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  “Silly bear,” she said on a breath. “You can’t watch over me every minute of the day.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you can’t. I have things to do, and you have to work.”

  “What things to do?”

  “I’m going to make you a Christmas present, just like I used to. It won’t mean the same if you watch me make it.”

  “A Christmas present. Woman, you’re giving me a cub.” He frowned. “Or a raven.” As realization dawned on him, he grinned and pulled her gently against his chest. “Are you going to give me a little raven, just like you, Ana?”

  She giggled, and the noise settled something restless in him. “Would you mind?”

  “No. Grizzly or raven, doesn’t matter. Either will be okay, and I’ll be happy.”

  “You’re going to be a daddy.”

  A shiver trembled up his spine and landed in his shoulders.

  Ana laughed as she tickled his ribs. “You like that,” she accused.

  He liked the idea more than he could ever put words to. Beaston wasn’t good with those—not like Ana. He wouldn’t have to wait for Creed and Gia to need him to watch Rowan anymore. He could care for his own baby, with Ana. If she lived.

  Stupid fucking thoughts. He gritted his teeth and made himself get up to shower. Creed would be giving the ten minute whistle soon, and Ana was right. As much as his instincts screamed to follow her everywhere, she wouldn’t be happy constantly watched. His mate was more independent than that. She deserved better than him stifling her. It would be hard, but he would force himself to leave her and hope that tomorrow would be easier, and the day after that even easier.

  He showered quickly. Not because he was in a rush for work on the landing, but because he wanted to spend every second he could with Ana before he left her for the day. He hurried to pull on a red flannel shirt over his jeans, and work boots.

  Ana’s humming perked up his ears and drew him to the doorway of the kitchen. She hadn’t hummed in months, and something about the change in her happiness tightened his throat. She stood over the small stove, one foot propped on her other knee like a flamingo. She always cooked like that, his Ana. Today, she’d put on colorful tights under calf-high snow boots lined with wool. A tight, black sweater clung to her new curves like a second skin, and he wanted to take her back to bed right then and there. He wouldn’t, though. Not when she was gifting him this moment. He would be still as a hunter and enjoy the happy notes drifting from her lips.

  With a sigh, Beaston relaxed against the frame and listened as her humming morphed to the words of a song. It was one about silver bells, but she was replacing “bells” with “bears.” His bear was silver. This must be one of those holiday songs Willa had been belting out at the top of her lungs for the past month. Ana wrapped up an egg, bacon, and cheese biscuit into a strip of foil and shoved it into a paper bag with the rest of his lunch. She liked making his food in the mornings, though he was perfectly capable. He used to try to convince her to sleep in, but she always refused. And eventually he’d stopped urging her, because she always smiled so pretty when she finished packing his lunch. Damon was right. Ana was a nurturer.

  Beaston strode across the wood floors, his boots clunking hollowly against the laminate. With a soft, satisfied growl, he slid his arms around her waist and cupped her belly from behind. “I think I won’t be able to stop touching you now.”

  Ana relaxed back against him as he tasted her neck with kisses. “I think I won’t mind.”

  “I really missed you,” he admitted low. He should explain, but couldn’t find the words. He’d missed how close they were. How in sync they always seemed to be. Ana read him better than anyone, and for the past couple of months, the distance between them had hurt more than he’d realized. Now, she’d closed the gaping wound in his heart overnight.

  He should explain, but when he opened his mouth to try, she turned her head and laid a sweet kiss on his cheek. “I missed you, too.”

  Creed’s ten minute warning whistle blasted through the woods. Beaston helped Ana into her heavy winter jacket, and then he shrugged into his own before opening the door for his mate. She liked to come with him in the mornings and wave him off. Sack lunch in hand, he closed the trailer door and watched Ana take off running with a teasing giggle. His breath steamed in front of him in a minty fog as he laughed and ran after her. She was easy to catch, his little raven, especially now that she seemed to run more carefully. Beaston spun her around and hitched her knees around his hips so he could carry her like he wanted, pressed against him.

  His affectionate mate rubbed her cheeks against his, one and then the other and back again. Happy. She was happy, and it made him feel like a king that he could put that smile on her face and in her heart.

  She was the best thing that ever happened to him. The best.

  He stopped his trek through the woods and over the crunching snow to lean forward and kiss her like she deserved. Long and slow, so she would know he loved her. He didn’t say the words much, but she’d told him that was okay because he showed her all the time. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel like saying the words, but he didn’t talk much. Never had. Ana understood him.

  With a soft moan, she tightened her arms around his neck and brushed her tongue against his, exploring his mouth. Sexy mate, giving him silent promises of what he would come home to.

  She eased away and rested her forehead on his. “Beaston?”

  “Yes, Ana?”

  “I really, really like the decorations you put in our home.”

  Pride zinged through his chest, and he stood prouder, hugged her tighter. “The beer cans are okay?”

  “I want beer cans on every tree for every Christmas. And maybe tonight, we can tie some of the shiny trinkets I brought you onto the limbs, too.”

  He laughed and nodded. His Ana liked shiny things. “Okay. When I come home. Wait for me.”

  She grinned and nipped his bottom lip playfully. “Always.”

  “Geronimo!” Willa crowed as she tackled them from the side.

  Beaston splayed his legs to keep them balanced and settled Ana on her feet so Willa could hug the devil out of her.

  “We’re gonna have another baby!” Willa jumped from Ana’s giggling embrace into Beaston’s arms. “A baby Beaston!”

  He used to hate touch. Hated hugs, avoided them at all costs, but the women of the Gray Backs had come in and made him softer. He wrapped his arms around Willa’s shoulders and rested his cheek against her bright red hair. “My own baby,” he murmured, still stunned.

  The other Gray Backs trailed through the woods, and as Ana wrapped her arms around him and Willa, the others opened their arms like wings and hugged them up tight until they were a pile of laughing Gray Backs. Ana was crying, and usually he worried when her eyes leaked like this, but she was smiling big as their crew congratulated them. Beaston relaxed. He couldn’t take his eyes from her as Matt, Creed, Damon, and Jason clapped him on the back and made stud jokes. His mate was too damned beautiful to look away from as she hugged the women in their crew, her bright blue eyes glistening with happiness. Gia had her hand on Ana’s belly and was crying right along with her, and when Ana looked over at him, pride was pooled so deeply in her beautiful gaze, it cut right to his middle.

  He’d almost kept this from her. A wave of guilt washed over him, but he would make it up to her. He would.

  His Ana deserved everything.

  Chapter Six

  A knock pounded against the door, and Aviana squeaked. Everyone was probably waiting on her. “Come in!” she called as she zipped up her riding boots over her skinny jeans. She would have to buy some maternity clothes soon since she already had to loop a rubber band around the button of her biggest pair of jeans.

  Willa pushed the door open and grinned. “You ready?” She tilted her head. “Beaston’s warming up the truck so I told him I’d come get you.”

  “Yes. I think. Is this okay for the party?” She held out
her arms and did a little turn in her skintight red sweater over her dark jeans. This was the first annual shifter Christmas Eve party at Sammy’s Bar down in Saratoga, and she didn’t want to walk in there underdressed.

  “Yeah, you look hot. What about me?” Willa did a little sashay hip turn and poked her little boobs out as far as they would go. Her sweater read If you’re happy and you know it, hug a worm. She wore it over black tights and rounded out the look with a pair of rainbow Converse sneakers.

  “You look perfect,” Aviana said through a grin.

  “I know. Dude!” she exclaimed, soft brown eyes bulging at the Christmas tree in the corner. Aviana and Beaston had decorated it with all the trinkets she’d made for his Christmas presents when they were kids, and underneath was stacked brightly wrapped presents for the Gray Backs. The festive-colored trinkets and presents weren’t what held Willa’s attention though. “Beer can ornaments?”

  “Beaston decorated it while I was gone to surprise me.”

  Willa nodded slowly, looking stunned. “That’s fucking awesome.” She yanked open the door and yelled, “Griz!”

  A moment later, her mate, Matt, hollered, “What?”

  “Beaston has beer cans for ornaments.”

  “So?”

  “I want some on our tree!”

  There was a second of hesitation, and then, “Will you wear the glasses tonight?”

  Willa opened her mouth and silently laughed as she pulled a pair of thick-rimmed glasses from the neck of her shirt and waved them at Aviana. She turned and cupped her hand around her mouth, sounding put upon. “Fine.” She closed the door and grabbed her middle, giggling. “He loves nerd shit. Every time I wear these, he talks filthy to me.” Willa slipped the glasses on and pushed them up her nose. “I was going to wear them, anyway.”

  Aviana cracked up and pulled her coat from the rack near the front door, then followed Willa through the woods to the trailer park. Three trucks were warming up in front of the semi-circle of trailers—Creed’s, Beaston’s, and Matt’s—and already, the Gray Backs were piling in.

  “Mason called shotgun in Beaston’s truck, so looks like you’re the monkey in the middle. See you there,” Willa called over her shoulder as she bounded off through the snow toward Matt’s ride.

  Aviana grinned as her eyes landed on her mate, looking dashing in dark jeans and a black sweater that clung to his defined chest and shoulders. His eyes blazed a wild green as he stood by the passenger side of his old Chevy, holding the door and waiting for her. He’d always been a caring mate, but since he’d found out she was pregnant, he had turned even more thoughtful. His answering smile mirrored hers as she thanked him with a kiss and slid into the middle. Mason sat beside her and closed the door as Beaston made his way around the front of the truck and got in behind the wheel.

  “Hey, bird,” Mason said, his dark eyes dancing. He was a boar shifter, but not the cute kind. She’d seen him Changed one time when they’d all fought with Damon against an immortal dragon. Mason’s change had shocked her to her bones as she’d been flying overhead. No, he wasn’t the cute kind. He was a giant, demon-black, spike-furred, curve-tusked giant Russian boar. She used to be afraid of predator shifters, like all of her raven people were, but then she’d gotten to know the Gray Backs. She’d gotten to know Damon, Mason, and all of the dominant, half-broken grizzlies, and then she’d gone and married the scariest bear shifter of all—her Beaston. Timid, she might be, but not much scared her anymore.

  Aviana bumped Mason on the shoulder in greeting and placed her frozen fingertips in front of the already warm heater.

  “Where are your gloves?” Beaston asked, a worried furrow darkening his brow.

  “I forgot them.”

  “Here,” he said without hesitation, pulling his own gloves off his hands.

  She couldn’t help her smile as he pulled the gloves over her fingertips. He might be a Beaston to others, but to her, he was the sweetest, most protective man she’d ever met. And he was hers. The thought of that still rocked her sometimes. After everything, he’d chosen her.

  “I saw the cartoon you put in Beaston’s lunch today,” Mason said as he helped buckle her seatbelt. Twisting around to search for the hiding contraption wasn’t as easy as when her tummy had been smaller.

  “Yeah?” she asked, ghosting a glance to Beaston.

  He was grinning as he pulled out onto the snow-covered gravel road behind Creed’s truck.

  She’d drawn a picture of a grizzly bear in a tree sitting beside a bird’s nest with a little white egg in it. A cartoon raven stood on the rim of the nest.

  “It was badass,” Beaston said low.

  “He showed everyone,” Mason said, rolling down the window by a few inches. “Damn, Beaston, I forget how scary your bear is. Are you riled up?”

  Beaston shrugged, and Aviana frowned.

  “No,” he said. “I feel fine.”

  Aviana snorted and tried to feel what Mason was feeling right now. She was apparently used to Beaston’s bear and staggering dominance, but she did remember how hard it had been to breathe around him in the beginning, and especially in tight spaces.

  She patted Mason’s leg. “Only two more hours until we reach Saratoga.”

  “I put the cartoon in my tackle box under the bed,” Beaston murmured. “It’s special.”

  The baby fluttered in her stomach, or perhaps that was just butterflies, she couldn’t tell. Beaston found a Christmas station on the radio and filled the cab of his truck with songs of the season. That was for her, she knew, but Mason drummed his fingers at the top of his open window and nodded his head along to the catchy beat. Her cheeks heated with pleasure, and she settled under Beaston’s arm as he draped it across her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. And there she stayed the entire trip to Sammy’s Bar, safe and warm.

  By the time their caravan had arrived at Sammy’s, Aviana was pretty sure she’d sung every Christmas song on the station twice through. Mason even sang along with her, and while Beaston didn’t know the words, he kept giving her those sideways glances he did when he was amused or working something out.

  In the parking lot, Mason helped her out of the truck as Willa and Georgia bounced around in circles, chattering about how excited they were for eggnog. Aviana wouldn’t point out that Willa’s version of eggnog was just straight rum. Georgia would find that out soon enough.

  The bar was rocking when Beaston led her through the front door. A couple of the Ashe Crew boys were really good on guitar and at the mic, and they were singing Christmas carols with a country twang. The shifters of Damon’s mountains were all here. The Ashe Crew raised their glasses and greeted them. The Boarlanders were near the stage, drinking like fish and tossing back shots, and the small Lowlander Crew of gorilla shifters were spread out here and there. Kong was behind the bar with his mate, Layla, and the owner of Sammy’s, Jake, pouring shots and drinks like there was no tomorrow.

  Sammy’s was all sticky wood floors, mismatched tables, and a stuffed deer butt over the bathrooms down the hallway. Aviana smiled at the memory of the first time she’d met Beaston here. She’d been so scared to talk to him. He hadn’t known she was his raven after all those years, but as an adult, she’d sought him out. He was so different from what she’d remembered of the sweet silver bear cub. Beaston as an adult was feral, but she’d still seen a spark of the boy she’d known. Thank goodness she’d approached him here. It had been a huge turning point in her life. The emptiness that had swallowed her whole was banished when she met Beaston.

  “You look mushy,” Willa said through a grin as she handed Aviana a shot glass of orange liquid.

  “She’s not drinking,” Beaston growled.

  “Pipe down, scary-beary. It’s just orange juice so she can toast with us. Clara has the same boring, non-alcoholic juice shot. Don’t worry. I’m not trying to piss off the dragon and the beast by getting their preggo mates schnockered.”

  Aviana took the shot of OJ and lifted it
in a silent toast to Clara, who stood beside Damon as he greeted Kong with a big grin on his face. That old dragon used to never smile.

  Sammy’s was covered in shiny red, and oversize plastic ornaments hung from the exposed ceiling beams like disco balls. A Douglas fir tree stood in the corner, stretching from floor to ceiling and covered in tinsel and bows. A smile consumed Aviana’s face.

  Beaston leaned forward, wrapping his big hands around her waist, and murmured against her ear, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “I never thought I would have this feeling again.” Her heart pounded just being close to him. He smelled of pine sap, shaving cream, and the spicy, masculine body wash he used in the shower. Unable to help herself, she kissed his cleanly shaven cheek just to feel the smoothness of his skin against her lips.

  “What feeling?” he asked, sliding his hand up her arm and around the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

  “I used to get this giddy feeling when I would bring you presents on Christmas night. But when my dad moved us away, I thought the holiday would never feel like that again.”

  “And you have it now? That feeling?”

  She nodded, and Beaston opened his mouth to say something, but Denison’s voice rang out loud and clear over the speakers on stage. He and his brother Brighton picked pretty notes from their old, beat-up guitars as he said, “A rumor went flying through the Ashe Crew late last night that had us all buzzing. I’d like to address it here so we can celebrate it right. If it’s true, of course.”

  “What is it?” Kong called over the crowd. But the behemoth gorilla shifter’s dark eyes twinkled when he dragged his gaze to Aviana and gave her a wink.

  “I heard that Beaston Novak, the wild man himself, is going to be a daddy soon. Tell me I’m wrong,” Denison dared him through a deep grin.

  Beaston looked around the room coyly, his green eyes blazing before he arched his attention to Aviana. He looked so proud she was melting right here and now. “You aren’t wrong,” he called out, holding her gaze.