Page 66 of My Boyfriend Marks Trees

Greta paused with an apple slice partway to her mouth before saying, “I don’t have to keep it secret with you.”

“No. Me, Athena, Selene, we all know what it means to lycan. Which is the fancy name for our wolf side. You can also trust Grams, Gramps, Derek, and Athena’s mom.”

“Okay.” Greta agreed easily before sighing. “Mama is taking so long.”

A few minutes on Christmas morning, an eternity for a child.

Soon they were in the living room, and the paper shredding began. Greta was over the moon with her fancy Barbie. Charly eyed her brand-new mix-and-match office attire with surprise.

“How did you find the time to do this?” she asked Ares.

“Athena helped,” he admitted. “Thought you might like some fancy duds for the new job.”

“I didn’t have a chance to get you anything.” Her lips turned down.

“You are the best gift ever,” he said, leaning over for a kiss.

About midmorning, Greta stacked a plate with some fruitcake and peanuts from the buffet of snacks Grams laid out. As she headed for the front door, Charly asked, “Where are you going, munchkin?”

“To feed Mr. Squirrel.” She pointed to the window, where a furry face with a white tuft on its head peeked in.

Ares grumbled. “I can’t believe Skippy was hiding in the tree.”

“A good thing. Without him, Barry might have left with Greta.”

“Does this mean I can’t eat him?” he groused.

“You’d better not,” Charly huffed.

“Fine.” He leaned close enough for her ears only and whispered, “Can I eat you then?”

The blush was so worth it.

Midafternoon got busy, as Selene arrived with his mom, bearing even more gifts. The body from the day before had been handled and the bloody snow in front of the house had been shoveled so no sign of the attack remained.

Their late afternoon dinner proved to be loud and chaotic. In other words, awesome. Ares and his small family had suddenly more than doubled in size. There was an epic turkey, farm-raised of course. Honey-glazed carrots. Mashed potatoes roasted to give them a crispy crust. Fresh buns from the oven. A stuffing to die for. Cherry pie and eclairs.

It led to much unbuttoning and unbuckling as people eased the waistband of their pants.

It was Selene who glanced at the clock and said, “It’s almost time.”

Greta perked at her words. “Am I going to wolf out?”

Ares and his sisters had taken turns talking to her about lycanthropy, what it meant, what to expect, what she could and couldn’t do. Greta took it in, as did Charly, a mom determined to accept and support.

“Let’s go find out.” Selene held out her hand, and Greta took it. Charly tensed, so Ares hugged her and whispered, “Don’t worry. We’ll keep her safe.”

“I know you will. Be careful.”

“Always.”

Just before the moon rose, they switched into robes. Well, the adults did. Greta wore one of Derek’s plaid shirts, buttons undone. They went out onto the porch and, as the moon rose, shed their clothing. Their nude bodies shivered until the moonlight kissed their skin and they changed from flesh to fur.

Even Greta.

Off they ran, three large wolves and a little puppy, racing through the snow. Chasing each other. Yipping. Playing.

We are pack.