Epilogue

Derek spent the evening of the full moon playing cards with Athena's mom, a true shark. He lost all his Smarties by the time they went to bed. Not that he slept much. He waited for Athena, who returned at dawn after spending the night wolfing out with her siblings.

"Hi, honey," she murmured as she crawled into bed.

"Come here." He grabbed her and snuggled her close. Relieved she'd made it through another shift. It had been almost two months since the whole thing with Rogers went down, but he still worried, even as no one came close to guessing the truth.

There'd been much shock in the news—and on social media—when the events of the church unfolded. A drug lab, run by the renowned doctor who'd double-crossed his people and fled with a ton of money. The cops had bought the story they planted, and even better, with the doctor discredited, things improved for the Sasquatch in custody. Fred's vocal proponents managed to have the courts declare him sentient and, as such, got the Bigfoot released. The Ogopogo remained a tourist attraction in its lake. However, the animal activists had improved its living conditions.

Not a word was ever said about werewolves. No one ever came knocking—although Grams and Gramps kept a close eye, even upping their security.

Frank got arrested for embezzlement and was in jail awaiting trial.

Grams and Athena's mom collaborated and created a THC-infused honey that was selling like hotcakes as people snatched it up as Christmas presents and for personal use.

He and Athena had moved into their own place but spent most of their weekends at one farm or the other.

Derek had never been happier, a happiness that trebled when Athena suddenly lurched from bed and ran to the bathroom to puke. And before anyone thought him a jerk for not following, Athena didn't like having her hair held while she barfed.

When she returned, he arched a brow. "Still think it was that sushi?"

Her wry smile said it all. "Guess it's a good thing we rented a two bedroom." Because, by this time next year, there'd be a little person crawling—or trotting—around.

"I love you," he stated. More than he could ever imagine.

"Prove it," she said as she crawled back into bed.

"How? Massage? The best oral of your life? Name it, and it's yours."

"I want ice cream. Make that a sundae. With whipped cream and bananas."

"It's six a.m.," he reminded.

"And?"

"Anything for you."

And he meant it. Now and always.

Ares unloaded the trees he'd cut and bound for the Christmas Market. While they used to allow people to come and choose their own at the farm, there'd been too many incidents with idiots who didn't listen to instructions and proved scary with an axe. Much better to provide them ready to go at the market. Quick money that he'd use to spoil his mother and sisters. A little extra would be nice, too, given Athena looked to be expecting a child with her firefighter boyfriend. Not that she'd announced it, but Ares smelled the change in her during their moon run.

As Ares whirled from his leaning stack to grab another tree, he startled at the sight of a little girl eyeballing him.

Rosy-cheeked, eyes bright. Her woolen red hat and mittens didn't match her light blue snowsuit at all.

"Hi," chirped the kid.

"Hey."

"Your trees are squished," she observed.

"They'll fluff out nice once we undo the twine."

The child cocked her head. "Mama says real trees are messy."

"Sometimes, but they sure smell good." Good enough he'd apparently pissed on them when he was little with no regard for the fact they sat in the living room. Drove his mom nuts, whereas Dad always laughed and claimed, "Boy's just marking his territory."

"Greta, you better not be bugging that man," a woman called out as she bustled over, her bright pink earmuffs holding back her dirty-blonde hair.

"He has real trees, Mommy." Greta pointed. "They're squishy now, but he says they smell good and get fluffy. Can we have one?"

"We are not getting a tree, sweet pea."

The tyke's lips turned down. "I know. ‘Cause we need food and not fri-vol-ussy things."

Ares found himself tightening as the child inadvertently revealed the real reason mom didn't have one.

"One day, I'll get you the biggest tree you ever saw," the woman murmured as she crouched by the child.

"Okay." Greta didn't have a tantrum like some kids.

Mom leaned close to whisper, "I saw a snowman wandering."

"Snowmen can't walk," snorted the kid.

"Well, this one is, and he has candy canes!"

"Oooh." Greta glanced left and right before spotting the suited character. "I see him!" She bolted for the snowman with candy.

The woman rose. "Sorry if she disturbed you."

"Nah, she was fine. Cute kid."

"Precocious with no filter you mean."

His lips curved. "She is. She mentioned you guys don't have a tree. Why don't you take one, on the house?"

She eyed him, her expression suspicious at the offer. "I don't need your charity."

"Hardly charity. I already know I won't sell all of these. So you taking one now saves me carting it back to my place."

Her lips pursed. "While your offer is kind, I'm afraid I don't have a way to get it to our place. But thank you."

With that, the pretty woman headed for her daughter, and Ares found himself glancing at her often as she strolled the Christmas Market. Not buying anything, but managing to give her kid a fun afternoon of face painting, a visit from Santa, and, of course, a fistful of candy canes.

When Ares closed up, toting five trees back onto the trailer he'd used to haul them, he noticed a red mitten lying on the ground. A woolen one he recognized and, stitched inside, a name.

Greta Dawson.

The kid would need it with snow in the forecast and mom tight on dough.

Hunting down where Greta and her mom lived wasn't stalking but rather doing a good deed. It wasn't hard. Not many Dawsons in the area.

One to be exact.

The townhome, which probably hadn't seen better years since it had been built fifty years ago, looked tidy compared to its neighbors. The walkway clear of snow and ice. A wreath that had obviously been made by a child hanging on the door. The front window plastered in paper cut-out snowflakes.

Ares knocked and stood waiting.

When the door flung open, the woman exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

He held up the mitten. "I found this."

Before the woman could reply, there was a blood-curdling scream from inside.

The woman turned and bolted inside the house.

Ares didn't think. He followed.

Are you ready for the next book? My Boyfriend Marks Trees.