Page 25 of A Mountain Man Christmas

She lay pinned beneath him now. He thought he registered a flicker of fear in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by rage.

“What, are you going to turn again and slash me to bits?”

Her words only made him more annoyed. But he couldn’t help wondering if there was some truth to it. She couldn’t have been lying about being attacked last night. She definitely looked like she’d been through a lot. Could he somehow have transformedand gone on a rampage without realizing it? He was still fully clothed. And yet…

Whatexactlyhad happened last night?

“I didn’t attack you,” he told her. “I was asleep in here the whole time. Why would I want to hurt you?”

She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “The same reason you hurt Angus’s sons. You know I’m right, Tristan.”

“It wasn’t me,” he insisted, but even his voice had begun to lack conviction. He released her. “I told you, I’ve been asleep. Look, if I turned last night, I wouldn’t still have clothes on. You would have seen footprints leading back here. Did you check for those?”

Lyla was silent for a moment. He could sense her thinking, calculating, rationalizing. Still, her eyes were filled with distrust. That sight stung Tristan, but he immediately shook off the feeling. Why should he care whether she trusted him or not?

“If it wasn’t you,” she said, “then who the hell attacked me last night?”

Her question made him freeze. If he hadn’t tried to kill her last night, then there was another werewolf out there on the loose. It must have followed them. Tristan’s heart beat a little faster. He and Lyla were in greater danger than he’d realized.

He shot to his feet. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Leave Alfangar? Where—”

“Now, Lyla!” he snapped. He snatched up his blade and started to tuck it under his coat but, as an afterthought, handed it to her. “It’s not safe here.”

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. She took the blade from him. “Let’s get out of here.”

Together, they hurried out of the dilapidated cabin…

…and froze in their tracks.

“What the—” Lyla began.

“They found us,” Tristan breathed.

Standing barely twenty feet away in a wide semi-circle were nine men. They all wore large coats and fur hats and had swords strapped to their hips. As soon as they laid eyes on the duo, several of the men drew their weapons.

The one man who hadn’t drawn his sword stepped forward, and Tristan’s entire body tensed.

“Hello, Tristan,” Angus Denning said. “You are a difficult man to track down. Now, please come peacefully with us. I would hate to have my men slaughter you in front of your new friend like you slaughtered my sons.”

Chapter Nine

Santa Hands out Free Concussions

Angus Denning was an underwhelming sight.

It was almost like getting catfished on Tinder. You had all these great expectations about what a person looked like. And then…well, you got to meet them in real life.

Angus was just like that. He wasn’t exactly short or ugly. In fact, by most standards, he was pretty good-looking. He was a head taller than Lyla, with a mess of silvery blond hair swept across his forehead. Blue eyes gazed back at her, giving her a once-over. For a man who had to be somewhat older than Tristan, he looked almost youthful.

But that was exactly the problem. She’d expected someone else—someone murderous and terrifying, with bloodshot eyes; a man who’d gone through hell and come back frothing at the lips to exact vengeance. This guy? Take away the sword and fur coat, and he could be a businessman working in a corner office. Nothing was imposing or scary about him except for the eight men flanking him on both sides with weapons drawn.

Pretty long, shiny swords, Lyla observed.

In her experience, most cronies carried semi-automatic rifles and pistols, blades if they were the masochistic kind. Longswords took things to a whole new level. And something told her these guys weren’t exactly novices.

“Angus,” Tristan said softly. “This is all a misunderstanding.”

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