Hot for the Holidays by Lora Leigh

hand wrapped around the back of her neck, the other gripping her hip as he jerked her closer.
    “My mate,” he growled again. “Always mine.”
    Before she could affirm or deny, his head lowered, his lips covered hers and his tongue pushed forcefully between her lips.
    Immediately the taste of the mating hormone exploded through her senses. It was richer, spicier than ever before. She could feel the burn almost immediately, the explosion of sensation, hunger and need that lashed through her body and drove her to claw at his chest to get closer.
    As though the threat of death had pushed him past reason, he kissed her with a desperation she had never known before, a desperation she returned. Their tongues twined, mated, fought and surrendered in a dance as old as time.
    When he managed to jerk back she could only sway against him, dazed and uncertain, as she heard the men behind her, heard Todd’s frightened cries, his breathless accusations against her. The details of the plan she had given him, the plan that had never existed.
    “Get that bastard out of my mate’s home.” Hawke turned to Wolfe as Jess struggled to turn in his arms. “I want him dead.”
    “Quietly,” Wolfe stated, his dark eyes going between Hawke and Jessica. “He’s bringing some serious charges against Jess already, Hawke,” he warned.
    “Lies.” His arm tightened around Jess. “The bastard thought I was senseless from the drug he slipped me at the party. He didn’t give me near enough. I was weak, not unconscious. He lies. He bragged of his part in betraying the Breeds and his connections to the pure blood society that attacked in Advert before Jess’s release. I want him taken care of, Wolfe. Permanently. He knows Jess is my mate. He’s been deceitful enough that he’s put together the information on mating. He’s a risk we can’t afford.”
    Wolfe stared back at him for long seconds as Jess watched and fought to catch her breath. She felt as though she were falling, as though the strength had seeped from her limbs the moment she realized Todd was pulling the trigger.
    “He’ll be taken care of.” Wolfe nodded before turning back to the Breeds that had restrained Todd. “Take care of it, Jacob,” he ordered his second-in-command. “Quietly.”
    Todd would never be heard from again.
    She watched as he was dragged from the room, kicking, screaming, begging for mercy.
    There would be no mercy, she knew. If he hadn’t tried to kill Hawke, if he hadn’t admitted to being a part of drugging her, of attacking Haven, then he might have had a chance of escaping Breed law.
    “I’ll need your report in the morning.” Wolfe turned back to them.
    “How did you know?” Jess finally found her voice, her brain. “How did you know to be here?”
    Wolfe turned his gaze back to her, his eyes penetrating, as though he could see clear to her soul.
    “It’s a tradition,” he told her. “We came to hang a wreath on your door, to welcome your union into the pack. That was when we heard your screams and Hawke’s howls.”
    A tradition of acceptance. Her lips parted as emotion swamped her and the events of the day began to clash inside her.
    “Hawke, I expect your verbal report tomorrow after you turn in the written report,” Wolfe informed him. “Until then, I’ll clear your house out and leave you with your mate.”
    She could still hear Todd screaming outside. It was muted, distant, but the sound struck at her heart and left her shaking on the inside.
    He had been a friend. Tonight he had toasted to her union with Hawke; he had smiled and wished her every happiness. Hours later, he had tried to kill her.
    The door closed behind Wolfe and his enforcers, leaving them alone as Jess moved, pushed herself from Hawke’s embrace and went to the tree.
    Kneeling on the floor, she picked up the figurine that had fallen and touched her broken wing carefully.
    “She can’t be fixed,” Jess whispered as another tear slipped down her