Chapter 3
Keena barely remembered leaving the bookstore. One second she was standing in front of Brice who was smiling at her, and the next she was outside in the cold.
Her boots crunched over the snow and her lungs dragged in sharp winter air as if she’d been underwater too long.
Her wolf slammed against her chest.
Mate.
Keena nearly stumbled.
“No,” she whispered. Snow was steadily falling around her. She tried to ignore the cheerful hum of Evergreen Hollow as she jumped into her SUV. A horse-drawn carriage rolled slowly past the curb with sleigh bells jingling with every stop and Keena gripped the steering wheel.
Mate.
The word pulsed through her with every beat of her heart. Her animal clawed at her chest demanding she go back into the bookstore.
Hell, her hand still tingled from touching Brice. Keena gripped the steering wheel tighter. The moment Brice’s palm had pressed against hers, Keena’s wolf had surged forward with a force she hadn’t felt in years.
She leaned back in her seat and inhaled. The scent of Hearth and Story had followed her in. It clung to her coat.
Coffee, vanilla, cinnamon and beneath it the faint but unmistakable scent of Brice.
Sweet. Woman. Mine.
“No,” she snapped.
Mate, her animal whispered.
“I said no.”
Her animal was stubborn as hell and wasn’t listening to her. It didn't care what she said. It paced inside of her. It was frantic; wild and straining to get out so she could go back to the bookstore. Back to her.
Brice Andrews.
Keena closed her eyes, but that only made everything worse.
She saw Brice standing at the counter, saw her loose strands of hair escaping her bun, the warmth in her brown eyes and her smile. The way she looked at Keena as if she weren’t broken.
She was absolutely beautiful.
And Keena had stared at her like a damn fool. A curse hissed from her. Had she truly scared her? The thought caused a panic to invade her chest. She opened her eyes and replayed the conversation in jagged pieces.
Do all enforcers look intimidating or did Rue send me the scariest one on purpose?
“Fuck…” Keena groaned. She pulled her hands from the wheel, ran one over her face and blew out a deep breath.
That was all she needed. The new bookstore owner complaining to Rue that the pack enforcer who had come into her shop was rude and scared the shit out of her.
Rue would never let her hear the end of it.
Worse, Brice probably thought Keena was an asshole or something.
Keena pressed the heel of her hand against her sternum to try to ease the pressure that was building behind it.
She hadn’t meant to be rude or scary. She hadn’t meant to pull away so suddenly when they had shaken hands.
What was the Moon Goddess doing? Keena had claimed a mate already. This couldn’t be happening. Being blessed with a second fated mate was almost never heard of.
Keena started the SUV with a rough twist of the key. The engine rumbled to life and she backed out of the parking spot too fast as the tires crunched over packed snow. She slammed the vehicle into gear and drove.
She should have continued her patrol and finished her shift. She was supposed to check on the south edge of the town, stop by the market stalls, and ensure all was well in town, then go home to her cabin where it was quiet and safe.
Instead, she drove away from the square.
Away from Hearth and Story.
Away from Brice.
Her animal snarled. Keena ignored it. Evergreen Hollow slipped past the windows in a blur of white. The last time she had walked through the town and let herself enjoy Christmas, Lizzie had been beside her. Keena’s throat tightened. Lizzie would have adored Hearth and Story.
The thought hit with such a force that Keena nearly missed the turn toward the old cemetery road. She jerked the wheel and the SUV fishtailed slightly before catching traction again.
“Shit!”
Her pulse hammered in her ears as she slowed down.
The cemetery sat on the north side of Evergreen Hollow.
It was located near the last stretch of old houses where the town thinned into forest. The farther she drove, the quieter the world became.
Her wolf quieted too. She knew where they were headed.
She paced still, but slowed down. She retreated enough to allow grief to take up space.
Keena hated that most of all.
The cemetery came into view through the trees.
It was enclosed by an old black iron fence with stone pillars on either side of the entrance.
Someone had hung wreaths decorated with pinecones and berries on the gate.
Beyond it, headstones rose from the white ground in uneven rows.
Keena parked near the gate and cut the engine.
For a moment she didn’t move. Her breath sounded too loud in the silence of the vehicle.
Her hands rested on the steering wheel and her fingers were stiff.
She stared through the windshield at the cemetery she had visited so often that she could walk to Lizzie’s grave blindfolded.
The first year, she came every day. Sometimes twice a day. She would sit beside the headstone until her body went numb from the cold or Rue would come and get her. The second year, she came every week. The third, every couple of weeks.
Now she only came when grief became too much. She tried to keep busy and keep her feelings pushed away, but some days were better than others. Today, she needed to talk to Lizzie.
She grabbed her gloves from the passenger seat and shoved them on before stepping out of the truck.
Cold air wrapped around her at once. It was clearer here than in town.
It smelled of snow, pine, and old stone.
She shut the door softly as if she would wake the occupants of the cemetery.
Snow crunched beneath her boots as she made her way along the path.
All around her was proof that the townsfolk remembered the dead.
Wreaths leaned against headstones. A small lantern half buried by snow sat at the stop of one.
Some graves had foil-wrapped poinsettias sitting next to them.
Someone had left a tiny ceramic angel near a child’s grave.
Another headstone had been decorated for the holiday with battery powered lights that blinked faintly beneath the light covering of snow.
Keena’s chest tightened with each step.
Lizzie’s grave held no wreath. No flowers. No lights. Nothing but snow. Guilt rose inside of her. She swallowed hard and tucked her hands into her jacket pocket.
Lizzie had loved Christmas more than anyone she’d ever known.
She had loved everything about it. The music, the lights, the cookies, the ugly sweaters and the rom-com movies that had terrible predictable endings.
She had been the kind of woman who dragged out the decorations before Thanksgiving dinner was eaten.
Keena had complained every year, but each year she’d help carry the boxes up from the basement and help Lizzie decorate.
Now she couldn’t even bring herself to place a wreath on her mate’s grave.
Shame made her steps slow. The moment she stopped in front of the familiar headstone, she lowered her head and sighed.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
The grave sat beneath a tall white pine tree near the back of the cemetery. In summer, the branches provided a cool shaded area. In the winter, it provided a magical area for one to rest. Keena had chosen the spot because Lizzie had always loved sitting underneath big sprawling trees.
Keena stared at the grave. Snow covered the top half of the head stone hiding Lizzie’s name. She crouched down and brushed away the snow until the name was legible.
Elizabeth “Lizzie” Monroe-Bolden. Beloved mate. Cherished Daughter. Faithful Friend.
Keena’s fingertips stilled over her name. Her mate. Her forever was gone. The grief didn’t hit like it used to. Not with the same force it had when she stood in this exact spot two months after the accident. Time had dulled the pain.
Keena sank down onto one knee in the snow.
“Hey, baby.” Her voice cracked slightly. She closed her eyes for a moment, hating the weakness inside of her. She always had to be strong, but in the moments where she was alone here, it overpowered her.
A faint breeze moved along through the pine branches. She closed her eyes and basked in the chill. The snow from the branches came loose and fell causing a dusting of snow to surround her. It was as if Lizzie’s spirit had heard her.
“I wasn’t going to come today,” she admitted. “I’m supposed to be on patrol today.”
Another faint breeze moved through the boughs and sent down another dusting of snow. It fell softly around her and covered her coat.
“Rue sent me to check on the new bookstore owner.” Keena barked a laugh and looked down at the ground. “You would have loved it.”
The words came easier and began to flow.
“It’s called Hearth and Story. It’s in the old Mercer building.
They fixed it up nice. Looks completely different.
” She stared at the headstone but truly didn’t see it as she became lost in the memory of when she’d first walked in the bookstore.
“There’s a fireplace in the back with these big chairs.
A Christmas tree that would give yours a run for its money and books everywhere.
She even added a little coffee bar and the place smelled of sugar. ”
Keena drew in a deep breath and her mouth trembled.
“You would have walked in there and lost your mind.” She closed her eyes as her vision became blurry.
She could almost feel Lizzie’s hand in hers, dragging her into the store.
She could even hear her squeal of joy. Lizzie would have gone straight to the romance book section, grabbed a pile of books higher than she was tall, then headed over to the coffee bar and ordered one of her complicated coffee drinks that was too damn sweet.
She would then steal a sip from Keena’s and complain about her black coffee wasn’t adventurous enough.
Keena’s chest seized at the fantasy.