Page 34 of A Mountain Man Christmas

“Tristan!” she called, although a part of her already knew that neither he nor Ariadne could hear her. She was still at least a hundred feet away from the cabin. “Tristan, we need togo!”

How the heck had Angus found them? Tristan had assured her they would be completely hidden here. Angus shouldn’t have been able to track them down. Her mind spun into overdrive, formulating all kinds of possibilities as she beelined back to the cabin.

If Angus found them, they were all dead. Tristan hadn’t just wounded the man physically back in Alfangar; he’d injured Angus’s ego, and that was something the village chief wasn’t about to brush off easily, especially with the murder of his sons still fresh in his mind.

They had to get the heck out of here–and fast.

The cabin grew larger in her field of vision as she drew nearer. Seventy feet…sixty feet…

She glanced over her shoulder. The men were getting closer.

Fifty feet…forty-five feet…

A ferocious snarl made her stop in her tracks. Lyla’s breath faltered in her throat as she faced the creature that had made the sound.

“Oh, man,” she muttered. “This isnotmy idea of a Christmas surprise.”

The wolf snarled again, taking a step toward her. It was just as massive as she’d remembered and just as terrifying.

“Tristan,” she said as placatingly as she could, holding up both hands, “it’s just me. It’s Lyla. I know you’re in there somewhere.”

If the wolf could understand what she was saying, it gave no indication. A deep growl sent her staggering backward throughthe snow. Lyla’s heartbeat quickened. This was exactly what she’d been concerned about. From the look of things, Ariadne’s potion had either worn off or lost its potency. Lyla’s bet was on the latter.

She cast a glance over her shoulder. Angus and his men were still approaching, hemming her in as they drew nearer.

Great.

Now, she was trapped between two forces that were sure to kill her in the most violent ways possible.

Trapped between the Big Bad Wolf and the vengeful losers’ posse.

“Tristan,” she tried desperately, “please. I know you don’t want to hurt me.”

The wolf’s snarl told her she was badly mistaken.

When it leaped at her, she had the foresight to leap out of the way. She hit the snow and rolled to her feet, drawing her blade from beneath her coat. If she was going to die, she wasn’t about to make it easy, not for the wolf or these men.

The wolf turned to face her, its eyes aglow with murderous intent.

“Come and get me,” Lyla said, the blade trembling in her grip. “I’m ready for you.”

Before she could meet her demise, a voice yelled, “Lyla!”

The cabin door burst open. Two figures hurried out, racing down the stone steps toward her. Lyla recognized Ariadne in the lead, her silvery hair fluttering around her head as she ran. And just behind her, his face tight with worry….

Holy crud.

It was Tristan.

Chapter Thirteen

A Surprise for Christmas

The wolf bared its teeth at Lyla, then at Ariadne and Tristan as they approached from the cabin. Tristan nearly stopped dead in his tracks, his heart thudding erratically in his chest—and for more than one reason. Not only was Lyla in mortal danger again, but he could make out the shapes headed their way—nine men with a common goal that blinded them to everything else: revenge. And the wolf itself. It was larger than any wolf Tristan had ever seen. Pale fur specked with snow, and what could only be blood covered its massive body. Tristan gazed at the wolf, unable to shake the feeling that he was being stared at as well.

“What in the…?” he began.

“I was wrong this entire time,” Ariadne said, and he thought he could practically see his sister’s mind spinning into action, analyzing every issue before them. “I thought the curse manifested in you.”

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