Page 9 of Naughty Elf: Aster
But quickly, the conversation morphed again, this time to their brand-new cat. The one who had been living in the laundry room until they could get everything set up, which apparently they did while I was still in the bag. The term “cat” scared me because even on a mantel, a feline could jump up. And if they did, one of most cat’s favorite games is always to knock things down. If I got knocked down, I was going to shatter into a thousand pieces. There was no coming back from that.
Relief filled me when Noel came in with the cat. The cutie wasn’t even an adult’s full hand in length. He had to have been barely old enough to be away from his mom.
I learned that Wolfe—that was the father’s name, or he was a wolf, I still wasn’t sure on that, found the kitten at work. I only knew the father’s name because someone had called him that at the store. Maybe it was a nickname because he was the star player on his college team, The Wolves back in the day or something. I really didn’t know, and I felt guilty listening at all.
Somebody abandoned the poor kitten. He was cuter than cute, but he was going to pose a threat to me soon enough. That is, unless Ernie finally came to get me, which, surprisingly, didn’t sound as much of a goal any longer.
I didn’t like being like this—seeing such intimate parts of their daily lives when they didn’t know I could do that, especially not after his father assured him I wasn’t spying for Santa. It was true, I wasn’t. But also, I was learning way more about them than they would have wanted some random stranger to know. A random stranger fired by Santa, at that.
But there was nothing I could do about it. I didn’t sleep in this form, or I wasn’t sure I did, although I did disappear for a little while in the overnights. I tried not to think too hard about that. It wasn’t sleep, though, because I didn’t have a body. I wasn’t breathing. I wasn’t eating. I wasn’t talking. I was just trapped.
At least if I had to be trapped, it was with a really good father, his adorable son, and a kitten who couldn’t reach me. That was something.
Chapter Seven
Wolfe
Noel took a bit longer to go to sleep than he usually did. The winds whipping through the trees created spooky noises around our cabin. Even if his big wolf of a dad couldn’t make his fears go away. But, after five books, two more than my usual limit, his eyes refused to stay open.
The sound of the wind outside gave my wolf and me comfort, even though it scared our pup. I listened to them for a few minutes before leaving Noel to his rest. I threw a small log into the fire before shutting the door. His wolf and flannel jammies would keep him warm, but the temperature was quickly dropping outside.
I picked up a laundry basket, intending to do a load before going to bed. The cookies plus the coffee I drank entirely too late in the evening weren’t doing me any favors in the sleepy department. I also had to clean up after our cookie mess. Entering the living room, my eyes were immediately drawn to the elf on the mantel; I didn’t dare call it the one on the shelf. He had no malleable arms and legs. No positioning him in different ways. He was a statue and yet, there was something about his expression I couldn’t decipher. Was it a smile? I mumbled something under my breath about him reminding me of the Mona Lisa.
The statue shook a bit, but there was an earthquake or a terrible storm even though we lived nowhere near a fault line or a place that had earthquakes in general.
What in the hell?
As the statue fell to the floor and shattered, a form grew out of the breakage in a swirl of red and green magic. My defenses rose, while I was also in awe.
What in the candy canes was going on here?
I froze as the form shifted into a man.
Not just any man.
The statue had become a man. An elf man. An elf?
“Who is Mona Lisa? Is she someone you know?” the person asked and even though my wolf had no qualms about the elf now standing naked in my living room, I tossed the basket of clothes at him. I was seconds away from shifting when my wolf spoke into my mind.
Mate. Elf is mate.
Fae and fruitcake. He was right.
“Wolfe, is it? That’s what someone called you in the grocery store when Noel held me.”
My eyes widened, and I took some steps backward, holding onto the wall with one hand to keep myself steady. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?”
“Oh. Perhaps that would make you feel better. To know my name. I am Aster of the North Pole.”
I let out a maniacal laugh. “Yeah, and I’m Santa’s pet wolf. I asked you a question. What are you doing here?”
My wolf fought me as the questions poured out of my mouth. According to him, this elf that just broke free from a statue or who was a statue at some point, was telling me he was from the North Pole.
Aster stepped forward, his hands out. I tried like hell not to let my gaze slip down his nakedness but I couldn’t help myself. Who knew elves had so much going on down there. Not this omega. My human defenses took hold and I threw the laundry basket at him, covering him with clothes. “Stay back.”
“Yes. Of course. I’m sorry. Wolfe is your name, correct? Such a lovely name for an omega wolf.”
I made sure to keep between him and my son sleeping just down the hall. My wolf needed to shut the hell up. Mates didn’tcome into a person’s life via statue and appear naked in the living room. I didn’t even know there were elf shifters in this world.