My Mate Was Buried at Christmas, So His Three Brothers Claimed Me novel · Chapter 8 of 24
Chapter 8: The Calendar
Hugo's POV
On New Year's Eve I drove to the pack house for flour, lamp oil and whatever the cook would give me.
Three days earlier I had walked out to my father's truck on the lake road, and it had pulled away before I reached it.
My grandmother had been in the passenger seat, and I saw her small white head through the back window.
She had left a tourtière on a stump, wrapped in a dish towel, with a note in her shaky hand.
The note said: Eat. You will need it.
I had read it four times and written it in my notebook.
I had written everything down since the day Mireille kissed me, because it was the only way I could believe it had happened.
The pack house yard was full of trucks.
Every wolf in the pack was in the white season, and the Reveillon had turned the big hall into something close to a riot.
I carried the flour in through the back.
Through the doorway I could see couples pressed against the walls, laughing and kissing and not caring who watched.
The rest of this chapter is part of the paid portion of the series. Chapters 1–6 of My Mate Was Buried at Christmas, So His Three Brothers Claimed Me are free to read — start from the beginning, then unlock the rest with coins in the app.
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