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

“Elle and I will take care of getting the cakes to the mansion. You guys stay put and out of trouble.” Peri picked up the first huge cake.

“I take it you’ve done some magic to keep out prying eyes?” Jacque said, glancing around the bakery.

“No, I totally forgot because I haven’t been a high fae for thousands of years,” Peri said dryly just before she flashed.

Jacque pursed her lips. “She’s funny. Not.”

“The nineties called,” Jen said. “It wants it’s saying back.”

“Really?” Jacque asked. “That’s interesting because I just had a call from your mom’s vagina. Apparently there’s been a recall on all children born from it in the year 1993.”

“Really?” Jen frowned. “Because I thought I read somewhere that 1993 was like the cream of the crop year for children being born.”

“Thanks for that. I was born in 1994,” Sally pointed out.

“Are Peri and Elle done yet?” Rachel glanced around the empty bakery.

“Why? This is better than television.” Zara motioned toward Jen and her two friends. “They’re like that Saturday Night Live show: unscripted comedy that never stops.”

“Don’t encourage them.” Peri appeared right next to Zara. “It’s like feeding the animals at a zoo—highly discouraged.” She held out her arms, and Elle, who’d appeared a second later, did the same thing. “Let’s go. The furballs are getting restless.”

“Baby.” Decebel’s voice was filled with humor as he spoke through their bond. “The cakes…”

“Are awesome. I know. I totally outdid myself.”

“Exactly. That’s exactly what I was going to say,” he choked out around his laughter.

“Thought so.”

“I love you and your awesome cakes. Now come home.”

“Bossy.”

His voice deepened to a purr. “You weren’t complaining last night.”

No, no she hadn’t been. But she wasn’t about to admit that to him.





Chapter 11





“On the eleventh day of Christmas my werewolf gave to me eleven dozen headless werewolves, ten Jen cakes, nine werewolves prancing, eight laughing females, 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.

How many of you can make those words work in this song without screwing it up? Yes, I’m laughing at you as you try to sing it.” ~Jen





Fane stood staring at the desk he’d inherited much too soon. He’d yet to sit in the chair that had once been his father’s. Even being in his da’s office was occasionally difficult. Most times, it was a kick to the gut when he initially walked in, but then after a few deep breaths, he was able to get his emotions under control. Today was Christmas Eve. It was the first Christmas Eve in his life that he would spend without his parents. It was the first Christmas Eve his son would ever experience, and the boy’s grandparents would not be there to watch as Slate learned the joy of unwrapping a gift. There would be singing … but without the sound of his mother’s sweet voice. There would be hurried chaos … but without the calming presence of his father.

Fane clenched his jaw to keep the pain at bay, something he found himself doing often these days. There were brief moments, he was beginning to notice, when he didn’t miss them more than life itself. But other times, the reality of their loss hit him like a freight train, and he found himself unable to breathe. This was one of the freight train moments.

Warm arms wrapped around him from behind, and immediately the pressing feeling of their loss subsided, if only but a little. His mate’s face pressed into his back. Fane placed his hands on top of Jacquelyn’s and rubbed her soft skin. His wolf breathed in her precious scent and released a contented sigh.

“I love you, Alpha.” She pressed herself tighter against him.

His eyes closed as her words washed over him. Though he missed his father desperately, Fane was not uncomfortable in the position he had inherited. He had spent little time imagining himself as alpha. Fane had been too young to seriously consider what the job would entail, and a small part of him had always thought his father would be there forever. But if he would have been asked, the word daunting would have come to mind. And though he now knew the magnitude of his responsibility, he also knew that it was exactly what he had been created for. His path had been set, and the Great Luna had called him to it. She would not let his foot slip, and his mate, his constant champion, reminded him of that often. Even if it was with just one word. Alpha.

“And I love you, Luna,” he whispered back.

They stared out into the slowly darkening night, watching as the stars lit up the sky and snow fell. Pack members were coming up the driveway, some of them driving and others trotting up in their wolf form, carrying bags in their mouths, which no doubt contained their clothes.

“My mom would have loved this.” His throat was tight as he watched each member arrive. There were smiles on their faces and a sense of excitement that had not been present for months.

“She would have,” Jaquelyn agreed. “She would have hugged every single member and made sure they felt as welcome as those who live in this mansion.”