Page 71 of A Pack of Mistletoe
I look down at the box. It has baubles of every size and color. I lean over, plant a kiss on Evander’s cheek, and scent-mark his neck. He exhales like he’s been granted something, his shoulders relaxing under my mark. His smile turns radiant. My Starlight beams up at me and plucks a blue ball from the box, and I can’t help thinking how apt it is. But my dominant alpha nature isn’t what’s needed now.
I set the box down. Rose lifts the bauble to a branch. The tree glitters in front of us, strings of golden lights winding up through fresh pine boughs, casting a soft glow over her face. She stretches, the hem of her sweater lifting to expose her midriff, and hangs a delicate glass ornament that catches the firelight like a jewel.
Evander and Logan join in, carefully unwrapping baubles from tissue paper, their fingers dusted with flecks of glitter and pine sap. Kai moves quietly through the room, setting down steaming mugs of Wyatt’s cocoa on the low table—rich chocolate laced with peppermint and cinnamon—andarranging a plate of sugar-dusted cookies and gingerbread alphas beside them. The scents of chocolate, spice, and evergreen mingle with the low burn of the wood fire until the whole house smells like Christmas morning.
Evander scrolls on his phone and Bing Crosby’s velvet voice fills the air—Chestnuts roasting on an open fire.The crackling fireplace joins the song as if it were a drumbeat, sending waves of warmth rolling across the room. The Christmas lights flicker like captured stars, catching on strands of tinsel, on Rose’s hair, on the curve of her smile.
We start adding ornaments together, laughing as Kai tells the story of a younger Rose sneaking eggnog with him behind a Christmas tree at one of their parents’ parties freshman year of high school. She hides her face in her hands, but her cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink against her beautiful brown skin, and the sight of her framed by pine and twinkle lights makes my chest ache.
No one can resist touching her. Every time one of the alphas drifts past, a hand lands at her waist, brushes her hair back, or slides over the curve of her hip. It’s instinct, and it makes me both possessive and proud. I love our little universe orbiting her like this.
When “White Christmas” begins, I catch her hand and draw her toward me. She places her other palm over my heart and I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close. Around us, Kai and Wyatt, Evander and Logan all pair up too, swaying lazily to the music in front of the glowing tree. The soft thud of logs settling in the fireplace is the only percussion.
“Is everything going to be okay, alpha?” she asks softly, looking up at me with wide brown eyes. The twinkle lights reflect in them, and I can feel the rest of our pack listening, breathing in time with us. This is our pack now. Hers and mine. She’s giving me her trust. Whatever answer I give, she’ll believe.
“Yes, Starlight,” I murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll take care of it. I don’t want you wasting your energy worrying about it anymore.” I would move the world to make sure it stays that way.
When the song fades into silence, I realize the tree is nearly finished. Every branch glimmers with color. Gold and crimson baubles, strands of silver tinselcatching the soft light from the hearth. The air smells of pine and cocoa and the faint sweetness of peppermint as Rose perfumes and it lifts into the air.
Evander reaches into the box and lifts out the star. It'sherstar. The one my Starlight picked on the night of the tree lighting ceremony. It feels like a lifetime ago.
“Ready to add the final touch, Starlight?” I ask softly.
She nods, her smile warm enough to melt snow. I brace my hands on her sides and lift her easily, steadying her as she leans forward and places the shining star on top of the tree. It wobbles for a heartbeat, then settles perfectly, its golden glow reflecting off her cheeks.
For a long moment, none of us move. We stand together, arm in arm, our entire pack gathered close, with the scent of evergreen and cinnamon wrapping around us like a blanket. The multicolored lights shimmer across their faces, across hers, and for the first time, it feels like everything has fallen into place.
Our little family, our future, finally complete beneath the glow of a Christmas tree.
Rose
The whole table is in an uproar.
Even though Clara doesn’t work at the Café anymore, it’s still our favorite meeting spot. Cozy. Familiar. Safe.
A fire roars in the hearth, and Christmas garlands are strung across every available surface. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and nutmeg-laced pastries floats through the air, while instrumental carols play overhead.
The topic of discussion is a television show and whether or not there’ll be a proposal at the start of next season. I’ve never even seen the show, but I’m completely riveted. The table ispassionatelysplit down the middle.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I answer without checking the caller ID, figuring it’s one of the pack.
A deep alpha voice I haven’t heard in years cuts through me like ice.
“Rosalinda.”
I freeze.
“Benito,” I breathe.
Every omega at the table stops talking. Their eyes snap to mine.
I stand slowly, miming that I’m stepping outside to take the call. They nod, their faces creased with concern. Sunny picks up her phone, likely texting the Sterling Pack.
Outside, I take a breath of cold air that doesn’t do a damn thing to calm me.
“Why are you calling me, Benito?” I ask. Because I know, deep down, I know he wouldn’t reach out unless it was something big. Something real.
He’s too afraid of our parents to call just to say hello.
