THE HOLIDAY I BECAME HIS LUNA

Hansville, Germany

The snowflakes were cool and delicate as they landed on her face, their tiny crystals melting on her skin. She shut her eyes, sinking into a moment that felt endless, stretched thin by the vast white.

"Dahlia," a voice cut through her thoughts. She looked up, startled.

"Coming," brushing snow off her heavy coat as she stood.

Tod shoved a mug of hot cocoa into her hands. "You're going to turn into an icicle out here. What's your deal?"

Jason handed her a cookie. "Here, eat this before you start crying again."

A small smile broke through.

"See? Told you she'd crack," Tod said, grinning.

"Love you guys," Dahlia said, pulling them into a hug.

"Yeah, yeah, we love you more," Tod replied, patting her back. "You'll get through this. Now, let's hit the antique shops before you freeze solid. I need few more gifts to get"

Jason made a face behind Tod's back, and Dahlia laughed.

"Keep that up and your face might stick like that," Tod warned, pointing at Jason.

By the time they reached the hotel, Dahlia was drained.

She kissed their cheeks and retreated to her room, grabbing her iPad to sketch. Tears fell again as she replayed the moment she'd overheard Henry in his office, the door slightly open.

"She's just a dumb intern," laughing with his secretary. "I'm bringing her home for the holidays to shut my family up."

"You, sure you're not into her? I've seen the way you look at her."

"Relax, I'm dumping her in couple of months"

It stung. She'd trusted him, believed in his charm. He'd been nothing but polite, never pushing things too far.

Tod had warned her, though. "There's something off about him," he'd said. "Those eyes... they're dark. Be careful." Tod always swore he had a sixth sense for people.

She grabbed her coat and slipped out the back of the hotel, wandering into the woods. It stung, why did he do that, she really liked him. The air was crisp, quiet, unreal, almost.

Then a scent hit her, sweet and sharp, she liked it and something else she couldn't place. It warmed her chest as she followed it deeper.

Another smell, metallic and heavy. Blood. She kept walking, surprised at how far it carried.

"Guess I've got a bloodhound's nose or something," she muttered to herself.

Then, she saw him-a massive wolf, his leg caught in a trap.

She rushed over, and his eyes locked onto hers, tracking her every move like he understood her.

Dahlia yanked off her gloves and gritted her teeth as she pried at the trap's jaws, cutting herself in the process her hands slick with blood.

"Almost there," she whispered, and he lifted his leg gingerly, their blood mingling with his.

Her stomach felt warm. "Don't eat me after I save you, deal?" she joked, meeting his gaze.

She smiled faintly, then reached out to touch him. He nuzzled her bleeding hand, his eyes shifting, softening.

Liking her