The Alpha Under The Mistletoe

4

Maeve’s POV

The banging at the door had stopped, replaced by hurried voices, urgent but not hostile. My grip on the metal rod tightened as I crouched beside Aaron. He was weak, shivering slightly, but alive. His shoulder wrapped, chest bandaged. His hand twitched toward me, and I pressed down gently. “Stay with me,” I muttered. “Don’t you even think about moving yet.”

The door opened, and three people stepped in. Relief washed over them the moment their eyes landed on Aaron. One man, tall and broad, almost ran to his side. “Aaron! By the stars, we thought we’d lost you!”

I stayed where I was, rod still raised. “Who the hell are you?” I asked, voice firm.

The man turned to me. “I’m his Beta. We… we’ve been searching for him.” His gaze flicked to Aaron again, softening. “And you… you saved him?”

I gave a shrug, though my chest was still tight from adrenaline. “I did. And if he moves wrong, he dies. That’s the whole story.”

Shock passed over the Beta’s face, then relief, then something else. Respect. “We owe you,” he said, voice low but sincere. “Truly. Thank you.”

I waved him off. “I didn’t do it for thanks. I did it because if I hadn’t, he’d be dead.”

Aaron groaned, shifting slightly as the motion hit his ribs. I pressed his shoulder down. “Stay still,” I said, gently but firmly. His eyes fluttered open briefly. He gave me a weak nod, and for a moment, something passed between us...acknowledgment, gratitude, something unspoken.

The other two stepped closer, scanning his injuries with professional concern. “We need to get him out of here,” said a woman, her voice calm but urgent. “We can help him heal properly.”

I hesitated. My instincts screamed to keep him here, to finish what I had started. But the way they moved, coordinated, calm yet decisive, told me this was the right call. He was theirs. Or at least, this was where he belonged now.

I crouched closer to him. “Hey,” I whispered, brushing damp hair from his forehead. “You’ve got people now. You’re not alone anymore.”

He blinked slowly, weakly focusing on me. “People…?” he rasped.

“Yes,” I said. “They know what they’re doing. You’ll be fine… I think.”

The Beta carefully lifted Aaron onto a stretcher they had brought. I stayed close, helping stabilize his legs as they maneuvered him out of the cabin. His hand brushed mine for a brief second...weak, trembling. I felt a strange pull, a tug in my chest, and I couldn’t explain it.

The woman looked back at me. “You saved him. That’s not something we forget.”

I gave a short nod. “Good. Because I didn’t do it for glory.”

Aaron’s head lolled slightly against the stretcher as they lifted him. His eyes met mine one last time. Weak, tired, but aware. I saw something flicker there...gratitude, yes, but also curiosity. Recognition. Like he knew I’d been the one to keep him alive when no one else could.

The group carried him down the snow-dusted path to their truck. I watched, arms crossed, chest tight, adrenaline slowly fading into exhaustion. Alone again, the silence of my cabin felt heavy. The mess of sheets, bandages, and blood on the floor reminded me of the night that had changed everything.

I pressed my hands to my hips and exhaled slowly. I should’ve walked away when I saw him lying in the dirt. I should’ve let him die. But I didn’t. And now… whatever his enemies were, whatever his world held, I was on the edge of it, whether I wanted to be or not.

The truck started up, headlights slicing through the early morning light. I stayed at the door, watching them disappear down the road, my fingers curling against the cold wood frame. The Beta’s gaze had lingered on me for a moment as they left, respectful, curious, almost challenging.

I let out a long breath. Quiet returned to the cabin. My hands pressed again to my hips.

And then I heard it...a soft creak from behind me.

I turned sharply, every muscle tense. The cabin was empty. Or so I thought.

From the shadows near the back wall, something...or someone...moved. A silhouette, unfamiliar, watching. Not threatening… not yet. But enough to make my pulse spike and my instincts flare.

I swallowed, gripping the rod tighter. “Who’s there?” I demanded.

No answer. Just the quiet shuffle of movement.

I stepped forward cautiously, one boot creaking on the floorboards. The figure didn’t run. Didn’t speak. Just stayed there, silent, observing.

I realized then that helping Aaron hadn’t ended anything. It had started something new. Something bigger. Something that I couldn’t see clearly yet.

My stomach tightened. My mind raced. The adrenaline from the night surged back, sharp, focused, alert. I wasn’t alone. And I wasn’t safe. Not entirely.

But for the first time since seeing Aaron in the dirt, I felt a spark I couldn’t ignore. A pull toward a world I had tried so hard to leave behind.

I swallowed hard and took a careful step forward, eyes locked on the figure.

“Show yourself,” I said, voice steady, controlled. “And don’t waste my time.”

The figure moved slightly, just enough for me to catch the outline of a person. And then… it paused.

That was enough.