You knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.

I mean, what were you thinking? A shared Christmas with your boyfriend, his father, Kurt, the mother of his kids, Sara, her husband, Brad, Brad’s father. What about this screamed good idea?!

Dusty’s father—Kurt—had somehow baited, otherwise known as manipulated, him into chopping down a fresh tree to stick in the cabin that Kurt had bought you all for the holiday.

Of course, you had strayed off to look for a tree and inevitably got lost but, being as stubborn as you were, tried to find your way back on your own.

Well that went to shit. It was dark, you were half conscious due to the subzero temps, and to top it all off there was a pack of wolves surrounding you. Don’t make eye contact. Just don’t make eye contact.

Just as you were accepting your fate, coming to terms with the fact you were going to be eaten by wolves in the middle of nowhere, you heard it.

You heard Dusty’s sharp, authoritative shout.

“HUTT!”

He yelled at the wild animals, watching them scatter as he rushed over to you.