A Very Wolfie Christmas

A Very Wolfie Christmas

A Snowdania Wolves Short

Sofia Grey

Copyright 2014
Sofia Grey

Smashwords
Edition

ISBN:
9781310174438

Copyright ©
2014 by Sofia Grey

All Rights
Reserved

This book is a
work of fiction.

While reference
might be made to actual historical events or existing locations,
the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product
of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this
publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the
author.

Manufactured in
the United States of America

Acelette
Press

Table of
Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Epilogue

More by Sofia Grey

About Sofia Grey

It just wasn’t
right. Sasha stared at the brass band from behind his sunglasses,
and wondered for possibly the millionth time if he’d ever get used
to this. The musicians played on, barely drawing breath as they
segued from
Silent Night
to
Oh Little Town of
Bethlehem
.

Shoppers surged
past him, some dropping coins into the collecting buckets, others
just dodging around the musicians. Nobody paid him any attention.
Standing there in his T-shirt, denim shorts reaching past his
knees, and flip flops on his feet, he blended easily with the
crowd, especially since he also carried a number of brightly
coloured shopping bags. Christmas presents. Even if it didn’t feel
like Christmas.

It was the
twenty-fourth of December, and yet the sun blazed down, and the
temperature nudged twenty-seven degrees. He should be wrapped up in
a quilted jacket, ankle deep in snow, not sweltering in the middle
of summer.

With a sigh, he
turned and set off toward the bookshop. One more thing to buy, and
then he could call it a day and go home. Well, his current home,
not his real one.

He loved Megan
and couldn’t begin to imagine a life without her, but he missed
Snowdonia. The dull ache of homesickness surged, and for a moment
he felt lost. If he could do anything at all right now, he’d grab
Megan by the hand and take her back to the Welsh mountains he came
from. He’d shift into his wolf form and run, bounding through the
snow to circle back to his Mate. He imagined her throwing
snowballs, while he chased after them, playful as a pup.

Maybe one day.
He’d agreed to live here in New Zealand for another year, possibly
two, and he didn’t break his promises. Not only did it make Megan
happy to stay close to her family, but Sasha had taken on an
important role with the resident wolf pack, and his pride demanded
he see it through.

Thinking of
Megan, he dug a hand into his pocket, and touched the little box
that sat there. Would she like it, or would she think it too soon
for such a commitment? Not for the first time, he wished he’d paid
better attention to his cousin Jake’s courtship of a
non-shifter.

He paused
again, bemused by a sparkling window display. A row of Santas
wearing board shorts and sunglasses? Shaking his head, he moved
on.

****

Sasha hauled
the shopping bags up the steps to his front door, and let himself
into the house. The first thing he saw was the Christmas tree, and
he felt another wave of homesickness. He knew it made sense to have
an artificial tree in this heat—after all, a real tree would be
dead in a few days, to say nothing of the insects that would infest
it—but it was just something else that was wrong.

Back home, his
parents always squeezed a monster fir tree into their lounge, its
top scraping the ceiling. That was how Christmas trees were
supposed to be, every branch creaking under the weight of baubles
and lights and ornaments. And chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil.
Man, he loved those, but they were impossible here. They’d melt
within hours.

He stashed his
parcels underneath the small neat tree, and thought about Megan.
Would she like his presents? This was their first Christmas
together, and he had no idea what she expected. What her traditions
were like. Back home, they’d swap one present each at midnight on
Christmas Eve, then open the rest after a fun and relaxed breakfast
the next morning. Sasha always shared breakfast making with his
twin sister, Tammy, to give their mum a break.

Dinner would be
a giant roast with a mountain of vegetables, and his mum’s special
homemade gravy. A dense, fragrant Christmas pudding would follow,
and then after they’d cleared away all the dishes, they’d go and
run in the snow. He’d missed the traditions last year, while
exploring New Zealand, but he’d fully expected to be home by
now.

He’d never
imagined finding his Mate. Was there any chance of spending
Christmas Day alone with Megan? Their first together,

When in Rome,
he reminded himself. They’d have to visit her family, and he’d
behave, play nicely with her over-protective brothers, and be
polite to her father and stepmother. Although the barriers were
slowly dropping, they were all still wary of him, and he hoped he
didn’t have to spend too much time with them.

What the hell
was wrong with him? He never used to be like this. Mopey and
introspective. He had a Mate now, the woman he loved more than life
itself, and he would do anything to make her happy. Even be
friendly to her brothers.

He heard a car
engine outside, and then doors banging, and he hurried to the
window. Megan was home. His mood soared. He trotted down the steps,
met her on the street, and swept her off her feet with his
embrace.

“
Cariad
.
”
He nuzzled her throat, and just like that,
his wolf settled. With his Mate in his arms, her caramel-spice
scent swirling around him, he couldn’t fail to be happy.

“Hey, babe.”
She squeezed him back. “Give me a hand with the shopping?”

“Always.” He
dropped a tender kiss on her lips, and then turned his attention to
her bags. There weren’t many, only two garish plastic bags of
groceries and one from the city’s premier department store. “Is
this everything?” She’d told him she was picking up the groceries
on her way home, and for a normal week, there’d be six or seven
bags. For a holiday period, when they’d both be at home—and hoped
to entertain friends—this didn’t look right.

Megan grabbed
the glossy paper bag, and he dutifully picked up the food, after a
quick peek at the contents. Milk, eggs and bacon. A loaf of bread.
Some apples. A bottle of maple syrup. He was carrying the makings
of a good brunch, but not much else.

His heart sank.
This could mean only one thing. They weren’t spending much of
Christmas at home.

With the
groceries dumped on the kitchen table, and his hands now free,
Sasha took the opportunity to hold his Mate. Her thick, dark hair
was soft beneath his fingers, and her luscious curves were enough
to make his mouth water. “Why don’t we start celebrating early?” he
murmured in her ear. “You can get out of your work clothes, and
into something more comfortable. Or stay naked—that works for me.”
His wolf yipped in agreement, and Megan giggled.

“Tempting, but
we don’t have time right now.” She wrapped her arms around his
neck, her breasts pressing against his chest, and it took every
ounce of his self-restraint to hold back from peeling her right out
of her work suit.

He had to make
do with sliding his hands up the back of her skirt, and palming her
delectable ass. If he were a poet, he’d write sonnets about her
ass. He hadn’t stroked her skin since this morning, and he could
think of little else. Wait. What did she say? “We don’t have time,
because…?” he asked.

Megan sighed.
“We’re due at my dad’s. Don’t tell me you forgot the plan.”

Sasha racked
his brains to remember what the plan had been, and came up empty.
He’d told Megan that he was happy to go along with whatever she
liked. He’d hoped it meant spending most of the holiday in each
other’s arms. Maybe not. “Wanna tell me what we’re doing?” He tried
to sound enthusiastic.

“Well”—she blew
out a breath, and his heart plummeted even further—“there’s a
barbecue this evening, and Dad wants me there early. There’s some
crisis or other.”

Okay. He could
manage that. Megan’s father was a high-ranking politician, and
always on the move, fixing a multitude of problems, while shaking
hands and smiling for the media. It meant Megan and her brothers
came under the spotlight more than Sasha was comfortable with, but
he was learning to deal with it.

“Sure. You got
time to shower first? I think you might need some help scrubbing
your back.”

“Sasha.” Her
voice was firm, but her curving lips showed her amusement. “Do you
only think about sex?”

“Hey, who
mentioned sex? I was just offering to scrub your back.” He ran his
fingers up her spine, and enjoyed the way she trembled. “If you
can’t keep your hands off me while we’re there, it’s not my
fault.”

“Really, babe,
we don’t have time. I had to stay late at work, and then the
supermarket was packed, and the traffic was horrendous. We’re
already late.”

Sasha’s wolf
whined inside him, but he pasted on a smile. “Come on, then. The
sooner we go, the sooner we’re back.”

Megan’s gaze
skittered away to the window and the brilliant sunshine
outside.

Uh oh.

“Do you mind if
we stay overnight? Come back Boxing Day?” she asked.

He was on the
verge of pointing out that was two nights, but the anxious furrow
in her brow made him pause. This had to be important to her. His
last daydream of a quiet and secluded Christmas evaporated.

Sasha had never
seen so many cars at Megan’s home. The gravelled forecourt held at
least a dozen, with more abandoned along the driveway. “Wow. How
many people have been invited?”

She glanced at
him, the anxious lines creasing her forehead again. “This is normal
for Christmas Eve drinks. It’ll be fun, Sasha.”

She didn’t
sound convinced, and doubt settled in the pit of his stomach. His
wolf whined some more, and scratched at him. His animal didn’t want
to be here either. Feeling like a lamb led to slaughter, he
followed her into the house, their hands tightly linked.

Megan had
changed into a tantalisingly short denim skirt that showed miles of
golden leg, and Sasha cheered himself up by imagining what he’d do
later. It involved kissing from her ankles to her thighs, and
then—when she asked him nicely—devouring her pussy and making her
come. Repeatedly.

Lost in
thought, he glanced up to see her older brothers, Alex and Hugh. Or
Hellspawn, as he still thought of them. They greeted Megan with
enthusiasm, and then nodded politely to Sasha. No baiting comments
this evening. Odd. Maybe they called a truce for the holiday
season.

It wasn’t that
he disliked her siblings. On the contrary, he respected the hell
out of them for being so protective of Megan, but at the same time,
they could be giant pains in the ass.

“Hey, Sasha.”
Alex stood from his perch on a chiller box. “Want a cold one?”

“Sure. Thanks.”
Sasha accepted the beer, popped the top, and took a swig. Yeah, had
to be a temporary ceasefire.

Megan slid her
arm around his waist, and then snagged a glass of wine from a
passing waitress. “I need to go mingle for a little while. Will you
be okay here?”

“We’ll be
fine,” said Alex, an innocent smile on his face. “Dad was looking
for you, anyway.”

“I won’t be
long.” She gave Sasha a swift peck on the lips, and then hurried
away. Mesmerised, he watched her swaying hips, as she crossed the
vast expanse of wooden deck toward her father.

“She’s amazing
with his constituents.” Alex gestured at Megan with his beer
bottle, and Sasha noted the care with which the other man spoke. As
though he was slightly drunk already. Alex and Hugh had spent
several evenings trying to drink Sasha under the table, and failed
miserably every time. It wasn’t a fair contest, but he’d never
admit to that. His shifter metabolism was better at processing
alcohol. That was all.

“We’re planning
a night out,” announced Hugh. “Meggie thinks we should drink more.
Uh,
do
more. As a group, y’know. So we’re going clubbing.
Next weekend.”