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

Zara laughed as joy filled her. She released Peri and then hugged Rachel, thanking her and then Sally.

“I’m sure Wadim would have been completely happy with your boobs as they were before,” said Jen. “But I bet he will be so thrilled about your happiness at your return of nipplehood that he will want to celebrate. And by celebrating, I totally mean he’ll be wanting to give them a personal congratulation. As a payback to his earlier buttheadedness, I think she should stay here all night.”

“Occasionally even a blind squirrel finds a nut.” Crina pointed at Jen. “I think that’s completely fair.”

The others laughed, but Zara simply smiled. Her mind was still focused on the fact that the last part of the remnants that Ander had left her with were gone. Zara felt free. Truly free.

“We need to talk.” Wadim’s voice filled her mind again. This time, his emotions were so strong she couldn’t keep the bond shut as tightly as she had been. Zara could feel him pushing on the wall she’d erected around her thoughts. She pictured his wolf running full steam ahead, plowing into them with his huge head. Or maybe that was an image Wadim was sending her. She couldn’t tell because she was losing the battle to keep him out.

“Okay, so as much as I would love to stay and celebrate…” Zara turned to look at Jen. “And no, I don’t mean celebrate by bringing the healed teets out to play.”

“Spoilsport,” Jen muttered.

“My mate requests my presence,” Zara finished.

“Requests?” Jacque asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Okay, more like demands,” Zara admitted with a sheepish shrug.

“That sounds more like one of our men,” Sally agreed.

“Don’t let him make you feel as if you made the wrong choice,” Jen told her.

“He wouldn’t do that.” Zara knew she was right. Wadim might be angry, but she didn’t think it was because she’d let Peri, Sally, and Rachel heal her.

“Just be honest with him,” Rachel told her, her face warm with understanding. “Usually when they’re upset, it’s because they just want to help, and they don’t know how.”

Zara nodded. “Thank you.” She looked around the room at each of the women present. “I’m so glad to have you girls as my family. I wish—” Her throat tightened at the thought of their former alpha female. Taking a deep, calming breath, she continued. “I wish Alina could be here. She would have loved this.”

“And she would have known exactly what to say.” Crina’s eyes glistened with tears.

They were all quiet, as if they each knew they needed to give a moment of silence for the leader they loved so much.

“You better go on and face your wolf,” Jacque encouraged a couple of minutes later. “If you wait too long, he’ll come barging in here and just cart you off like a Neanderthal.”

The rest of the females nodded their agreement.

Zara stood and set the mug down on the coffee table. As she headed for the door, Jen spoke up. “Take a few days off, Z. Straightening things out with your mate is priority number one, always.”

Zara glanced over her shoulder. “Should I make him build me something if he continues to be stubborn?” Her lips turned up in a small smile.

Jen’s eyes danced with humor, and she nodded. “A doghouse. With his name on the front, because that’s where he’s going to be sleeping if he doesn’t get his furball head out of his furball butt.”

“Good job on keeping it clean.” Sally smiled.

“Furball ass would have had a better punch to it,” Jen grumbled.

Zara laughed and stepped out into the corridor. As she closed the door behind her, she tried to get her thoughts in order for what she was going to say to her mate. His emotions were bombarding her, making it hard to concentrate.

“I’m coming to get you,” Wadim said suddenly.

“There’s no need. I’ll meet you in our room,” Zara replied. She felt his surprise and then his relief. “Here goes nothing,” Zara whispered.





Chapter 7





“On the seventh day of Christmas my werewolf gave to me seven perfect kisses, six packs of Oreos, five satisfied smiles, four hours of hotness, three growling males, two cursing pups, and a furball in a fir tree.

Jen’s not the only one who gets to make up the song.” ~Zara





Wadim paced the mansion’s archives, muttering. Every second his mate was not there with him was one second too many. The historian knew what was wrong, both with himself and his wolf, but he didn’t know how to tell Zara without scaring the living crap out of her.

His mate thought he didn’t want to complete their bond, which he knew made Zara feel as if he was rejecting her. And he’d given her every reason to think that, but not because it was true. In fact, it was the opposite. He wanted her so badly that he didn’t trust his own control. She’d been brutalized in the most horrific way a woman could be. Because of that, Zara didn’t need him pawing at her like a lust-filled teenage boy. She needed a man who could move slowly, gently, and with patience. When she’d told him she was ready, Wadim had to practically muzzle his wolf. Everything inside of him, every instinct, was telling him to carry her to their bed and strip her down, let her bite him, and make her his in every way possible. But the desire had been so strong it had paralyzed him. He hadn’t been able to move for fear of throwing her over his shoulder.