A Grey Wolves Howliday (The Grey Wolves #14) by Quinn Loftis

Finally, perhaps because the whole thing was her idea, and she loved a girls’ night more than anyone, Jen let everyone quit work at five in the afternoon instead of midnight. After that, despite growlings, rumblings, and downright whining from the males, the girls’ night was a go.

Zara walked into the library, and her heart immediately felt lighter when she heard “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” playing lightly in the background. Several girls sat around on the couches and floor, holding cups of hot chocolate and eggnog, talking and laughing. She stood for several moments, taking in the scene. Considering Zara barely remembered the last time she’d celebrated Christmas, she was almost overwhelmed. She bit her lip and tried to get her emotions under control. She’d been on a roller coaster of them the past six days, and she was ready to get off the damn ride.

Somehow, she’d managed to keep herself from blurting out all of her frustrations in the middle of the day, mainly because Jen was a demanding commander and had decided if she played Christmas music loudly while they were decorating then they wouldn’t be able to stop and speak to each other. It had worked. Yelling over Bing Crosby got old quickly.

“You going to stand there and admire our fine asses all night, or are you going to get your own fine ass in here and drink up?” Jen lay on the floor on her stomach, her legs kicked up behind her, swinging gently. She was holding a mug of hot chocolate in one hand and two Oreos in the other. It was the most relaxed Zara had seen her in a week and a half.

“Pipe down, bossy woman.” Zara walked into the room and took an offered cup from Jacque.

Bethany patted an empty seat beside her on the couch. She had her feet propped up on the coffee table, and Elle was sitting on the floor next to them. She touched Bethany’s foot, and the toenails suddenly turned green. “What about this?” Elle asked.

Zara grinned. Elle was painting Bethany’s toenails—fae style.

“Can you do them alternating red and green?” Bethany asked.

Elle rolled her eyes. “I already did that one and you said, ‘Can you do them all one color?’”

“I changed my mind.” Bethany smiled sweetly.

“This is the last time, Bethy,” Elle huffed. “And I’m only doing this because you can’t reach your freaking feet.”

“Why does she need her toenails painted if she can’t even see them?” Zara asked as she sat.

“Because she also needs a bikini wax and I refuse to do that.” Elle screwed her face up into a look of horror.

“I offered,” Jen said.

“Of course, you did.” Zara laughed.

“Drake intervened.” Jen sighed. “Stupid wolves and their possessiveness. I pointed out that I’m a chick. And he said I have a mate who can see inside my head. As if Dec would look at Bethany’s junk through my thoughts. There are just some things we don’t share with our furballs, amIright?” Her words slurred together, making it perfectly clear to Zara that Jen’s hot chocolate was a little more than chocolate.

“You’re totally right,” Rachel agreed. “It’s not like I leave my memories of helping deliver babies lying around in my mind for Gavril to get a glimpse of. He’d be scarred for life.”

“Stretched out vaginas.” Jen shuddered. “You’d never get him near yours again.”

“Holy crap, Jen. Time to lay off the special ‘sweetener’ in the hot chocolate.” Jacque moaned.

“At least she didn’t use the P word,” Sally pointed out. “So, she’s not as tipsy as she could be.”

“Yes,” Peri agreed, “but, for the sake of her mate’s sanity, let’s try to keep her from getting P word intoxicated.”

“Are y’all talking about pussies?” Jen asked.

“And there it is.” Bethany held up her drink and pointed at Jen.

“No,” Elle said emphatically, shaking her head as she moved to lean against the chair where Peri sat. “We are talking about…” Elle glanced around the room until her eyes landed on Zara, whose face had lit up with curiosity. “Zara. Remember, Jen? Zara needed an education and something about a book.”

Jen’s drink sloshed over the side as she whipped her legs around to sit on her butt. “That’s right.” She crammed the cookies, both of them, impressively, in her mouth. Then she tried to speak. Not impressive. “Sumfing’s urp wif you and Wadding,” she said, spewing crumbs all over Zara’s face.

“Dude, now we know where Thia gets it from.” Crina motioned to Jen. “I thought it was her age, but she’s just copying her mom.”

Jen shot Crina the finger, which made Zara snort. Crina didn’t seem bothered in the least. Jen finally swallowed. “I’m not going to interrogate you.”

“Yes, she is,” three voices said at once.

“But things between you and history boy seem tense. I’ve only seen Wadim tense a few times in the years I’ve known him,” Jen said.

Crina nodded. “He rarely gets worked up.”

Zara had been debating how much to say. She didn’t want to say something that would make Wadim upset—more upset—but she also needed to talk to someone. Although, maybe spilling her guts about their relationship to a room full of eight other women wasn’t exactly the best course of action.