Page 54 of Wounded Christmas Wolf
And to her shock, her dad took a step backward.
He steadied himself a moment later, but Holly felt something strange flush through her body, a sense of assertiveness that she had never felt before.
“I know where you both were last night,” her dad said.
“So what?” Holly demanded. She stepped back, but only so she could stand side by side with Jace. “Sowhat, Dad?”
“So,” her father said, turning a stare on Jace, and his eyes actually seemed to vibrate, the gold was so vivid. She had never seen anything like it. “So this—thisboylied to me.”
Beside her, Jace went completely tense.
“How dare you talk to Jace that way,” Holly seethed. “Or me! So what, Dad? So I didn’t tell you there was anything going on with Jace and me. Sowhat?”
Her dad barely seemed to hear her. He was entirely focused on Jace.
“You lied, Jace.”
Jace stared at her dad. Then he squared his shoulders and confronted him.
“I didn’t.”
“I told you to stay away from my daughter until you had your wolf under control.”
“Youwhat?” Holly snapped, flooded with offended rage. “Dad! That’s none of your business! How dare you!”
“My wolfisunder control,” Jace said. His voice remained calm, and through her fury, Holly couldn’t help being desperately proud of him. “I didn’t lie to you, sir. I would never have put a hand on your daughter if I was any danger to her.”
“If your wolf is completely under control,” her dad growled, “then tell me something. Have you shifted yet? Even once, since you’ve been on the farm?”
Jace stared at her dad. His face remained flatly calm, but gold flickered in his eyes.
“No,” he said.
“Thendon’t lie to me.”
Jace’s face twisted. He turned his back, opened the kitchen door, and strode out.
“Dad!” Holly yelled. “You—how dare—Jace, come back!”
She grabbed Jace’s coat and ran out into the yard after him, coatless herself.
“Jace!” she shouted after him. “Jace!”
He was walking fast, but she caught up on the hill. She thrust the coat at him. Jace took it without looking at her.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s being a controlling asshole.”
“He’s right,” Jace said, so faintly she had to strain to hear him. He held the coat, making no move to put it on. “I thought I had it under control, it feels so much better around you, but ... he’s right. It’s not under control. Not really.”
He flicked a tormented glance at her, his eyes pure gold, and when his hands tightened on the coat, she realized that the backs of his hands had changed. There was thick dark fur there, and it was claws, not blunt human nails, that dug into the coat.
“So we’ll learn together,” she said, reaching for him.
Jace snarled at her—actually snarled. She jerked her hand back in shock and hurt.
He looked just as shocked, his eyes filled with guilty fear. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Then he whirled away from her and half-walked, half-ran up the hill.
