A Wolf's Claim (A BBW Paranormal Christmas Romance): The Holiday Ball (2 page)

Gunner stood beside him, scarred in both body and soul. And Hayden didn’t know how to fix him. He was alpha of his pack and one of his own was hurting. His own brother for fuck’s sake, and he had no idea how to help him.

Hayden pressed a hand to his shoulder. A month ago, Gunner wouldn’t have allowed the touch. Progress, Hayden thought. Progress.

“Later.” Gunner spoke. “Take care of your mate.” He turned and walked away before Hayden could stop him.

Lucas and Hayden watched as Gunner left. Lucas sighed heavily. “Will he get better?”

“Yes. In time. Now, tell me what you think of my mate.”

His younger brother turned his attention back to the crowd. “I still don’t…oh, yeah, I see her. Man, she’s built like a brick—”

The low growl made Lucas grin. “Sorry.”

Hayden patted the hard ridge of muscle beneath Lucas’s suit. His brother might be younger, but he was just as broad and strong as his two older brothers.

Hayden put down his empty glass. “It’s time for me to go hunting.”

“Mother, what did you do?” Maggie Jones watched as her daughter walked to the restroom. Or at least tried to. Every third step or so, she would stop as if she was trying to regain her balance. Which she probably was. Maggie read her daughter’s aura and saw the blue sparkles that surrounded her.

She narrowed her eyes as she looked at her mother. No one would ever guess the woman with the bright blue eyes was old enough to be the matriarch of the witches’ coven. The only outward sign of her age was her silver-gray hair. If she cast a spell and put some color back in her hair, she wouldn’t look a day over thirty.

Patting her own still reddish brown locks, Maggie wondered if her mother chose to go silver because of her. Their features were similar and witches didn’t age like humans. If Ruth did choose to dye her hair, they would easily pass for sisters.

While Amber shared their features—no one could ever doubt she was a Jones witch, what with her bright blue eyes—she had too much of her father in her to look identical to the two other women. Which was a good thing. Amber needed her own identity. Maggie sighed as she watched her daughter carefully maneuver herself through the crowd. She knew her daughter disliked the curves that nature had bestowed upon her and refused to see the beauty in them. She and her husband had done everything they could to instill confidence in their young daughter. They had succeeded. Mostly. Except where men were concerned.

“You were never meant to be the one to convince her.”

“Would you stop that!” Despite knowing how to block mind reading from most supernaturals, Ruth could read Maggie’s mind when she was emotionally upset no matter how many shields she had in place. “And you’re just trying to change the subject. What did you put in Amber’s drink?”

She’d seen the slight wave of her mother’s hand over the champagne flute before she’d taken it from the tray and handed it to Amber, but had thought nothing of it at the time. Not every hand gesture by a witch was a potential act of magic. But after seeing Amber making her way through the crowd on less than steady legs…Her mother was mischievous. And slightly devious. She hadn’t risen to the head of the coven by being a good witch all of the time.

Ruth shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of the champagne in her hand, grimacing slightly. It had warmed considerably. She blew across the top of the glass, chilling the liquid. Just a little trick she had picked up over the years. “I might have added a little pixie dust to her drink. That’s all.” Pixie dust had a tendency to decrease one’s sexual inhibitions. And play havoc with a witch’s intuition. Amber wouldn’t know the wolf was her mate until it was all over but the wedding.

“Mother!”

“Her mate is here, Maggie. Did you want her to turn broom and run? Cause that was what she was about to do.”

Ruth tried not to laugh as her daughter sputtered, trying to answer back. That had taken the wind right out of her sails.

“A mate?”

“Yes, dear. A mate. Her mate.”

A beautiful smile spread across Maggie’s face and she clapped in excitement. “Which one? Where is he?” Her head whipped around, trying to find Amber’s future husband.

There was so much sexual tension in the room, unless she had a flash of insight, Maggie wouldn’t be able to tell which male was meant for Amber. Until they mated. Ruth’s gaze was drawn to the balcony hidden in the shadows above the room. A secret smile curved her lips. If she wasn’t mistaken, Christmas was going to be a magical time for
two
Jones’ witches.

“Momma, you have to tell me.”

“I believe that is him right there.” Both women turned to see the tall, muscular man, making his way smoothly, but insistently, through the crowd. Sensing the commanding presence, the bodies parted as he approached. “On the hunt, if I’m not mistaken.”

Hayden loosened the knot on his bowtie as he followed his mate. He had no need to exert his alpha power, the people parted for him as he strode through the crowd. He automatically returned the greetings called out to him, but didn’t stop. His wolf was on the hunt. He took another deep breath, quickly isolating her fragrance.

She smelled of water and earth. And a sharp, spicy scent that reminded him of a fire burning clean and bright. Mmm, what exactly were his little mate’s powers? He knew she was a witch because her magic called to his wolf. He’d never seen her before, which wasn’t strange considering he’d attended only a handful of these balls over the years, much to his father’s regret.

And his now.

But he’d been too young, too foolish to take a mate and make her happy. Now, well hell, now he had no choice. His wolf was tugging hard at the leash he’d put around it years ago, trying to get free and follow its mate. He frowned when she stumbled again, this time bumping into a wolf from another pack. Any single supernatural who wanted to attend the Holiday Ball could. But the shifters were more interested in finding mates than anyone else and right now there were too many horny wolves running around for Hayden’s liking.

Just as the other wolf was about to take his mate into his arms, Hayden put on a burst of supernatural speed, arriving before the wolf could do much more than touch her shoulders.

“I’ve got this, Kade.” He couldn’t help the snarl that escaped as he snatched his mate from the rival alpha.

Kade Townsend, stepped back, his hands raised as if to ward off any misunderstanding. “My bad.”

Once Hayden had calmed down, Kade stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. And grinned like a fool. The woman who had the two wolves about to fight over her like a Christmas ham bone, snuggled against Hayden and caused the other man to moan and push her away slightly. For the first time that night, Kade actually felt like smiling. Hayden’s balls had to be ready to burst if the pheromones permeating the air were anything to go by.

“Hey, if you don’t want her, I’ll gladly take her off your hands.”

“Leave.” The command was uttered by an alpha and most wolves would have had very little choice but to obey. Since Kade was also a natural born alpha, the power behind the word had very little effect.

“We both know you’re a player, Barringer. Don’t forget what’s most important.”

Hayden gazed down at the woman he held in his arms. Under the twinkling lights, her skin looked as if it was being kissed by a thousand fairies. “I was a player, Townsend.” He shifted his gaze back to the other wolf. “Now, leave,” he snapped, his wolf riding the surface of his control.

With a nod, and one last smirk, Kade turned back into the crowd, using his alpha power to steer anyone away who might interfere with Hayden and his new mate. Hayden stored the gesture away, hoping he might one day repay the other alpha. Right now, the most important thing was getting to know his mate. Well, and fucking her.

“You smell like Christmas cookies.” A pair of bright blue eyes stared up at him. He didn’t know whether he should laugh or groan. He was just glad Kade had left before she’d spoken. What alpha wanted to be compared to sugar cookies?

He stroked the midnight blue hair away from her face. Her alabaster skin was almost transparent in its paleness. “No, babe, I think that’s you.”

As soon as the stranger spoke, all of Amber’s senses came alive. Especially her pussy. “It’s you!”

“I do not smell like vanilla.”

If she’d been a little more sober—what the heck was going on with that anyway?—she might have smiled at the affronted tone in his voice. She made a grab at the lapels of his suit to steady herself. The feel of his chest distracted her. The muscles beneath her hands flexed and the buttons on his shirt strained as if trying to contain all that male goodness.

Okay, she had lost her train of thought. But who wouldn’t when you had your hands on such a fine specimen of a wolf?

Wolf. Ball. Yeah, that was it. She shook her head, swearing she saw blue sparkles when she did. “You’re the one who was talking inside my head. You’re not supposed to be able to do that.”

“Says who?” Again, that smooth velvet voice that dampened her panties.

“I, um.” She tried to pull away and he allowed it. A little. She found herself standing in the circle of his arms, his hold supporting her. Heck, why were her legs so wobbly? She looked around, trying desperately to locate her mother or grandmother. Anyone she knew.

The man’s beautiful brown eyes narrowed as if he guessed she wanted to run. The intense expression on his face made her pussy weep. God, he was beautiful. Her knees weakened again.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you someplace more comfortable.” He swung her up in his arms and was striding out of the ballroom before she could say boo. The motion made her dizzy and her arms twined around his neck. For someone so short, being up so high was a unique experience. He was at least six-four, which put him a head taller than her five-five frame. The room whirled a little as he moved and she saw sparkles of blue once again.

She couldn’t stop herself from trailing her fingers along the broad expanse of his shoulders. He was so big. His arms bulged against the fabric of his suit. First, the buttons of his shirt and now this. Would she get lucky and his clothes just pop right off him? No doubt, he was used to it. He was a wolf after all, stripping and shifting in front of his pack mates was the norm.

She was the one who had issues with being naked.

Thinking of that, she realized he was carrying her as if she weighed next-to-nothing. But that still didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt himself. “You better put me down now.”

He didn’t stop his ground-eating strides, but did focus all his attention on her. Before, he had been staring straight ahead as if marching into battle. “Why, are you feeling ill?”

She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. She wished she could enjoy this lovely interlude, but she knew it would end even before it really ever begun. “No, but you’re going to hurt yourself, carrying me like this.”

A deep rumble sounded beneath her ear and she realized he was laughing.

“What, you’re afraid to admit you’re not such a big, bad wolf and can’t carry me very far?”

The man jerked to a sudden stop, his arms closing around her with a bruising force.

His eyes that had once been a deep, chocolate brown flared with a beautiful gold color. She’d never seen that color in a wolf’s eyes before.

He lowered his head until he was looking directly into her eyes, his breath a moist sensation against her mouth. “Don’t. Ever. Challenge. A wolf.”

As she stared into the swirling mist of brown and gold, she felt a tug inside her. He growled and her insides turned to liquid. She thought for a moment he was going to kiss her. Instead, he continued through the archway at the back of the ballroom and into the spacious foyer.

This part of the large mansion also resembled a winter landscape. He was moving so quickly, she only got a vague sense of snowflakes, white fir trees, and blue twinkling lights. Wait, she didn’t think those were part of the decorations. But what were they?

“Can I ask where we’re going?”

“Upstairs.”

“Oh, is it that kind of party?” She licked her lips. She’d never been to one, but she’d heard stories of the sex parties wolves liked to throw. And The Holiday Ball was probably the biggest of them all.

He took the stairs two at a time, swiftly navigating the circular staircase. She grew dizzy again as they moved. The embossed wallpaper seemed to be swirling around them in a silvery haze. Why the heck was she so tipsy after only two glasses of champagne? Or had it been three?

When they neared the top of the staircase, the wolf slowed as he looked down at her. “Would you mind if it was that kind of a party?”

He was so handsome. And big. She ran her hands over the tops of his broad shoulders. She’d said and done that before, hadn’t she? She wanted to lick him all over, starting with the strong, tanned column of his throat. “Not if I’m with you.”

He let out a growl so loud it sounded like a howl. It did echo off the walls and she was positive everyone downstairs had heard it. Any other time she would have winced, imagining what others would think if they had seen her leave the ballroom with this man.

But not this time.

This time the goody-good witch was ready for some adventure.