Prairie Pack Party
He was a lucky bastard. There was no other way of putting it.
Viktor had no idea how he’d pulled it off, but he knew enough to be damn grateful for the gifts he’d been given.
It was the sound of pups playing in the snow that woke him from a perfect, dreamless sleep.
White light filtered in through the backs of his eyelids as he rubbed his cheek against the smooth silk of the pillows Camille insisted were essential for her hair.
Not that he put up a fight about anything she wanted, really.
If he did, it was only because he wanted to see her get all riled up and triumphant when she “won” the argument later.
Truth was, he enjoyed her little decadences because they reminded him of her — his gorgeous, high maintenance alpha of an elf.
A smile curled his lips as he cracked his eyes open. The glare from the snow outside was intense, but he couldn’t resist searching for the shape of his mate against the sea of white.
He knew the moment he woke that she wasn’t cuddled into the sheets with him, but after the first instinctive flash of worry, there was only an aching sort of tenderness. His mate had abandoned their bed for a very good reason.
Prying himself out of bed, Viktor padded across the room to hook a finger around the edge of the gauzy curtain and pull it aside.
Their yard sprawled before him, a landscape of snow and aspens.
They’d gotten a fresh blanket of snow the night before, just after they put out the last Moonrise bonfire, but what he found wasn’t the pristine white wonderland one might’ve expected.
Pawprints criss-crossed the mounds of snow and little hands had clearly been at work for some time trying to form a lopsided snowman. Tiny furry bodies wallowed in the powder, pink tongues lolling, while human-shaped children decked out in puffy snow suits attempted to make snow harpies.
Despite the adorable chaos, Viktor’s gaze found Camille instantly.
Dressed in a stylish black coat and jaunty little beret, she was crouched in the snow near their fence helping some of the older children make snowballs.
It took him a moment to understand why her coat fit her strangely: baby Bea, who wasn’t quite so small as she’d been when they moved to Prairie, was strapped to her chest. Bea’s little face stuck out from within the lapels like a little pink ball topped in a wool hat.
The tip of Camille’s purple nose and cheeks had gone dark with the cold, which only highlighted the massive grin she sported. When Bea looked up at her with adoring eyes, they shared that smile like they were the best of friends.
Viktor let out a fond snort when he realized his mate had taken the time to put on lipstick before she intercepted the pups. Normally their den was overrun with the little ones first thing in the morning, but she’d obviously gone out of her way to keep them outside while he caught some extra sleep.
After the weeks of planning, construction, and meetings they’d had, he certainly couldn’t complain about it. That didn’t mean he’d miss another second of the fun, though.
And I need my good morning kiss, he thought, stepping back from the window with a growl.
After finding a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans, he hunted down his boots.
He didn’t need all the protective snow gear that the little ones did, since adult shifters ran hot, but if he went outside without shoes on he was fairly certain his mate would flay him alive.
Dressed just enough, he threw open the front door with a howl.
Immediately, every little coyote in his yard froze. Furry and hat-covered heads swivelled in his direction before, almost as one, they howled back with obvious delight.
“Good morning!” he cried, sinking into a crouch as a tide of little bodies descended on him. “You know, for the morning after Moonrise, you’re all up way too early!”
Yips, barks, and the chatter of children all trying to talk at once made him grin. Someone attempted to drag him toward the lopsided snowman, a pup had somehow gotten their teeth into the heel of his boot, and another child wrapped their arms around his neck in a wordless request for a ride.
“All right, all right,” he laughed, rising from his crouch. Someone dangled from his neck with a squeal of happiness, legs kicking, when he continued, “You know the rules! Cammie gets first kisses. I need to—”
He’d known Camille for a long time. He really should’ve expected the snowball to come flying at his face, and yet…
Viktor sputtered and wiped the slush from his eyes. Squinting, he found his beloved mate, the love of his life, the future mother of his children, the woman he’d die for without hesitation, standing across the yard with another snowball in hand and a mad smile on her lips.
“Oh, Alpha Hamilton wants a kiss, huh? You’ll have to earn it!” Raising her right arm, she cried, “It’s war!”
The children around him scattered with their own battle cries, and some of them dove for piles of snow to begin frantically making their own snowballs. Viktor ducked just in time to dodge Camille’s projectile, which smacked their front door with a satisfying splat!
“No fair,” he hollered, struggling to contain his laughter as he army-crawled for the cover of their shed. “You have a baby Bea shield!”
“A tactical advantage,” she taunted, tossing another snowball with terrifying accuracy. He only just managed to dodge it by scrambling behind their shed’s attached wood pile.
“Here I thought you just wanted to give me some extra sleep,” he called out. “But this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”
“It’s not my fault you’re unprepared!”
Peeking out from behind the wood pile, he let out an amused puff of steam when he spied the battle that had broken out.
Snowballs flew in every direction as children flung them with more enthusiasm than skill.
The little ones in their coyote shapes sprinted back and forth, jumping high to nip at the balls as they flew above their heads. It was pure, blissful chaos.
Camille stood across the yard, a smug smile on her glossy lips and her gloved hands propped on her waist. Little Bea’s content face peeked out from her lapels, a perfect defense.
Dodging wasn’t an option. Neither was throwing a snowball. Even if she didn’t have Bea, he wouldn’t have done it.
There was only one choice.
Viktor charged into the fray with a howl.
Snowballs pelted him from every angle as he became the main target of every child with a fistful of snow.
He didn’t stop. Viktor sprinted toward his mate, heedless of the frigid water seeping into his clothes, and snagged her around the waist with a satisfied growl.
Camille and Bea’s laughter rang in his ears as he swept them both in a circle. “You’re in trouble now, sweetheart,” he warned, dropping his mate onto her fur-lined boots.
Cupping her flushed cheeks, he pressed a fierce kiss to her luscious mouth. Snowballs pelted his back, but he didn’t care. Nothing could tear his focus from his mate when she gave him a sharp nip.
Whispering into his lips, she asked, “Good start to our first Burden’s Moon?”
“The best,” he answered, stealing her beret and plopping it onto his own head. Pressing a kiss to the top of Bea’s hat, he added, “But maybe warn a man next time, huh? It’s just sporting.”
Camille gave him one of those razor-sharp smiles he loved so much. “Don’t count on it, alpha.”
Shaking off the snow covering his back so it hit Camille, who shied away from the spray with a squawk, he thought again, I’m one lucky bastard.