Page 35 of Wrong Number, Right Santa

“Ho-ho-ho. Who do we have here?”

“This is Tanelia, Santa.”

Tanny squealed and kicked her little legs as Santa kissed her brow and gave me a peck on the lips. She tugged at his white beard, and he laughed.

“Our daughter suspects not all is what it seems.” He untangled his beard from her plump fingers and kissed them until she giggled.

As Santa’s child, it wasn’t surprising because she could scent her alpha father.

“Let me see what I have in here.” Santa pulled out toys and stuffed them in Tanny’s stocking and also left a large wrapped gift under the tree. And he left a squishy toy and bone for Max.

“And what about you?” My mate pulled me close. “Have you been good this year?”

I pouted. “Sadly, no, Santa. I’ve been very naughty.” I put my hands over Tanny’s ears. “I have to be punished.”

“People think Santa only brings good cheer.” He narrowed his eyes. “But I believe you need a spanking.”

“I do, Santa.”

He played his lips on my ear. “Later.”

After more ho-ho-ho-ing, Santa filled my stocking and his and placed more presents under the tree.

“Until next year. Merry Christmas.” He slithered up the chimney, and Tanny’s mouth formed an O.

“Don’t worry, little one. He’ll be back.”

But our daughter wailed, and I soothed her by taking her outside so she could see the reindeer and the sleigh heading to the village. She raised her little fist, and I brushed the tears off her cheeks. Because they were salty, they were unlikely to freeze, but despite understanding the science, I worried. Besides, shifters and Santa defied scientific reasoning, so I’d continue to remove our daughter’s tears.

“Daddy will be home soon.”

By the time Chris arrived, Tanny’s eyelids were heavy and her head nodded. He took our daughter from me and placed her in the crib. We’d open presents when she woke.

“Hungry?” I’d made chicken soup, Chris’s favorite.

“Please.”

We sat at the table, both slurping the soup, and by the time the sun rose, we were in bed.

“Do not let me sleep once Tanny wakes up. I want to be there when she opens her presents.” Not that our young daughter was capable of opening them herself.

He yawned, asking if he could deliver my punishment for being naughty tomorrow or next week.

“Sleep. We have our whole lives. My ass can wait.”

He grabbed my butt as his eyes closed. “And a very nice ass it is.”

When Tanny woke, Chris bounded out of bed before me and changed her diaper. Sitting in the living room, she gazed at the floating snowflakes. But before we could examine the goodies in her stocking, there was a knock at the door.

“I hope it’s not someone complaining about their present,” I joked.

It was Ryfon and Sprinkles, who’d worked hard all year and were about to start their vacation.

“We made something for Tanny,” they said. “It’s for her crib, something she can look at year round.”

They held up a mobile, pointing out the hand-carved toys showing Santa, an elf, a reindeer that looked like my beast, a Christmas tree, a present, and a baby that was identical to our daughter.

“It plays a different lullaby each night, and it lights up in green and pink, mimicking the northern lights,” they explained.

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