A Very Beastly Christmas (Gray Back Bears Book 7) by T. S. Joyce Read Free Book Online Page A

thanked him with a kiss and slid into the middle. Mason sat beside her and closed the door as Beaston made his way around the front of the truck and got in behind the wheel.
    “Hey, bird,” Mason said, his dark eyes dancing. He was a boar shifter, but not the cute kind. She’d seen him Changed one time when they’d all fought with Damon against an immortal dragon. Mason’s change had shocked her to her bones as she’d been flying overhead. No, he wasn’t the cute kind. He was a giant, demon-black, spike-furred, curve-tusked giant Russian boar. She used to be afraid of predator shifters, like all of her raven people were, but then she’d gotten to know the Gray Backs. She’d gotten to know Damon, Mason, and all of the dominant, half-broken grizzlies, and then she’d gone and married the scariest bear shifter of all—her Beaston. Timid, she might be, but not much scared her anymore.
    Aviana bumped Mason on the shoulder in greeting and placed her frozen fingertips in front of the already warm heater.
    “Where are your gloves?” Beaston asked, a worried furrow darkening his brow.
    “I forgot them.”
    “Here,” he said without hesitation, pulling his own gloves off his hands.
    She couldn’t help her smile as he pulled the gloves over her fingertips. He might be a Beaston to others, but to her, he was the sweetest, most protective man she’d ever met. And he was hers. The thought of that still rocked her sometimes. After everything, he’d chosen her.
    “I saw the cartoon you put in Beaston’s lunch today,” Mason said as he helped buckle her seatbelt. Twisting around to search for the hiding contraption wasn’t as easy as when her tummy had been smaller.
    “Yeah?” she asked, ghosting a glance to Beaston.
    He was grinning as he pulled out onto the snow-covered gravel road behind Creed’s truck.
    She’d drawn a picture of a grizzly bear in a tree sitting beside a bird’s nest with a little white egg in it. A cartoon raven stood on the rim of the nest.
    “It was badass,” Beaston said low.
    “He showed everyone,” Mason said, rolling down the window by a few inches. “Damn, Beaston, I forget how scary your bear is. Are you riled up?”
    Beaston shrugged, and Aviana frowned.
    “No,” he said. “I feel fine.”
    Aviana snorted and tried to feel what Mason was feeling right now. She was apparently used to Beaston’s bear and staggering dominance, but she did remember how hard it had been to breathe around him in the beginning, and especially in tight spaces.
    She patted Mason’s leg. “Only two more hours until we reach Saratoga.”
    “I put the cartoon in my tackle box under the bed,” Beaston murmured. “It’s special.”
    The baby fluttered in her stomach, or perhaps that was just butterflies, she couldn’t tell. Beaston found a Christmas station on the radio and filled the cab of his truck with songs of the season. That was for her, she knew, but Mason drummed his fingers at the top of his open window and nodded his head along to the catchy beat. Her cheeks heated with pleasure, and she settled under Beaston’s arm as he draped it across her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. And there she stayed the entire trip to Sammy’s Bar, safe and warm.
    By the time their caravan had arrived at Sammy’s, Aviana was pretty sure she’d sung every Christmas song on the station twice through. Mason even sang along with her, and while Beaston didn’t know the words, he kept giving her those sideways glances he did when he was amused or working something out.
    In the parking lot, Mason helped her out of the truck as Willa and Georgia bounced around in circles, chattering about how excited they were for eggnog. Aviana wouldn’t point out that Willa’s version of eggnog was just straight rum. Georgia would find that out soon enough.
    The bar was rocking when Beaston led her through the front door. A couple of the Ashe Crew boys were really good on guitar and at the mic, and they were singing