Immediately, Vardon went after Ethan, and Calla stood her ground, despite Ethan trying to force her away. She wasn’t buying his protectiveness. Until Guthrie had time to shift, she was helping the other men.

Jasper was fighting Robert, and Oliver couldn’t get beyond them because they were battling it out in the doorway, the MacNeills on this side in the hallway and the McKinleys still in the bedroom.

Then Guthrie raced past her, barking at her to get back, which she did, only to give them room. She wasn’t hiding in a room somewhere. Guthrie took on Vardon, the biggest of the three McKinley wolves. Cearnach ran into the fray—taking on Robert. Jasper and Ethan fought Oliver. They were older wolves—more experienced in fighting. Still, Oliver had youth on his side and was able to get away from their snapping jaws more quickly.

Calla worried then about Duncan being alone downstairs, but she assumed he was guarding down there in case this was a ruse so others could come in a different way and flank them. Sure enough, she heard a window breaking on the back door. She didn’t know how many wolves would come in, so she scooted down the stairs to help Duncan.

“Lass, nay,” Duncan shouted, but this was her fight too.

If she hadn’t gotten involved with Baird in the first place, none of this would be happening now.

She raced across the stone tile floor in the kitchen and saw Baird in his wolf form. From the way Baird moved, he appeared to be in a lot of pain, but he didn’t hesitate to come after her.

She growled her fiercest growl and leaped at him. She figured Duncan would take over any minute, as soon as he could strip out of his clothes and shift into the wolf. But she had to take the initiative before Baird hurt her—again. Only fatally this time.

She lunged at Baird’s neck, and he yipped and fell away. He wanted to kill her. She could see it in his narrowed eyes, his lips drawn back in an angry snarl, and the low way he snarled at her right before he lunged at her.

But he couldn’t rise up on his hind legs to force her down. Most likely due to his injuries. The enamel of their wicked canines clashed and she tasted her blood, damn it, right before another wolf sailed past her.

Guthrie. Where the hell was Duncan?

Calla stepped back, ready to spring if Guthrie needed her, but as viciously as he tore into her tormentor, she knew Guthrie wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Over the sound of their growling and snarling, she listened for any sign of trouble anywhere else in the house. The fight upstairs sounded like it was over, and then Cearnach was beside her, checking her over.

Then Baird collapsed on her parents’ kitchen floor, and they all waited for him to shift back to his human form. Duncan had shifted and dressed and gone outside. She was about to go with him to protect him, but Cearnach barked at her to stay back. She barked right back at him. Damn it. She could help Duncan if he needed her.

She saw Heather coming down the stairs as a wolf, and Calla wondered where she’d been all this time.

Ethan hurried outside. Fine. Guthrie was still checking out Baird to make sure he really was dead this time, so she ran up the stairs to ensure that the other wolves were no longer any trouble.

She found Vardon, Robert, and Oliver’s bodies, now in human form. Then she heard a car door slam and padded over to peer out the window. Skinny. He talked to Duncan for a moment. Another man was sitting in the front seat of the vehicle, but he didn’t make any move to get out. Then Duncan raised his voice and motioned to the house. Skinny shook his head, got back into the car, then drove off.

She frowned. What? The McKinley pack couldn’t have left the bodies for the MacNeills to deal with. She hated that it had come to this, that Baird and his kin couldn’t have left well enough alone. She felt bad about it, but she knew they had made the choices that sealed their fates.

“What happened to you?” Calla asked Heather once they had shifted and were dressed.

“I would have helped, but there wasn’t any room to maneuver in the hallway where they were all fighting.”

Calla was glad Heather hadn’t been involved in the battle between wolves.

And in the middle of the pitch-black night, the MacNeill men were all out digging graves for the four dead men, their own pack having washed their hands of them.

***

Exhausted, they finally managed to return to Argent Castle the next day in a cavalcade of cars, just in case the MacNeill wolves had any more trouble. When they arrived home, everyone there kissed and hugged the returning pack members.

Julia took Calla aside. “We can delay the Christmas Eve party and make it a Hogmanay celebration if you’re too worn out.”

Calla was tired, but not that exhausted. “Nay, I’ve waited so long for this that I can’t wait any longer. Are we ready?” She wanted to celebrate the holidays, anything to get her mind off what had happened.

“Everyone was concerned about your return, but yes, we’re ready.”

Calla had noted that Oran and Ethan did not return with the rest of them. Before she could ask about them, Julia was hurrying to show her the various activities they had going on. Games were in progress for the little ones—puzzles and board games and treats—while the adults had returned to playing charades and other games once they learned everyone was safe.

Later, they feasted on bread and butter and smoked salmon and Scotch pie. The Texas triplet brothers and Shelley had slaved over making tamales, a Texas Christmas tradition.

When Calla heard Oran’s voice, she looked in the direction of the entrance to the great hall and could hardly believe her eyes. Her mother and father smiled at her as Ethan took their coats and handed them to another pack member. Calla rushed to greet them, tears in her eyes.