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

Jen blew out a breath and tried to get her crazy under control. “Sorry. I’m being batshit again, aren’t I?”

“You’re being thorough.” A small smile of understanding came over his handsome face.

“I’m pretty sure no other male on the planet, in any realm, would put up with me the way you do.”

Decebel reached up and ran a finger down her cheek. He still touched her just as reverently as he had when they’d first realized they were mates, which humbled Jen to no end. She could feel through their bond that, regardless of the fact that she was not the easiest person to be mated to, he adored her. “I would kill any other male who attempted to put up with you the way I do.”

She snorted out a laugh. “Only you could take a sweet, tender moment and mention killing someone as a way to show your devotion.”

He shrugged as if talking about killing someone was a normal, everyday conversation. To be fair, for them, it sometimes was an everyday conversation, mostly because she loved to ruffle his fur. She was just about to tease him about it when Peri and Lucian appeared in the room, causing several people to jump. Judging by the smirk on Peri’s lips, she thoroughly enjoyed the reaction. A second later, Elle and Sorin appeared as well.

Jen glanced back down at her list. “Finally.” She sighed. The room was filled with talking, the sounds of breakfasts being prepared, and a few growls, which were ubiquitous when more than one dominant wolf was in the room with his mate. Jen rolled her eyes. As if any of the men in this room were interested in one of the other females that wasn’t sharing their bed. “Okay, now that everyone has dragged their butts from their beds—”

“Or showers,” Adam piped up with a cheeky grin. Crina elbowed him, her face turning a light red color. Her mate simply winked at her.

“Thank you for that image, Adam, I’ll add it to my—”

“You’ll add it to nothing, female. Get on with your long as—I mean really long list.” Decebel growled as he stumbled over his words to keep from cursing in front of their daughter.

“Killjoy,” she muttered, but then kept going because she had a lot to cover. “Now that everyone has dragged their butts from their beds and/or showers…”

“Thank you,” Adam bowed his head at her.

“We’ve got a lot to cover, so listen up, take notes, or record on your phones because I will not be repeating this crap.” She knew she totally would be repeating this crap, probably a million times, but the fewer times she did have to repeat herself, the better. “And I don’t want to hear any grumbling. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, with joy to the world, fa-la-las, and holly on your own front door, so I want to see some holiday freaking cheer.”

“I feel like we’ve been drafted into Christmas elf bootcamp, with no way to go AWOL,” someone whispered, but Jen didn’t know who because she was too busy looking at her list.

“All right, listen for your name and the squadron you’re assigned to.”

“Nailed it,” Jacque whispered as she high-fived Sally. “Elf bootcamp.”





Chapter 2





“On the second day of Christmas my werewolf gave to me two cursing pups and a furball in a fir tree.”

Go on and admit you just sang that out loud.” ~Jen





“First up…” Jen held up a finger to the group.

Sally kept shoving toast in her mouth to make sure she couldn’t smile or laugh. The healer was pretty sure Jen would throw her pen, or something heavier, if she did. Sally wasn’t interested in losing an eye for Christmas.

“Gavril and Rachel.” Jen scanned the room and found the couple leaning against the counter on the farthest side of the kitchen. Closest to the nearest escape route, Sally noted. Smart. “You two are the rugrat squad. For the next four weeks, all children below the age of six are under your command. Keep ’em from climbing in the trees, eating the fake holly berries, and…” Jen narrowed her eyes on Gavril, “… maybe work on Tiberius’s stealthy hunting skills. They suck.”

“Hey, Aunt Jen.” Titus grinned at her, unfazed. “Did you see my new Christmas sweater?”

“I did, and don’t worry, I’m saving up a fund for all the counseling you’re going to need when you grow up,” Jen replied, her eyes back on her list.

Sally was about to say something when Costin poked her in the side. “Leave it,” he whispered firmly.

“Great,” she said through their bond. “Now Uncle Gavril is probably going to teach Titus some hunting tips on how to incapacitate his prey. Next thing we know, Titus will try to catch Aunt Jen in a snare trap.”

“You’re being a little dramatic.”

“Really? Because our kid told us that Uncle Gavril said he should drug his Aunt Jen because she’d be easier to tie up that way. I don’t think that’s the best advice to give a four-year-old.” Sally tried to keep her body relaxed, even though she wished someone besides Gavril and Rachel had been given childcare duty.

“He’s not a regular four-year-old, Sally-mine. He’s a wolf. Learning to hunt is important. Gavril’s just working with what he’s got,” he pointed out. “Titus hasn’t shifted yet. He can’t exactly take him out to hunt rabbits. Besides, it might do Jen good to get caught in a snare trap.”