Page 36 of A Mountain Man Christmas

The attacking wolf’s paw shot out so fast that he almost didn’t see it. Pain flared in Tristan’s side, and he hit the snow with a soft thud.

“Tristan!” Lyla’s voice sounded far away.

His side throbbed. In the corner of his vision, he saw the larger wolf approach, looming over him, its eyes blazing with victory. Tristan realized there wasn’t much he could do to protect himself at this point. The wolf was larger, quicker, and stronger. It was the living embodiment of a curse that had plagued his bloodline for generations.

This was it. The end. It was almost ironic when he thought about it. He was about to die at the hands of a wolf with the same bloodline.

Defiance coursed through him like water over a dam. He wasn’t about to give up, not now.

He staggered onto all fours, gazing up at the wolf, which was slowly advancing again, preparing for another strike. The throbbing in Tristan’s side made it almost impossible to concentrate, but he faced the creature, daring it to attack again.

Come on, he urged.Come at me.

As if on cue, the monster lunged.

Tristan darted left.

He saw what would happen split seconds before it did. The wolf slammed headfirst into the nearest boulder with a resounding thud. With a series of yelps, it sank to the ground. The gleam in its eyes faded.

Tentatively, Tristan approached the fallen creature, half-expecting it to get back up and swipe at his throat. But the wolfremained on its side. It didn’t move, not even when Tristan poked it.

And then the wolf began to shift. The pale fur receded into pinkish flesh, and he heard the sound of bones snapping and taking new shape as the creature shrank. The razor-sharp teeth sank into a snout that was quickly flattening against a human face. Within seconds, all that was left of the wolf was a young man lying in the fetal position in the snow.

Tristan shifted back to human form and stood over the man, his heart hammering in his chest as he took in the sight. He’d figured it out minutes ago, but it came as no less of a shock to see the face of the unconscious form at his feet.

“You,” he said.

Chapter Fourteen

Ariadne—Healer, Diplomat

Trust Angus to try to take advantage of the situation.

Before either Lyla or Ariadne could move, Angus ordered his men to seize them. Both women now stood with gleaming swords held to their necks.

“A bit overkill, don’t you think?” Lyla muttered.

“Silence,” the village chief snarled. “I have you all now, you and that murderer.”

But even as he spoke, she thought she caught a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that Tristan wasn’t the murderous wolf he’d been chasing this whole time. Even Lyla found herself wondering if she’d been seeing double.

Tristan is innocent.

The thought filled her mind, almost like a dream. If he wasn’t responsible for the deaths of Angus’s children, then who was?

The answer to her question came a second later.

“Lord Denning,” one of Angus’s men said, pointing.

She followed his finger and couldn’t help but gasp. It was Tristan, back in human form, trudging up the hill. He was completely naked, his skin bared to the cold wind. But it was the figure he was carrying that caught her eye. A slender young man with long, dark hair and with not a stitch on him.

Who on Earth…?

“Is that…Lewis?” Ariadne croaked.

“Lewis?” Lyla repeated. “Your nephew?”

She’d never laid eyes on the boy before, but she figured he must be the one. The berserk wolf that had tried to end her life twice now lay unconscious in Tristan’s arms, a harmless sight.

---