4 OLIVE
I planted a kiss on Felix’s head as he settled into his brand-new cat bed. I’d spent a lot of time researching which bed was the top of the line. It was only what our mayor deserved.
Finn threw another couple of logs into the wood stove, and I stretched lazily on my spot on the floor. I’d mentioned how nice it would be to sleep by the fire, and my guys had immediately moved the coffee table and set up a plush pile of blankets and pillows for us.
I was so spoiled.
My alphas lay down around me so we formed a sleepy cuddle pile. A baking show played quietly on the TV, and evidence of all the treats we’d eaten was littered around us—hot chocolate with maple marshmallows, slabs of salted caramel fudge, kettle corn, and coffee truffles.
“I thought we got the bed to avoid sleeping on the floor,” Lars said, tightening his hold on my waist.
“Grumpy alpha,” I said. My eyelids were heavy, my belly full, and my body completely relaxed and warm.
“Did you have a good Christmas, baby?” Easton asked, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
The holidays always made me miss my parents a little bit extra. We usually had a quiet Christmas at home, exchanging homemade gifts. My dad would make a massive turkey and bring leftovers to all our neighbors. My mom would bake a Boston Cream Pie and set the whole cake on the coffee table so we could dig in with our forks while we watched our favorite Christmas movies.
This was the first year I’d really celebrated Christmas since they’d died. The first time I’d made new traditions.
“It was perfect.” And I meant it. Everything was perfect.
Easton’s chest vibrated beneath me as he purred, and I scooted up so I could kiss his forehead. His purr intensified and he rubbled his stubbled chin against my face, scent-marking me. The wood crackled in the stove, the baking show’s jaunty theme music filled the room, and outside, snow was blanketing our cottage. The new year was just days away, and I was more excited for it than I could ever remember being.
Excited for the new year with my pack, my family.