Mated At Christmas Read online

  Mated at Christmas

  Mila Crawford

  Aria Cole

  Contents

  Mated At Christmas

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  First Epilogue

  Second Epilogue

  Also by Author

  Where To Find The Authors

  Copyright © 2019 by Mila Crawford & Aria Cole

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  As a mountain lion shifter in the Bare Mountain Pride, Nolan Peters has protected and served his family with unwavering loyalty for years, but the moment he scents the vulnerable human lost in a Christmas Eve blizzard, he knows she's what he's been missing.

  His mate.

  Driven out into the storm in search of her missing father, Gwen McGuire is shocked to find herself in dangerous territory and blurring boundaries with a strange man who makes her feel unfamiliar and thrilling things.

  Gwen can't explain his hold over her and is even more confused when Nolan insists she come home with him. His ability to sway her body's reaction in his favor leaves her breathless and wanting so much more, but nothing could prepare her for the fact that when a member of the Bare Mountain Pride mates...it's for life.

  Warning: The men of the Bare Mountain Pride are all alpha, all the time. Rough around the edges with soft and gooey centers, these lion shifters don't take no for an answer once they've found their fated mate!

  1

  Gwen

  For as long as I could remember, Christmas Eve was always my dad, me, and a pound of lasagna. We always threw a traditional Christmas dinner when I was younger, but then mom died and it just never felt right. So our tradition became lasagna and apple pie for dessert. My dad always made it, but he wasn’t the best cook. His lasagna was always overcooked and the pasta hard and burnt. Over the years I discovered a love for cooking and eventually took over. Since then the lasagna has been perfect and my father’s favorite meal.

  I glanced at the clock and noticed that it was seven thirty. Panic started to prick my skin and shadow my mind. My father was always home at six on the dot. I tried calling him then, but the call went directly to voicemail. Looking out the large bay window in our living room, I scanned the road. Living in the country meant that the only lights I could see at night were the blaring stars, no streetlights or business, just the sky and the ominous trees encroaching on us.

  I always loved living in the outskirts of the mountains. Even though I’d never ventured in there, I always found them soothing on my psyche. Whenever I’d talked of hiking up the mountain, I was always warned of the dangers—half man, half beast creatures that showed no mercy to an outsider. I’d never really believed those stories as a child. They seemed more like cautionary tales that adults told children to keep them away from danger.

  As I grew older, I'd noticed the adults in town didn’t even go in the deep woods that surrounded the base of the mountain. It was almost an unwritten rule. We didn’t go into the woods or up the mountain, and no creature was ever seen on the streets of our town.

  There really was no reason for me to think my father had gone into the great unknown, but there was something pulling me to check anyway. I had no plans of venturing far, just the outskirts.

  As soon as I opened the door of our cozy home, I was greeted with the eerie blackness of the night and I could hear the distant howls coming from way up in the mountains. The air lingered against my skin in a frosty chill. I could almost smell the frigidity of winter hovering in the air, just waiting for the perfect moment to unleash itself and forcing me to pull my scarf tighter around my neck to keep in the warmth.

  I pulled out the emergency flashlight from my coat pocket and smiled, remembering how my father always insisted I keep one in case I had to venture out at night. I personally thought it was absurd, but it made my dad feel like he was keeping me safe in a small way, so I'd let it go.

  And now, as I walked down the abandoned road, casually peppered with houses many miles apart from each other, I was grateful for his paranoia.

  After walking in the midst of complete darkness for what felt like hours, I finally slowed, deflated and defeated, my heart pumping wildly and my worries consuming me…when I finally saw it—my father's car, with the lights still on, the passenger door and the trunk wide open.

  Fear is a very real thing. Unlike other emotions, it completely rules the system. My body launched into full alert, adrenaline spiking and sending my senses into hyperdrive. I looked around wildly in the night, hating my own vision as it hindered any hope I had of being able to see. I knew one thing and one thing only: I had to find my dad. No matter how frightened I was, I knew that even in that moment, I had to be brave.

  Walking up to the car, I noticed that my father's rifle, the one he kept in the trunk of his car for hunting, was missing.

  2

  Nolan

  Taunting roars pierced the midnight air as I steered my truck down the dark and twisty road. Fresh snow fell in torrents, but still, my window was down. The cool air on my skin kept my blood pumping, and it was harder than hell to hear the subtle cracks and howls of the night over the hum of the engine.

  And I needed to listen tonight.

  I’d heard the faint call of my pride miles away. I knew a few of the young ones had gone out hunting earlier, but the joyous cries of their voices sounded nothing like the triumphant roars of a fresh kill.

  Plus, there’d been a familiar scent in the air.

  I couldn’t place it, but I was drawn to it just the same. So instead of shifting to meet the pride, I’d decided to investigate what they’d found from a more subtle perspective. Mostly, I wanted to see what the cubs were up to without them realizing—if I shifted, they’d sense me coming from a mile away.

  My truck rumbled over the old bridge outside of town when another roar caught my ear, close to the road and closer than I was comfortable closer to the town lines.

  The creatures that lived here, human and shifter, had an understanding—stay to your own territory and don’t look for any trouble. Some of the Alphas were able to cross the line because we had the self-control, but for the most part we stayed with our own kind.

  The young ones in the pride had yet to master that self-control. They were absolutely forbidden to leave the mountains. Training the cubs to not play with humans was a challenge, especially with the boys. All those hormones made them wild, and it took a firm hand to bring them into submission. I’d been known to have a bit of fun myself in my younger years, but nothing that was harmful to anyone.

  And now that I was the Alpha of the pack, things like fun weren’t on the radar anymore. Most of my days were spent worrying about the pride and making sure everything was tended to and taken care of.

  Another chorus of roars shattered the midnight air, forcing me to pull my truck off the road and cut the engine.

  That was when I heard it.

  A human.

  Begging for his life.

  “Hey!” A snarl tore through me as I launched myself into the woods, speeding closer and closer to the sound of the chaos until I happened upon them. A tiny clearing with five of the youngest males in my pack, teeth bared and taunting a frail old man, his hands covering his eyes as he begged them to let him be. “What is this?”

  Five sets of eyes iced over when they met mine.
All of them bowed their heads, backing away from the whimpering human, tiny pricks of blood lashing his hands and cheeks.

  “How many times do you need to be told that the humans aren’t here for your enjoyment?” I hauled the man up, careful not to jar him too much, as his eyes looked glazed over, the sour smell of fear so strong that all other scents became almost obsolete. “This man’s in shock. You know what it does for them to see us?”

  I shook my head, lifting the old man into my arms and backing out the way I’d come.

  “Enough hunting for tonight. Go home. I’ll deal with each of you tomorrow.” My eyes hardened as I left my parting words. “Right now.” I roared, letting the Alpha Lion come out in my eyes.

  The five of them turned, running as if on fire, tails tucked as they sped from the clearing and back to our territory.

  “Fucking kids,” I spat as I trudged through the knee-deep snow, careful when I returned to the truck and eased the old man into the seat beside me.

  He moved slowly, his pale face seeming to warm up along with his fingers once I blasted the heat.

  I watched him wearily, thinking this violated just about every treaty the humans and lion pack had tried to put into place to prevent a total breakdown in our societies. My gaze moved over his weathered old body, gloves missing and hands packed tight with ice and snow. He must have been walking for hours, and even if my pack hadn’t have found him, he’d probably not have lasted the night, with temperatures dipping twenty below zero and lower.

  And the more the heat blasted in the truck, the more his old body seemed to thaw. The scent of fear should have been so strong that it would be beyond powerful in my nostrils, but there was something else there, a faint trace that by most lions would have been missed, but to me the scent was sweet, one of comfort, something that we smelled only when around loved ones.

  The scent was so fucking strong I couldn't think straight. It gave me an odd sense of being home.

  “Where can I bring you, sir?” I muttered, feeling like I had to get him out of my truck or I might claw my insides out. I hated that a human’s scent was pulling at me in this strange way.

  “My car’s right up the road, I think…around the bend.” His words were groggy as his arthritic finger pointed put the windshield. “Where are we again?”

  I suppressed a groan, forcing my truck into drive and using my extra-keen eyesight to ease us into the blizzard.

  “Pretty ridiculous night to be out driving, if you ask me. Could've gotten yourself killed.”

  He only mumbled something about Christmas and apple pie, but I didn’t catch the rest because just then a figure appeared in the glow of the headlights.

  The scent of Christmas trees and apple pie hit my nose, the feeling of home leaking into every nerve of my body. Tingles ran in a torrent through me as my heart battered the inside of my rib cage.

  Without knowing why I was doing it, I slipped the truck into Park in the middle of the road and launched out of the cab, leaving the door hanging open as I went to the figure, head down as she tried to fend off the driving snow.

  I grabbed her small form by the shoulders, forcing her head up. A crimson red knit hat with two fluffy white balls perched on top was the first thing I saw.

  The next thing?

  Two warm blue eyes shining through the dark and melting my heart.

  My mate.

  3

  Gwen

  I didn’t even see him approaching me, just the blare of distant headlights, and then the lights cut and two strong hands were on my shoulders. I turned around, fear gripping me, my body on hyperalert, and then I saw them—beautiful emerald green eyes staring back at my own. Fear that I should have kept feeling, along with the sense of unease and doom vanished as if I had known the stranger my entire life.

  “What are you doing out here in the dark? Don’t you know what kind of danger is out here?” He spat out the words, enunciating every syllable. He seemed desperate for me to completely understand what he was saying. His words were true, but my love for my father overruled my own sense of self-preservation.

  “My father… H-He's missing. He's never late coming home on Christmas Eve. I need to find him.” The stranger moved me toward the car, opening the driver’s side door and helping me calmly and gently onto the seat.

  “It’s cold. It’s dark. This isn’t the best time to look for anything. You must be freezing. Hold on.”

  I watched as he walked away, going to his trunk. He emerged with a large wool blanket and wrapped it around me meticulously, making sure every inch of my body was covered. I looked over to his truck and noticed another figure in the passenger seat. His head was slumped to the side, as if unable to move it easily, shoulders hunched over, and though he was shrouded in darkness and shadows, I could make out familiar features.

  “Dad.” The word rushed out of me, entwined in relief and worry. What was my dad doing with this stranger, and why did he look injured? I shred the wool blanket off my body, pushing past the stranger and rushing to the passenger seat. Opening the car door, I audibly gasped. My father tumbled into my arms, a bruise visible on the side of his face, perhaps from a fall or, God forbid, an attack.

  “Daddy! Are you okay? Oh my God, what happened to you?” I asked, desperation and fear lacing my words. I knew being hysterical wouldn’t help anything, but my worry for my father was taking all control of my senses. My hands shook as I desperately tried to gather my father in my arms, feeling overwhelmed by his dead weight. It was apparent that he had no strength and needed help even sitting up.

  The stranger ran up to me, using his own strength to lift both myself and my father up.

  “Steady. Please let me help.” His voice was soft, yet strong and forceful. I allowed him to do what he could, not just out of desperation—even though I was—but also because there was something about him that made every fiber in my being demand that I trust him. He picked up my father and gently placed him back in the truck before turning to me. His eyes looked concerned, and there was an abundance of kindness in them.

  “I'm taking you both home. Don’t worry about the car. I'll make sure it’s taken care of. We need to get your dad someplace safe and warm. He needs tending to, maybe medically.” Turning away from me, he opened the small back door of the truck and offered his hand to me, I took it and allowed him to help me into the warm cab.

  We drove in silence back to my house, but throughout our journey, I could feel the stranger checking up on me in the rearview mirror. I felt myself get hot, self-conscious about his unwavering stare.

  “I'm sorry,” he whispered, averting his eyes, catching on to my feelings.

  When we got to the house, I jumped out and ran to unlock the door. I left it open and ran back to my father and the stranger. My father was already in the stranger’s arms as they rushed to get inside.

  “Grab some blankets and something hot for him to drink,” the man said, placing my father on the leather sofa.

  I quickly went to the linen closet and came back with three thick blankets. When I got back to the living room, the stranger had taken my father's outer layer of clothing off. Grabbing the blankets from me, he swaddled my father, making sure he was comfortable and warm. His kindness and caring warmed my heart in so many ways. I rushed to the kitchen and put the kettle on, and once the hot water was done, I made two cups of tea. I was sure the stranger would need the warmth and comfort of a warm drink. I handed one to him and then turned to help my father take small sips.

  “He's going to be okay. He just needs some rest and a little drink in him.” He smiled warmly. “Thank you for this.” He lifted his cup to me.

  “Thank you. If it hadn’t been for you, God knows what would have happened.”

  “There is no need to thank me. This was all fate.”

  Fate.

  I wondered what he meant by that. It was a very strange way to think of all of this, but then again, a lot of this was strange.

  The strangest of it all wa
s how familiar this man was, even though I‘d never laid eyes on him before—somehow, it felt like I was meant to know him.

  4

  Nolan

  “I’d be a monster if I let you stay here.” I swiped a fine layer of snow off the windowsill. I could feel the cool air rushing in at the old corners, the tiny fire lit in the corner wood stove hardly enough to heat this room, much less the damn cottage.

  “What do you mean? This is our home. I was born in this cottage.” Her words were soft and sweet. I was proud of her for being brave and speaking up, but it didn’t change how I felt about this situation or her.

  “Do you have a radio? They’ve been calling this blizzard for days in advance—” my eyes scanned the tiny living room “—and you’ve got only enough wood to last another day at the most.”

  Her cheeks were red and rosy. I imagined if I darted my thumbs across the apples of her cheeks, they’d be cool and silky and then warm with my touch. I shivered at the thought of my greedy hands on her soft skin. I couldn’t wait to make her mine in all sense of the word.

  Mate.

  There was no question of that. The way I’d picked up her scent just clinging to her father’s clothes through the woods, something that’d drawn me in, meant to save his life and find her in one moment.

  “What would you have us do?” The fear lacing her words pulled me from my thoughts on my body’s reaction to her. “We can’t just leave. It’s only been Daddy and me since my mother passed…”