Claimed by the Alpha on Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve was supposed to smell like cinnamon, pine, and warm memories. Instead, it smelled like betrayal. I stood in the middle of the crowded restaurant, fairy lights glowing overhead, a half-empty glass of champagne trembling in my hand, while my boyfriend kissed another woman as if I didn’t exist. Not just another woman. Her. Tall. Blonde. Laughing too loudly. Her manicured fingers curled around his collar like she owned the i***t. Around us, Christmas music played softly, mockingly cheerful. Couples laughed. Glasses clinked. Someone cheered near the bar. And my heart cracked open. “Are you serious?” My voice came out steadier than I felt as I stepped forward. Ethan froze. The woman turned first, eyes flicking over me with mild annoyance, as if I were an inconvenience. “Oh. You didn’t tell me she’d be here.” She. As if I were an object. Ethan pulled away from her too slowly, guilt flashing across his face for half a second before it hardened into something defensive. “Mara—listen, it’s not what it looks like.” I laughed. A sharp, humorless sound. “You’re kissing her in public on Christmas Eve. I’d hate to see what it actually looks like.” A few heads turned. Whispers rippled through the room. Heat crawled up my neck, but I refused to shrink. I never had. The woman crossed her arms. “Honestly, if you’re going to make a scene—” “A scene?” I cut in, finally looking at her fully. “You’re sleeping with my boyfriend.” Her lips curved into a smug smile. “Ex-boyfriend, I think.” That did it. Ethan opened his mouth, probably to say something useless, something cowardly—but I was already stepping back. “I hope you’re happy,” I said, my voice low and deadly calm. “Because this is the last time you ever humiliate me.” — that’s it, I was so done with all the lies and insecurities he made me believe, this could not be my destiny. I was done! I turned toward the exit, my heels clicking sharply against the floor. And that’s when it happened. A shadow fell over me. Not metaphorical. Real. Solid. Powerful. I nearly collided with a broad chest dressed in black—tailored, expensive, immovable. A large hand came up instinctively, steadying me by the waist before I could stumble. — sure why not another embarrassment? The contact sent a strange jolt through my body. Heat. Awareness. I looked up. And forgot how to breathe. – Jezzz was I dreaming? He was tall. Easily over six foot three. Dark hair, sharp jawline dusted with stubble, piercing eyes the color of molten gold—no, that couldn’t be right. It was just the lighting. Still, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made the room disappear.—and for that I was thankful for a second. “Careful,” he said, his voice deep and calm, like controlled thunder. I swallowed. “Sorry. I wasn’t looking.” His hand lingered a fraction of a second too long before he released me. “You should always look where you’re going.” There was something in his tone. Not rude. Not threatening. Protective. Behind me, I heard a scoff. “Well, this is awkward,” the other woman said loudly. “Is she going to cry now or—” The man turned. Slowly. The temperature in the room shifted. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t smile. He simply looked at her—and something primal flickered in his eyes. “Apologize,” he said. The woman blinked. “Excuse me?” “You heard me.” Ethan stepped forward, trying to laugh it off. “Hey, man, this doesn’t concern you.” The stranger finally looked at him. For the first time, I saw fear flicker across Ethan’s face. “She’s upset,” the man continued, his voice dangerously even. “You betrayed her. And now you’re allowing her to be disrespected.” He stepped closer, his presence dominating the space. “That concerns me.” I should have said something. I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because no one had ever stood up for me like that before. Not without being asked. Not without hesitation. The woman shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean—” “Leave,” he interrupted. Her mouth fell open. “What?” “Now.” There was no shouting. No threats. Just certainty. She grabbed her purse and stormed past us, heels clicking angrily. Ethan hesitated, torn between pride and survival. “I—uh—Mara, we can talk about this,” he said weakly. I met his eyes, feeling oddly calm. “No. We can’t.” He left. Cowardly. Not even a single “sorry”, even though I know he doesn’t feel sorry at all for cheating on me, again. The room slowly returned to normal, though I felt anything but. I turned back to the stranger. “You didn’t have to do that.” “Yes,” he said quietly. “I did.” Our gazes locked again. Something unspoken passed between us—recognition without reason. “You okay?” he asked. I nodded. “I will be. Thank you for watching my back” A corner of his mouth lifted. Not quite a smile. “Good.” He hesitated, then added, “It’s dangerous for you to be alone tonight.” I stiffened. “I can take care of myself.” “I know,” he said smoothly. “That’s not what I meant.” Then, softer, almost to himself: “Especially tonight.” The Christmas lights flickered. A strange scent filled the air—pine, smoke, something wild. My pulse quickened. “What’s your name?” I asked. His gaze darkened, something ancient stirring beneath the surface. “Rowan,” he said. Before I could respond, he leaned in, his voice dropping so low only I could hear. “You belong to me.” I pulled back sharply. “Excuse me?” His eyes glowed. Not metaphorically. Literally. Golden. Burning. Unmistakable. “My mate,” he finished and I froze. And suddenly, Christmas Eve was no longer just a holiday. It was the night everything changed.