Jude Mercer boards the plane on December 22nd with a six-month-old baby, two bags containing everything she owns, and $47 to her name. She shifts Bonnie higher on her hip, her diaper bag sliding off her shoulder for the third time. She almost turns to ask Ryan for help before remembering. Right, Ryan left seven months ago.
It’s just her now. Her seat is double-booked. The man in 23E barely glances at his boarding pass before refusing to move. Jude braces herself to be kicked off the plane entirely when the flight attendant pulls her aside.
“We have one seat in first class. Would that work? ”
First class on Christmas week, for free. Maybe there’s some magic left after all.
The attendant leads her through the curtain into what feels like a different universe. Soft lighting, actual legroom, leather seats. Jude’s still thanking the attendant as she sets down her bag when she looks up, and the words die in her throat. The window seat is occupied by a man who is not merely handsome.
He’s beautiful in a way that makes her forget how to function. Dark hair slightly tousled, strong jawline, expensive charcoal suit. He’s staring out the window with an intensity that suggests he’s either deep in thought or deliberately ignoring her existence. Jude discreetly lowers her nose to her own shirt and inhales.
Yep. She smells like regurgitation and sweat, and she’s about to sit next to that for two hours. She settles in as quietly as possible. Bonnie gets squirmy, making little grunting sounds.
“Sorry,” Jude whispers toward the man. “We’ll try to stay quiet. ”
No response. He doesn’t even glance over.
Right. So she’s invisible. She gets Bonnie situated with a bottle, which buys maybe twenty minutes of peace. The plane begins to taxi.
The man closes his laptop but still doesn’t look her way. Jude tries to stay awake, she really does. But she hasn’t slept in thirty-six hours. The seat is comfortable, the cabin warm, Bonnie content for the first time in hours.
She’s asleep before she can stop herself. She doesn’t see the man finally turn to look at her. Doesn’t see his expression shift from surprise to something softer as he takes in the sleeping woman and baby. Jude wakes to the feeling of something warm and solid beneath her cheek.
For one blissful, disoriented moment, she can’t remember where she is. Then awareness trickles in. A firm shoulder, the scent of expensive cologne, steady breathing beside her. Her eyes snap open.
Oh no. She’s draped across the hot businessman’s shoulder like he’s a pillow she ordered off Amazon. And her mouth feels suspiciously dry, which means she was probably drooling. She shifts carefully, trying to unstick her cheek from his suit jacket without making it obvious.
She looks up. He’s staring right at her. His eyes are dark, intense, unfairly beautiful, and very, very awake. “Oh god,” she blurts, jerking upright.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t trying to—”
“I wasn’t sleeping,” Jude hears herself say in a rush, which is possibly the stupidest lie she’s ever told. “I was meditating.
It’s a thing. A breathing exercise. ”
He raises both eyebrows. “You drool when you meditate?
” he asks, voice dry as desert sand. Jude wants the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She’s sputtering, face burning. “I’m sorry about your jacket.
I can pay for dry cleaning. Do you take Venmo? I have like $47. ”
But she stops because she’s just noticed something else.
He’s holding Bonnie. Her baby is sitting calmly on his lap, one of his large hands supporting her back, the other gently bouncing her. Bonnie is gurgling, happy, content in the arms of a complete stranger. “What are you doing?
” The words come out sharper than Jude intends. Maternal panic overriding embarrassment. The man doesn’t flinch. His expression stays calm, almost patient.
“She woke up fussing about twenty minutes ago. You were finally sleeping. I didn’t want her to wake you. ” He glances down at Bonnie, something softening in his face.
“I remember what it’s like when they’re this age. I never slept either. ”
Jude blinks. Oh.
He’s a dad. Not just a gorgeous, intimidating businessman. A father. “I’m Landon,” he says.
“Landon Harlo. ”
“Jude. Jude Mercer. ” She reaches out to take Bonnie back.
“And this is Bonnie, who apparently likes you better than her own mother. ”
“I doubt that. ”
Jude’s about to ask where he’s heading for Christmas when the plane lurches hard. Her stomach drops.
Passengers gasp. Overhead bins rattle. Bonnie lets out a startled cry. Landon moves fast, impossibly fast.
One second Jude’s holding Bonnie, the next his hands are there steadying both of them, his body angling to shield them. “I’ve got you,” he says, voice calm and certain. “Hold her close. ”
The pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom, strained.
Severe weather. Emergency landing at a regional airport. Emergency landing. Around them, people are panicking.
A woman is crying. A man grips his armrests so hard his knuckles are white. But Landon is a wall of calm. “Look at me,” he says to Jude, his voice cutting through her rising panic.
“Breathe. We’re going to be fine. I promise. ”
She doesn’t know why she believes him, but she does.
The descent is rough. The wheels hit hard. The plane bounces once, twice, then settles with a screech of brakes and a collective exhale from every passenger. They’re down.
Safe. “You okay? ” Landon asks quietly. “Yeah,” she manages.
“Thanks to you. ”
His expression shifts, something warm flickering in those dark eyes. “Anytime. ”
Jude has the strangest feeling he means it.
—
The regional airport is dismal. Half the overhead lights are flickering, most shops have their gates down, and snow is falling hard. Aggressive, biting flurries. The airline counter line is already forming.
Jude takes her place at the back. A woman in front turns around. “Miss, do you want to go ahead? You’ve got your hands full.
”
The small crowd parts, and suddenly Jude’s at the counter. “All flights are grounded,” the tired-looking woman says flatly. “Nothing going out until tomorrow morning at the earliest. ”
Tomorrow.
Her connecting flight out of Portland departed tonight at nine. She’s missed it. “Everything’s booked solid through Christmas. I’m sorry.
”
Jude’s chin starts trembling. She bites the inside of her cheek hard. She finds an empty seat and drops into it. Bonnie starts fussing.
Jude forces herself to move, zipping open her suitcase for a warmer jacket and fleece blanket. “Come here, baby,” she murmurs. “Let’s get you warm. ”
Bonnie grabs a fistful of Jude’s hair and yanks hard.
Jude smiles. “You’re very strong, you know that. ” Bonnie laughs, that pure, delighted baby laugh. Jude glances up and sees Landon by the windows, phone pressed to his ear.
Of course. Someone’s coming to get him. Footsteps approach. “Jude.
”
She looks up. Landon stands in front of her, coat draped over one arm. “Are you going to be all right? ”
“Yeah, of course.
We’re fine. The airline said they’d call when something opens up. ”
Landon frowns. “You should at least get a hotel room somewhere warm to wait.
”
Jude watches him walk away, her forced smile crumbling. She pulls out her phone with shaking hands. $47. Not enough for a hotel.
Not even close. Bonnie’s whimpering escalates into real crying. Jude tries to bounce her, shush her. It’s not working.
And suddenly Jude is crying too. Silent tears streaming down her face while she rocks her wailing daughter in a dingy airport terminal on December 22nd with nowhere to go. “Hey. ”
Jude’s head jerks up.
Landon is back. He looks uncomfortable, like he couldn’t make himself leave. “Did you find a hotel? ” he asks gently.
Jude can’t answer. Can’t make the lie come out. He sits down beside her, not too close, but near enough that his presence feels solid. “It’s going to be okay.
”
“I don’t have enough money,” Jude hears herself say through tears. “For a hotel. That’s why I’m going back to my grandma’s even though we don’t get along. I lost my apartment after my husband left.
Everything I own is in this suitcase. And now I’m stuck here with my baby. ” She cuts herself off, mortified. “I’m sorry.
You should go. Your ride is probably—”
“Don’t apologize,” Landon says firmly. “It’s perfectly all right to need help sometimes. I’ll book you a room.
”
“No, I can’t let you pay for—”
“You can pay me back when you’re settled if that makes you feel better. ”
He makes call after call. Every hotel is sold out. With each rejection, Jude watches the hope drain from his face.
“Sir,” a man in a dark suit approaches. “The car is ready for you outside whenever you’re set. ”
“Thanks, Grayson. Just give me another minute.
”
Landon turns back to Jude. “Come with me,” he says. Jude blinks. “What?
”
“Come where? To my house. There’s plenty of room. You and Bonnie can stay until the flights resume.
”
“I don’t even know you. ”
Landon shifts, looking almost nervous. “My entire family is going to be there. My parents, my thirteen-year-old daughter, River.
My brother and his family arrive tomorrow. It’s not just me in some isolated house. ” He glances toward the window where the snow is now a full blizzard. “It’s a lot better than spending Christmas Eve in this airport.
”
Jude’s mind is racing. In the bathroom, she changes Bonnie’s diaper and pulls out her phone. She types “Landon Harlo” into the search bar. CEO of Harlo Industries, tech company worth millions, photos at charity galas.
She stares down at Bonnie. “What do you think, baby girl? Should we trust the handsome stranger? ”
Bonnie grabs her nose.
Jude takes that as a yes. “Okay,” Jude says when she returns. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.
”
The relief on his face is immediate. He reaches for her suitcase, lifting it like it weighs nothing. Jude follows him toward the exit, Bonnie bundled against her chest. Through the glass doors, she can see a sleek black SUV waiting at the curb.
The snow is falling harder now. Jude is about to get into a stranger’s car. —
The SUV glides through dark streets, smooth and quiet enough that Bonnie falls asleep in Jude’s arms. Jude stares out the window, watching the neighborhoods change.
The houses get bigger, the lots get wider. “Almost there,” Landon says. Jude turns to look at him, and for just a second, his eyes seem to glow. Gold, bright, catching the light wrong.
She blinks hard. When she looks again, they’re perfectly normal. Dark. Must have been the streetlights.
The SUV slows in front of an ornate iron gate, which slides open smoothly. They turn onto a long winding driveway, and Jude’s jaw drops. Landon’s estate is massive—three stories of beautiful stone and timber, tall windows glowing golden, light spilling out onto snow-covered grounds. Jude’s breathing picks up.
This isn’t just wealthy. This is the kind of rich she’s only ever seen in magazines. “Full disclosure,” Landon says suddenly. “My dad makes terrible jokes.
”
“Dad jokes,” Landon clarifies, looking almost embarrassed. “Really bad ones. Just warning you. ”
It’s such a normal thing to worry about.
Reassuring. The SUV stops. A tall man steps out onto the porch, grinning wide. “Welcome!
Come on, hurry inside. Don’t keep the baby out in this wind. ”
Jude hears Landon tell the driver to stay the night. “Understood, Alpha.
”
Jude frowns. Alpha? That’s weird. Must be some corporate thing.
The entrance hall is enormous. Marble floors, grand staircase, but decorated for Christmas in a way that feels homey. Garland on the banister, massive tree in the corner, the smell of pine and cinnamon. The tall man pulls her into a bear hug, enveloping both her and Bonnie.
“I’m Declan, Landon’s father. And who’s this little pup? ”
“This is Bonnie. ”
Declan beams.
“Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Welcome to our home. ”
“Declan.
” A quiet voice carries authority. Jude looks past Declan to see an elegant woman near the staircase. Light blonde hair, poised. “I’m Algra,” she says, offering a polite smile.
“It’s nice to meet you. ” Her eyes take in Jude and Bonnie with an assessing quality. Landon shows her to a guest room. Jude walks in and gasps—not because of the room, though it’s gorgeous, but because of what’s waiting inside.
A brand-new car seat. A portable crib, already assembled. A mountain of stuffed animals and toys. Shopping bags overflowing with baby clothes, diapers, blankets, bottles, formula.
Everything still has tags on it. Jude turns slowly to stare at Landon. “What is all this? ”
“Just some necessities.
”
“Necessities? ” Jude’s voice goes up an octave. “I made a few calls from the car. ”
“I can’t accept all this.
”
“You can. ” His voice is firm. “Bonnie needs these things. ”
“But I can’t pay you back.
”
“I’m not asking you to. ”
Jude holds Bonnie like a shield, overwhelmed. “Are you sure? About us being here?
Your mother seemed—”
“My mother’s just protective. She’ll warm up. ”
He steps closer, and Jude catches that scent again. Woodsy, masculine.
“If the flights don’t clear up by Christmas Eve,” he continues, his dark eyes holding hers, “you’re welcome to spend the holiday with us. ”
Jude’s brain momentarily short-circuits. “That’s very generous, but I don’t want to intrude. ”
“You wouldn’t be intruding.
I mean it. You and Bonnie are welcome here. ”
Her face feels hot. She knows she’s blushing.
This is ridiculous. She met this man six hours ago. But the way he’s looking at her, and the way it feels to have someone take care of her for once—it’s intoxicating. —
Jude wakes to soft winter light.
For one disoriented moment, she has no idea where she is. Then it comes back. The plane, the airport, Landon. And then panic hits.
Where’s Bonnie? She scrambles to the crib. Her daughter is just lying there, awake and content, staring at the mobile of stars above her. “You slept through the night,” Jude whispers.
“You’ve never done that before. Not once. ”
Downstairs, Algra is at the stove. Jude settles Bonnie’s carrier on the island.
“This one slept through the whole night for the first time ever. ”
“So,” Algra says, “will your husband be joining us for Christmas, Jude? ”
“I’m not married. ”
Algra glances at Bonnie, then back at Jude.
“The father’s not in the picture. ”
“No. ”
“Good morning, my darlings! ” Declan bursts into the kitchen, sweeping Algra into his arms and twirling her across the floor.
He dips her dramatically, plants a loud kiss on her lips, and Algra actually laughs. Then he zeroes in on Bonnie. “And there’s my favorite little pup. Come to Grandpa Declan.
”
Landon walks in, dark hair still damp, fitted black t-shirt, dark jeans. Jude’s mouth goes dry. He pours coffee and slides it across the island to her. “Did you sleep well, Jude?
”
Her face goes nuclear. “Great. Fantastic. The bed was—I mean, the room was wonderful.
Thank you. ”
The kitchen becomes chaos. Landon’s brother Beckett arrives with his wife Lauren and two seven-year-old twins, Jared and Freya. The twins immediately spot Bonnie.
“Is that a baby? Can we hold her? ”
Everyone is settling at the table when the room goes quiet. A teenage girl stands in the doorway.
Tall, dark hair, Landon’s jawline, green eyes. River. Lauren and Beckett jump up to greet her. River stands stiff, not hugging back.
She doesn’t look at Landon, not once. She slides into a seat at the far end of the table, as far from her father as possible. Bonnie makes a gurgling sound, and River’s gaze snaps to the baby. For just a second, her expression lightens.
Landon clears his throat. “River, I thought maybe after breakfast we could—”
“I have plans. ”
“River, I’m not working today. ”
“Oh, so I should just drop everything ’cause you’re free?
” River snaps. “I’m not hungry. ”
She walks out. The silence is excruciating.
Landon sits frozen, his hands clenched into fists. —
Later, Landon takes Jude on a tour of the property. They walk toward the stables, and Jude asks carefully, “Is River okay with us being here? ”
“You’re not causing problems.
River and I… Her mom left three years ago. I guess we haven’t recovered. ”
“I’m sorry.
Breakups are hard. ”
“I meant the relationship with River. What really hurt was watching the woman I once loved abandon our daughter like that and having her suffer for it. ”
Jude shifts Bonnie.
“Ryan left when Bonnie was two months old. Just packed his stuff one morning. He never wanted to be a father. ”
Landon looks at her, and something passes between them.
Understanding. Two people who have been abandoned. —
The next morning, Jude finds River playing with Bonnie in the breakfast nook. River stacks wooden blocks while Bonnie tries to knock them down.
The chef tells Jude about Sophia, Landon’s grandmother, who used to make chocolate chip cookies with nutmeg and cinnamon every Christmas. “Him and Beckett would fight over the crumbs. ”
Jude gets the recipe, and later that day she slips into the kitchen. The rhythm of baking is soothing.
She used to do this with her mother. “What’s all this? ” Landon appears in the doorway, sniffing the air. “Your grandmother’s cookies.
The chef gave me the recipe. I wanted to do something nice for you. ”
Landon’s eyes go wide. “How much longer?
”
Jude chuckles. They work side by side, and it feels full instead of empty. Landon washes mixing bowls, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Their eyes meet once, twice, three times.
Each time they smile, small secret smiles that make Jude’s stomach flip. The timer dings. “You have to wait for them to cool. ”
“Worth it,” Landon mutters.
He stands close, close enough that Jude can smell that woodsy scent. “You have some—” He reaches out slowly. She doesn’t pull away. He uses the back of his fingers to gently wipe her cheekbone.
His fingers linger. He flips his hand, cupping her face. “Landon,” Jude whispers. He shudders.
His head drops lower. Jude can feel his breath on her lips. Her eyes start to close. “Stop.
Just stop this. ”
The voice is sharp, angry. Jude’s blood freezes. River stands in the doorway, Bonnie in her arms, her face twisted with emotion.
Anger. Fear. Landon’s hand drops away. He moves back, and Jude is suddenly devastatingly cold.
“River, I know this must be—” Jude starts. “River’s eyes flash. Literally flash. Gold, bright, inhuman.
“What do you think you’re doing? What are you doing here? ” Her voice rises. “With all of us.
You don’t belong. You’re human. ”
“River, that’s enough,” Landon says, but River ignores him. “You’re not part of the pack.
She’s not one of us, Dad. ”
“What are you talking about? ” Jude asks. “What pack?
”
River carefully hands Bonnie back to Jude. Then she steps back, putting distance between them. And then she changes. Her body convulses.
Bones shift, break, reform. Her spine arches impossibly. Her face elongates into a muzzle. Fur erupts from her skin.
A small brownish wolf with bright green eyes stands where River was. Jude gasps, stumbling backward. “Shift back! ” Landon growls.
His voice is nothing like she’s ever heard. Commanding. Terrifying. The wolf convulses again, the same brutal process in reverse.
River is standing there again, human. “We’re shifters,” River says. “The entire family. All the people you’ve met.
The chef, the driver, everyone. Dad is Alpha. He succeeded Grandpa. He’s the leader of the entire pack.
”
Jude’s pulse thunders. “It was you outside that night,” she says to Landon. “The white wolf? ”
Landon nods, lips pressed tightly together.
“Are we safe? ” The words tumble out before Jude can stop them. “Is my daughter? ”
She knows it’s wrong the instant they leave her mouth.
River gasps like Jude just slapped her. Landon’s expression drops. “See, Dad? ” River exclaims.
“She’ll never understand. It’s time you acted like an alpha and did something about the outsider among us. ”
Landon flinches. River’s face contorts, tears spilling down her cheeks.
She wipes them away angrily and bolts up the stairs. “Landon, I didn’t mean—”
“River’s just trying to protect herself. ” His voice is flat. “And the pack.
”
“Look, I apologize for the question earlier. I didn’t mean to imply you’d hurt us—”
“Jude, I understand where you’re coming from. ” He sounds defeated. “But I can’t risk hurting River again.
”
“Of course not. I don’t want that either. ”
“Well, perhaps you shouldn’t have asked her if she was a threat to you and your baby then. ” His shoulders tense.
“You were looking out for your kid. But I need to look out for mine. ”
He shakes his head. “I think you should leave.
I’ll arrange for someone to pick you up tomorrow morning, first thing. ”
The air leaves Jude’s lungs. It feels like someone punched her in the chest. “Landon, you—”
“It’s too complicated.
I’m sorry. I have to think about River. ”
He turns and walks away. Doesn’t turn around.
Doesn’t look back. The door slams behind him. Jude stands alone in the kitchen, surrounded by the smell of cookies and the ruins of something that might have been beautiful. —
Jude can’t sleep.
After hours of tossing and turning, she gives up. In the dark kitchen, she washes a bottle and freezes. There’s a rustle outside. Through the glass doors, a figure wrapped in a blanket sits on the porch swing, watching the falling snow.
River. Jude hesitates. But she’s leaving tomorrow. She might as well try.
She steps outside into the cold night air. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just hungry. ” She lifts her plate.
“Skip dinner. ”
“Me too,” River says quietly. “Want to share? ”
River shrugs.
It’s not a no. Jude sits at the other end of the swing, the plate between them. River starts crying. Not quiet tears.
Full-body, shaking sobs. “You don’t have to eat the brie,” Jude hurries out. “I also brought nuts—”
“I’m sorry, Jude. I’m sorry for earlier.
”
Jude slides closer and throws an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “You don’t have to apologize. You were looking out for your family. ”
“Still.
I shifted right in front of you and scared you. ”
Jude sighs. “Well, you were rather abrupt. But I understand.
”
River looks at her through tears. “You do? ”
Jude nods. “Ever since my parents died in a car accident when I was nineteen, I’ve been pushing people away.
I was terrified they’d disappear from my life, too. I kept everyone at a distance. Always kept an exit strategy. Ironic—he still took me by surprise when he left.
” She looks at River directly. “Your mom left, and I know that must have hurt. But it’s not about you or your dad. It’s about her.
Her choices. ”
River’s tears roll silently now. “Mom left when she found her fated mate. I begged her not to go.
When that didn’t work, I yelled at her like I yelled at you tonight. She still left. ”
“Your dad isn’t going to leave you, River. He would never.
”
River hesitates. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what fated bonds do to us shifters. ” She pauses.
“My dad isn’t very big on trust. And yet he knows you for all of five minutes, and he brings you to our pack. ”
Jude frowns. “What are you saying exactly?
Do you think I’m your father’s fated mate? ”
River shrugs, looking deeply uncomfortable. “Look,” Jude says carefully. “I’m not exactly sure what a fated mate is.
But what I can tell you is that your father’s already made his choice. And that choice is you. ”
River looks up. “What do you mean?
”
“Landon said someone’s picking me up in the morning. ”
River sits up straighter, her eyes lighting up. “He can’t mean it. He has feelings for you.
I can tell. ”
“It’s complicated. I like him too. ”
“You do?
Even though we’re not human? ”
Jude chuckles. “Honey, your dad opened his home when I was desperate and alone on the brink of a complete meltdown. He bought a ton of stuff for Bonnie, never asked for anything in return.
” She squeezes River’s shoulder. “So if he or anyone else in this family needs to be a wolf sometimes, I promise it’s fine by me. ”
River gapes, then throws herself into Jude’s arms, giggling through her tears. For a moment, sitting on a porch swing in the middle of a snowy Christmas Eve with a teenage werewolf, everything feels almost okay.
—
Jude wakes to sunlight. Today, she leaves. Today, she goes back to her real life—the one where werewolves don’t exist and CEOs don’t almost kiss her in kitchens. She heads downstairs and finds Algra at the counter.
“I especially apologize for when you saw Landon outside that night,” Algra says. “I gaslit you. I’m sorry. ”
“I get it.
I’m a mother too. I understand wanting to protect your family. ”
Algra approaches and pats her shoulder. “Landon’s just protecting himself.
Don’t let him be a coward. He’s in the library. Go talk to him. ”
Jude makes her way down the hall, heart hammering.
She lifts her arm to knock, but River’s voice reaches her from inside. “I’m really sorry, Dad. ”
“This is the fifth time you’re apologizing, River. ”
“Does that mean Jude and Bonnie can stay?
”
“River—”
“She’s your fated mate, isn’t she? ”
A loud intake of breath. “Don’t look at me like that,” River says. “It’s obvious.
”
A beat of silence. “Does everyone know? ” Landon asks. Jude holds her gasp.
“Ask her to stay. ”
“River, I can’t. It’s complicated. ”
“She told me she likes you,” River says louder.
“And I like her too. And Bonnie. Do you like them? ”
A pause.
“Of course I do. But I—”
“Good. Jude, you can come in. ”
The door opens and River strides out, pulling Jude into a quick hug.
“Dad didn’t know you were there,” she whispers. “He was too preoccupied ’cause he likes you. ”
A hand sneaks out and gently pulls Jude inside. Her back hits the door, and suddenly Landon is there, caging her in with his arms on either side of her head.
“Hey,” he says sheepishly. “Hey. ”
His gaze travels down, taking in her red dress. His eyes darken, and a low rumble erupts from his chest.
“Was that the wolf? ”
Landon rubs the spot over his heart, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry. That must be weird.
”
“No. It’s kind of hot, actually. ”
Landon smiles softly. “I’m sorry for what I said.
About you needing to leave. I wanted to rip my tongue out as soon as I said it. River was hurting and you were scared for Bonnie and I just—”
“Landon. ”
His mouth snaps shut.
“I think I’ll stay for Christmas. ”
He smiles back, hesitant. “Okay. We’ll take it slow.
”
“Hey,” Jude interrupts, reaching up to cup his face. “Big Alpha. Shut up and kiss me already. ”
Another rumble, deeper, more resonant.
It vibrates through her entire body. He leans in slowly. When his lips finally meet hers, it’s gentle at first, tentative. Jude rises on her toes, pressing closer.
Landon makes a sound low in his throat and deepens the kiss. When they finally break apart, both breathing hard, Landon rests his forehead against hers. “Merry Christmas, Jude. ”
From somewhere in the house, Declan’s voice booms.
“Are they done kissing yet? The twins want to open presents. ”
“Grandpa! ” River’s mortified voice carries clearly.
“Give them a minute. ”
Landon groans, dropping his head to Jude’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go face the chaos.
”
“I can’t wait,” Jude says, and means it. They walk toward the living room together, hand in hand. When they enter, the whole family erupts in cheers. River is grinning.
Algra winks. Declan launches into a terrible joke. The twins bounce around like they’ve had eighteen cups of coffee. Beckett hands Jude hot chocolate.
Lauren squeezes her shoulder in welcome. And Bonnie, sweet, perfect Bonnie, is in Algra’s arms, babbling happily. Jude takes her daughter and settles onto the couch next to Landon. This time yesterday, she was alone, stranded, terrified.
Now she’s surrounded by warmth and laughter and a family that apparently includes werewolves. She’s allowing herself to hope, really hope, for the first time in years. So maybe this Christmas miracle isn’t over yet.
Maybe it’s just beginning.
