A Very Mystic Christmas (The Mystic Wolves)

“Surprise, beautiful.”
He brushed a faint kiss over my lips, leaving an even fainter taste of something behind. I couldn’t help it. I licked my lips and caught the familiar flavor of mint.

“Mmmm.” I touched his mouth again, hoping to capture more as I licked the pad of my thumb. “Peppermint?”

“Candy cane. I couldn’t resist swiping one from the Christmas tree in the main living room.” He winked and my insides flip flopped. Mason didn’t hold himself back when it came to flirting with me and I wondered if I’d ever get used to it.

“Well, it was delicious.”

“Then, by all means, have another taste.”

Praise for A Very Mystic Christmas

“What a delight to read!  These heartwarming memories felt like a
gift from the author.  Reading
A Very Merry Christmas
definitely put me in the mood for Christmas!”

~ Caren Davis, Book Minion.

"Belinda Boring gives Mystic Wolves fans a heartfelt glimpse at some of our favorite characters in a beautiful new light. A behind the scenes peek at some of their most cherished memories. It’s a swoon-worthy must read for the holidays!"

~ Christina Silcox, Literary Redemption.

"Belinda Boring has done it yet again.  In this holiday treat, we get to view our beloved characters in different ways—quirky, tender, touching, romantic, funny, and sympathetic."

~ Lisa Markson, I Pimp My Authors.

Belinda Boring did something I thought she couldn’t do. She ended a book without a cliffhanger!!! She also made me fall in love her Mystic Wolves even more then I already did. This was a very touching read that had me smiling, laughing and wiping away tears with the turn of every page!
”

~ Susan McCray.

"This is a great collection of Christmas stories that will make sure you have the spirit of Christmas inside of you.”

~ Julie Hill.

“Belinda has done it again. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, she sideswiped me. I am in love with Mystic Wolves. I hated wolves until this series. I'm ready for much

more.”
~ K.B. Miller, Author of the Moon Coven series.
“Who wants to spend the holidays with a pack of wolves? I do! And you will too after you read
A Very Mystic Christmas
. Even Scrooge himself will find his icy heart melting when he gets a glimpse of the Mystic Wolves memories of Christmases past.”

~ Raquel Auriemma, Roc n’ Read
.
“A Very Mystic Christmas was amazing. I felt like I was hanging out with the Mystic Wolves and friends, telling stories and reminiscing, just catching up with the family.”

~ Jessa Markert, Jessa’s Epic Narrative.
 

“Belinda Boring has the ability to paint a picture so vivid that the reader feels they are an actual part of the memory.  They are no longer werewolves or vampires, but ordinary people with the same hopes and dreams as we do.”

~ Cindy Mucha Barton.

A Very Mystic Christmas

Copyright 2013 Belinda Boring

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Published by Blushing Heart Press

Edited by Kim Swain, Red Line Editing & Writing

Cover Design by
Lacey Weatherford, Moonstruck Media

KINDLE Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

To Santa Claus,

For teaching my childlike heart that it’s okay to believe in magic.

Acknowledgments

There is no denying these characters are extremely beloved and dear to my heart. I have loved every second of writing out their memories—moments in their lives so each reader will fall even more in love with them. There are always so many things I’d like to share about the Mystic Wolves, so this was the perfect solution. I hope you all enjoy it!

I wanted to give big SWOONY kisses to those who are a constant source of inspiration, support, and friendship to me:

To my beta readers: Caren, Susan, Cindy, Lisa, Jessica, Julia, and Christina. You all help keep me on track, especially when I’m being indecisive. I appreciate it!

To my SWOON SISTERS: Thank you for being absolutely AMAZEballs. Friends forever!

To my PA, Lisa Markson: Thank you for believing in me. Yep, you’re always right . . . except about Christmas. No more bah-humbug!

To my editor, Kim Swain: Thank you for always making my stories SHINE!

To my drill sergeant, Jessica Gibson: Okay, okay, I’m getting off Facebook. Put the sharp weapon DOWN! *chuckles* I love you.

To my Swoon Minions: Where would I be without all your help in promoting me. I appreciate the time and love you give, for being there whenever I’ve needed you. You all ROCK!

To my family: Mark and Lacey. I don’t know where I’d be without you, and I’m glad I’ll never have to find out. You are both blessings. Thank you for being you!

Finally, this novella wouldn’t exist without all the amazingly fabulous readers who love the Mystic Wolves as much as I do. Thank you for all your support and giddy excitement over Mason, Darcy, Devlin, Daniel, and Vlad. We love you so much and hope you continue with us into 2014. Remember, all good things come in PACKS.

Live. Laugh. Swoon. ALWAYS.

Bels

A Mystic Message of Love

Dear Reader,

We were having dinner one evening, talking about what an amazing year it’s been for the Mystic Wolves and how much we love and appreciate all the support you’ve shown. 

That’s when we decided . . . what better way to say thank you than this—a special collection of some of our favorite Christmas memories and recipes. At the beginning of a new book, there is sometimes a void of those things that aren’t necessarily vital to the storyline, but are important to us, as characters—little snippets, glimpses into our hearts, if you will.  Here are some of ours.

We hope you enjoy this collection of our holiday histories. We’re all about the magic—and that includes the magic of Christmas. Embrace that inner part of you that still believes in Santa and good will to all men. Spread some festive cheer, give the gift of time, share a sincere smile and lend a helping hand. Nothing is so important in the chaos of the season that we lose sight of the meaning of Christmas . . . love.

That’s our wish for you—that you love and are loved.

Keep being amazing!

Your friends,

Mason, Darcy, Jasmine, Daniel, Devlin, and Vlad.

Wish Upon A Star

With Mason and Jasmine

“Mason. Mason. Wake up!”

Rolling over and burying my face into the pillow, I desperately tried ignoring the urgent voice of my sister.  Some small part of my sleepy mind wondered if something was truly wrong, but it was overruled by the even stronger memory of the last time Jasmine stole into my room late at night. That emergency had been her absolute need to tell me her stuffed toy, Mr. Bear, was sad. I’d gotten up and had a “brotherly chat” with him, and as she wiped away her tears, the huge smile on her face made the late night trip to her bedroom worth it. I was a suck for my five-year-old sister.

Not tonight
, though. There was nothing that would make me leave the warm comfort of my bed.

“Mason!” Her voice was louder, more desperate. When she began tugging on my arm, I had no choice but to open my eyes.

“Jasmine?” I croaked. “What do you want?”

She peered down at me; her tangle of blonde curls framing her face. There was a wild glimmer of excitement
, making her eyes sparkle in the light from the hallway, letting me know this wasn’t like before. Her cheeks were flushed as she bounced on her feet, barely able to contain her eagerness. She turned on the lamp on bedside dresser.

“You need to hurry, Mason. Hurry!” Scampering over to my closet, she grabbed the first pair of shoes she could find and dumped them on the floor
beside my bed.

“Where are we going?” I asked, slipping on my sneakers and casting a quick glance at her. She was barefoot, her flannel pink nightie coming down to her ankles. Despite its length, there was no mistaking her dirty toes.

“Were you outside?” She didn’t answer; instead, she stomped her foot as she placed her hands on her hips in cute annoyance.

“Fine, fine. I’m coming.”

Grabbing a sweater and pulling it over my own pajamas, sleep was now the last thing on my mind. I didn’t know on what mission we were about to embark on, but I was about to find out.

Oh, the
joys of being an older brother.

****

“Can you see them?” In wide-eyed excitement, Jasmine pointed up into the night sky. One quick glance explained everything as one after another, streaks of glowing light shot across the blackened heavens.

I remembered hearing pack members talking about
a meteor shower, but had dismissed it when Daniel invited me to go fishing. Hanging out with my best friend was always a mixture of fun and mischief; so, when I returned home, telling my baby sister about falling stars was long gone from my mind. I should’ve known she’d find out, anyway. For someone so young, there wasn’t much that escaped her notice.

Slapping my arms to ward off the chill, I
did a little in-place jog to stay warm as puffs of heated breath hit cold air.

“I do. They’re pretty. Have you made your wish?”

“Nope, I was waiting for you. Come on, let’s go!” Once again, Jasmine tugged on my arm, urging me to follow her. “I want to see them better.”

I really didn’t want to spend any more time out in the cold. Even though falling stars were magical to Jasmine, they’d lost that mystic
al allure for me years ago; but I couldn’t tell her no. There was no way I was going to be the reason for her enormous smile to be replaced by disappointed tears. I was every bit the protective and doting brother—even if it meant sacrificing a warm bed.

“Lead the way
, then.” Grasping her hand, I grinned back at her, catching the brief flash of relief in her eyes. “We need to find the best possible ones so we can wish away to our heart’s content. What do you think?”

“Hmmm, I’m not sure where to go. Do you
, Mason?” I wanted to laugh at how serious she looked, standing there in bare feet with her blonde hair dancing softly in the slight breeze. Everything she did, she did with passion—that was one of the many things I loved about Jasmine.

“Wait a second, you forgot something.” Not waiting around long enough to explain, I raced back inside and returned with her fluffy, pink bunny slippers. “You’ll catch a cold if you keep walking barefoot.”

Jasmine peered down to her chilled toes. “You’re right. I guess I was too excited to think about it.”

“
That’s why you have me as your big brother. Now come on, I know the best spot.” Swinging our joined hands back and forth, the night silence was comfortably filled with our sibling chatter. Apparently, Jasmine had known about the meteor shower for days and had been stockpiling wishes she wanted to ask. With Christmas right around the corner, she’d already decided that Santa would
have
to listen to her if she added the power of wishing on stars. Her imagination was vivid, making it all the more interesting to be her partner in crime for this.

Walking a short distance away from the house,
we made our way amongst the tall trees and fallen logs until we finally came to a small area that gave us a perfect view of the whole sky. Hearing Jasmine gasp, confirmed I’d chosen well. Dropping my hand, she wasted no time in finding a soft patch of grass to lie down, face up, and eagerly waited for the celestial show. I didn’t hesitate, either, lying down beside her. Within just a few seconds, I counted three streaking stars.

“So, what
are the rules, sis?”

“What do you mean?” She didn’t turn to look at me
; her entire focus was on the expanse above us.

“Do we wish on every one we see? Or do we pick and choose?”

Jasmine bit her lip gently as she contemplated the right answer. “I think . . . I think we should pick and choose. That way we don’t use up all the wishes and leave some for others. We shouldn’t be selfish.”

Her answer made me beam with pride. “Exactly. We only need a few, right? So
, let’s see, do we keep the wish a secret or can we share it with each other?” I was totally playing along now, curious about which new toy she wanted for Christmas.

“Auntie Barbara says if we tell someone
a wish, it won’t come true; but . . .” She paused, taking her gaze away from the sky to solemnly look at me. “What if I do it wrong? I don’t think Santa will be mad if I share it with you. Do you? You’re my big brother and I trust you.”

“Then let’s do it that way.” The second I answered
, her face lit up. I could only imagine how much making that decision had worried her.

Staring above, I pointed as a star sizzled and burned a path before dying out. “I’ll go first. For Christmas, I’d like a new bike.” There was nothing wrong with the one I had now, but Daniel and I had talked about all the cool tricks we could do with a newer model. Last time we’d gone into Woodside Hollow together, we’d stood outside the
bicycle store, looking at the window display, eagerly talking about the different colors and features. I wanted a chrome one, with blue lightning bolts along the frame and white tires.

We continued watching
; and, before long, Jasmine became animated, again. “I want that one!” Her little finger traced a trail in the air and she didn’t speak until the last of the star’s light faded away. “I want a kitty. One just like Rebecca’s. Black fur with white paws, so I can call him Mr. Socks.”

I didn’t have the heart to correct her. Our father had made it painfully clear that he wouldn’t tolerate any pets in our family. I’d made the mistake of defying him once, believing he would
relent when he held the soft furry body in his hands. I still couldn’t think about what happened next without tears blurring my vision. It was a lesson in my father’s cruelty, and his demand for absolute obedience, that I never forgot. Jasmine may not remember, but there was no way I wanted her hurt like that.

Changing the topic, I tickled her side, smiling at her carefree giggles. Sooner or later
, she’d understand the way things were at our house; but until then, I wanted to protect her. Maybe I should use the money I had saved in my bank to buy her something similar. Something safer. Something that wouldn’t spark our father’s anger.

“How about we make another wish. I would like . . .” I let my sentence draw out as I waited for the right moment. “. . . My very own pumpkin pie for Christmas dessert! One just for me that I
don’t have to share.” My comment caused the exact response I'd anticipated from Jasmine, as she made loud, retching noises.

“Grrroooooossssss, Mason! Yucko!” Her fake gagging gave way to more chuckles.

“What’s the matter with pumpkin pie?” I acted indignant.

“Everything. It tastes gross. It smells gross.”

“I suppose you think apple’s better, huh?” I nudged her gently with my elbow. I loved teasing her.

“It is. Maybe . . .” She paused for a second as her breath hitched. “I know what I want. And I’m going to use that star there.”

I glanced at her instead of upward, more interested in sharing my sister’s delight than actually watching the stars.

“You going to fill me in on what you’re thinking?”

“I wish . . . that there were no more pumpkin pies!” She clapped her hands together, and rolled back and forth in a fit of laughter, obviously finding what she said hilarious—even more so when I pouted.

“How fair is that? I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you, Mason. That’s why. You’d have apple and cherry pies to eat, which are much better.”

“Hmmph,” I muttered, pretending to be upset.

“What if it was a super duper, uber tasty one?” There was a slight catch to her question. I didn’t need any light to know she was worried that her own teasing had bothered me.

“
Then I would eat every single bite and make noises like this!” Rolling to my side, I tickled her more while acting like I was eating the most delicious food ever. She squealed with glee, stamping her small feet on the ground as all thought of stargazing was forgotten.

“Stop it, Mason. Stoooppp!”

“No, not until you say pumpkin is yummier!”

“Never.” She snorted, trying to catch her breath.

“Then . . .” I increased my tickling, laughing at how flustered and pink her face was getting. “I can do this all night.”

“But,” she gasped. “I have one more wish. It’s important.”

“Say it.”

“Pumpkin pie is . . .”

I relented for a moment, my fingers hovering over her side. “Is what?”

She scrambled to her feet, escaping my attempts to pull her back. “Gross. Disgusting. Pukey!” To prove her point, she pretend
ed to stick her finger down her throat and made a horrendous sound.

“That’s it. Back to bed for you.” Lunging for her, I grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward me. All fun stopped and her smile plummeted.

“Not yet. I have one more wish.”

“Jasmine . . .” I was getting cold again
; and as much as this was fun, I knew there’d be hell to pay if she got sick. It didn’t matter that those types of things just happened; my father would blame me, for sure.

“Please.”

And with one look, I let her go.

“Okay, one more.”

****

Why
can't I say no?

Climbing up a nearby tree, I carefully gripped the trunk before reaching for the branch above. I’d assumed when Jasmine said she had one more
wish; we would simply look up at the sky and be done with it. But, when she explained that what she wanted was extra special, I pushed aside the need for warmth. In her childlike faith in magic and Santa Claus, Jasmine bravely told me she believed that if she actually gave a star to Santa, it practically guaranteed she would get whatever she asked for.

“Be careful, Mason. Don’t fall.” Her voice filtered up from the ground and a quick glance told me she hadn’t moved from her spot by the large roots. Worry etched her features
and her hands were clenched into fists by her side as she watched me climb.

“I’ll be okay, I promise. Does it matter
which star I catch?”

“I don’t think so.” She didn’t sound too sure.

I knew there was no physical way I could do what she asked. I’d learned at school about meteor showers and that stars were actually balls of burning gas. But how could I explain that to Jasmine and not crush the hope that made her so precious? If she wanted a star, I would get her one. Even if it was the rough rock I’d quickly picked up before clambering up the tree.

“I
think I’m almost high enough.” Just a few more branches and I was confident she’d be convinced. I tentatively stepped onto a thick limb, testing my weight before fully committing. Daniel and I had hurt ourselves climbing trees plenty of times over the years, and the memory of each injury swirled around in my mind as I ascended. I’d sprained my ankle, broken my arm, and even cracked ribs, performing lesser feats than this; and while I loved my sister, I also didn’t want to get in trouble. Sure enough, I stepped wrong and the branch beneath my feet cracked loudly, threatening to snap.

“Mason?” Fear laced her tone.