several times,” she added, biting her lower lip as she recalled the first three birthday presents he gave her that very morning.
Hell. It was a miracle she could stand, let alone walk.
“I see well, how about Merry Christmas then?” He wiggled his eyebrows, and she laughed, kissing him back when he lowered his head.
Clara never dreamed love could be like this. So easy and comfortable. Kurt had seen her at her worst. He’d stayed by her side and offered her love and support. HE wrapped her in his arms and began to glide her around to the cheerful music.
She loved him so much, she thought, smiling into his emerald eyes. It was almost overwhelming. This sudden knowledge that this man loved her.
Clara didn’t know if she could ever dream of deserving him. But she sure as fuck was sticking around to try. No more punishing herself for things she could not change. Clara was going to love her life, starting now.
“Thank you.”
Clara stopped his swaying suddenly and took his face in her hands. He was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. Didn’t know how folks got him confused with his brother. Dib was good looking, but where his face seemed stern to her, Kurt was all tenderness and kindness. Her heart pounded just looking at him.
Mine.
“Thank me? For what?”
“Loving me.”
“Hell, baby, loving you is easy. I should be thanking you,” he whispered, and dropped a kiss on her lips.
“Well, look who it is!” Charley Maccon interrupted the couple with her mate on her arm.
“Hello Clara, Kurt,” Rafe smiled.
“Good evening,” Kurt replied, his arm around Clara’s waist.
“Enjoying yourself?” Charley asked.
“Everything is so wonderful! Merry Christmas,” Clara replied.
“Thank you. Merry Christmas to you, and happy birthday! I also understand congratulations are in order.”
“Yes. Thank you.” Clara said, feeling her cheeks warm at the attention.
“Thank you, Charley. I am one lucky Wolf,” Kurt added, looking down at Clara.
“You mean you agreed to marry him with his fashion sense? Bless you, Clara!” Charley teased, and the two couples laughed.
There was a small commotion at the doors, and she turned to see that Delia had arrived. And her sister wasn’t alone. With her was Taylor, the Druid priestess she’d been dating, and Adriel, the leader of the Talmhain Coven, along with two of her guards, one Witch and one Druid based on their robes.
The older female gazed around the room till she spotted the two couples and nodded at her entourage before heading over. Clara was curious. She’d read the treaty and thought Kurt had done an amazing job on it. She just hoped the priestess was amenable.
Her she-Wolf pushed forwards, the beast ready to protect her mate at all costs. As if he sensed her caution, his arm around her waist tightened and he leaned more heavily on her, the weight soothing to her animal.
“Greetings,” Adriel said.
“Welcome to the Macconwood Manor,” Charley stepped forward, as elegant and graceful as any Alpha fem and offered a nod to their guests.
“Thank you. I do not believe in prolonging discussion when a few words will suffice,” she opened her hand and one of her guards placed a thick envelope inside it.
“The Talmhain Coven will accept your treaty. Mr. Lowell did an outstanding job laying out the terms,” she said with a glance at Kurt, who nodded his thanks.
“I was surprised to learn two of your Wolves had ties to our community, and I was doubtful of your acceptance. But since the Crescent sisters have been welcomed with open arms, I am even more determined to go forward.”
“Of course, we welcome them, and all their added bonuses. Pack is family,” Rafe replied.
“Yes. It is how we feel as well. Tell me, Clara, have you learned what your gift is yet?”
“My gift?” Clara asked.
“It is your twenty-seventh birthday, correct? A special number for our kind.”
“She did sort of glow at midnight,” Kurt mumbled.
“Yes, that does happen sometimes. If you require help, please do not hesitate to ask.”
The high priestess just smiled, as did the Witch and Druid with her. She turned to Rafe and held the envelope up.
“Shall we go somewhere to sign, Alpha?”
“Yes, please come this way.”
Rafe and Charley led the party to his office, and Delia winked as she turned towards the food table with Taylor. Pack politics aside, the Christmas Ball was under way, and it was past time Clara enjoy it with her mate.
They ate and drank, exchanged silly gag gifts, and sang songs. Clara was just taking a turn around the dance floor with Kurt when she spotted the Alpha’s triplets in the corner. Little Val had his arm around his sister, and Owen was glaring at the enormous, decorated tree in the corner.
“What’s up with them?” Kurt wondered, and Clara pulled him to a stop.
“We better see,” she said.
“Hey guys, what’s going on?”
“Oh, Auntie Cwawa!” Raffaella rushed to her near hysterics.
She embraced the little girl while Kurt listened to her brothers explain how they’d been under the tree searching for presents when they spotted some brown branches in the back.
“The twee is dying! Poor pwetty twee,” Raffaella wailed, her adorable little lisp tugging at Clara’s heart.
“Oh no! There now, come on, let’s see what we can do about that,” she stood up and took the toddler’s hand.
“It’s true,” Kurt whispered, arms full of the two boys who were crying now as well. “There are brown branches in the back. The heat was probably turned on too high and the thing dried out quicker than we’d imagined.”
“Hmm,” Clara said, handing the little girl over to Kurt while she went to inspect the branches.
A crowd started to gather, but she paid them no mind. Her entire focus on the triplets’ misery at the poor, dying Christmas tree. Her body grew warm, and she felt as if the entire party was fading away from her. All she could hear was her own slow and steady breathing as she reached out and touched the tall, noble fir.
Despite the root ball being carefully planted in a large ceramic base, the tree was indeed dying. Frowning, Clara lightly traced the branches, urging the tree to find purpose and happiness in being there with the children.
Her she-Wolf howled deep and low in the metaphysical plane where her beast waited. She knew the second Kurt’s Wolf joined in the song. Her heart filled with light and love, the joy of being alive, and she shared that joy with the tree.
Clara felt her body hum and vibrate with the Wolves’ song, and with something else. Something new, strong, bright, and good. As she touched the branches, she watched calmly as brown turned to green, dry to lush, and dying to living.
“Wow!”
“Look at that!”
“Auntie Cwawa saved the twee!”
Once the warm glow and humming vibrations stopped, Clara startled. When did the whole ball converge to watch her? A wave of dizziness hit her, and she began to slide to the floor, but Kurt was there to catch her.
“Easy, baby, I got you.”
His worry seeped into her, but she was fine, she needed him to know that. She just couldn’t talk. Not yet. He rushed her over to a chair and sat her down, holding her face in his hands.
“Clara? Can you hear me?”
Slowly, she came back to herself.
“Yes, I’m sorry, I just don’t know what happened.”
“What happened?” He smiled at her and shook his head. “You saved the tree, Clara!”
“I did what now?”
“And so you learned your gift, Miss Crescent,” Adriel said, coming to join them, having observed what she’d done. “You have the power of healing. It is rare and can be draining, but you will learn, I am sure. We will talk more about this. Good evening.”
“A healer?” She mused, looking back at her mate.
“She said it was draining, are you tired? Want to go lay down somewhere? Do you need a doctor?”
Her mate was so adorable when he was worried about taking care of her. But she was fine. And she would tell him as soon as he allowed her a word. The experience with the Christmas tree had been eye opening. She’d connected light and life in a way she never would have thought possible before knowing him.
“Clara, what can I do to help?” Kurt asked.
“Take me home. Love me,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“That I can do,” he replied, and his emerald eyes glittered with heat and intent as he carried her out the door.
“Thank you, Clara! Merry Christmas you two!”
Rafe and Charley sent them off with well wishes and everyone was thrilled with the way she’d saved the tree and Kurt had handled the treaty. The Pack was welcoming, and the Alpha was not a tyrant like his father, after all.
Clara and Kurt could stay in Maccon City. They did not have to uproot their lives, which was a huge relief. She was pretty sure she’d been offered a position as an honored Wolf Guard.
Turning twenty-seven did bring an unexpected boon from her Druid ancestry, which turned out to be an incredible gift. Her mate had even proposed to her. And now that she knew she was a Sigma and not an Alpha rogue, her Wolf was blissfully content. Although that probably had more to do with her mate than not.
Everything had fallen into place, Clara mused as Kurt drove the short distance home. Like the old seer had told her Gran, it all started on Solstice. With her Wolf.
“What are you thinking?” Kurt asked as he turned off the engine.
“I am thinking that I am so lucky that I finally found you, my Solstice Wolf.”
“I am the lucky one, baby. I love you.” She loved it when he called her that. And Wolf that he was, he knew it too.
“Love you too, Kurt. And when we get inside, I’m going to show you how much.”
“What the heck are we waiting for?”
He jumped out of the truck and had her door open before she could blink. Her mate’s appetite for her was insatiable, and she loved every minute of it. It was a powerful and humbling thing, knowing he wanted her as desperately as she wanted him.
Many hours later, when they finally came up for air, it was to the sound of sleigh bells jingling in the sky.
“What’s that sound?” Clara asked, stretching her deliciously sore limbs from her position sprawled across their enormous bed.
“That’s my heart, baby, and it’s beating only for you.”
“Oh please, no more, with the bad poetry,” she moaned and covered her eyes with her arm in full drama queen mode.
“What was that? I thought I wooed you with my poetry,” Kurt growled playfully.
He was on her like lightning tickling her ribs and making her giggle with glee. Snow kept falling outside and those bells were still echoing in the distance. It was a perfect Christmas. Their first one together, and she could not wait for more.
Later that morning, they woke to find two wrapped presents beneath the tree.
One was a book on Druid magic that had been out of print for a couple of hundred years and had Clara gasping at the beauty of it. The other was a paperback copy of Writing Poetry for Dummies. Kurt scratched his head, and Clara just smiled.
She softened the blow by giving him an extra special gift after they’d had a hearty breakfast. Her mighty she-Wolf approving of how well she took care of their mate.
“Love you, baby,” he whispered, snuggling her closer to his side.
Clara and Kurt had finally stopped running from their Fate, sharing such love and happiness that it would last the whole long span of their lives. Their story would be the topic of conversation among the Pack and their families for many Solstices and Christmas to come.
The end.
Liked this story? Don’t stop now! Werewolf Fever is next in the Macconwood Pack Novel Series, and don’t forget the Tales! Happy Awooooooooo!