His Christmas Mate

Chapter 22

_Aria’s POV_

We entered the ruins with Isolde leading the way.

Her lantern lifted and fell as she walked, throwing long shadows across the broken stones. The guards spread out behind us. They were quiet but alert. Lucien stayed close to my side. I could feel his presence even when I did not look at him. It steadied me more than the thick walls of stone ever could.

The ruins felt colder inside. The air smelled old like dust and damp earth. Every sound echoed. My steps sounded too loud, even though I tried to walk softly. I looked around, my eyes taking in the broken pillars and fallen arches. Some stones were stacked like ribs. Others lay flat like graves.

Then, I saw the statue.

It stood to the left. It was half hidden by shadow. It was tall and carved from dark stone. Its face was smooth and empty, as if time had rubbed it away. There were no eyes, no mouth and no nose. Just a blank oval where a face should have been. That alone made my stomach tighten.

But then I looked lower.

Its hands were wrong. The fingers ended in long and sharp claws instead of nails. They curved inward as if they were ready to grab something. A pointed tail curled behind the statue, carved in stiff lines. And where its feet should have been, there were hooves. They were heavy and split like an animal’s.

A chill ran through me.

I stopped walking without meaning to. My breath caught in my throat. “Lucien,” I whispered and pointed. “What is that statue?”

He followed my gaze. His face did not change but his hand tightened around mine. “Do not worry too much about it,” he said calmly. “Time changes many things.”

“But it does not look like Selene,” I said. My voice shook a little. “It looks… wrong.”

He leaned closer so only I could hear him. “The moon goddess has many forms,” he said softly. “Some gentle. Some fierce. This place is old. The carvings are mixed with other beliefs. We need to focus on the ritual. The sooner it is completed, the better.”

I nodded, though my chest still felt tight. I looked away from the statue, but I could still feel it watching me, even without eyes.

Isolde did not stop. She walked deeper into the ruins toward the center. The ground sloped downward and opened into a wide space. Broken walls circled us like the remains of a crown.

At the center stood an altar.

It was made of pale stone. It had been worn smooth in places by time. Cracks ran through it like veins. Parts of it had chipped away but most of it was still whole. It was the most preserved thing in the ruins. That alone felt strange. Everything else had been eaten by age yet the altar stood strong.

There was a symbol carved into its surface. A pentagon with lines crossing through it and a shape like a crescent cutting into the edge. I frowned when I saw it. I knew I had seen it before. Somewhere. But the memory slipped away every time I reached for it.

Isolde raised her hand and stopped. “Here,” she said. “This is where it must be done.”

Lucien squeezed my hand once. “We are almost there,” he said. “You are doing well.”

My legs felt weak but I walked forward anyway. Isolde stood beside the altar and motioned for me to come closer.

“Place your hand above the stone,” she said. “This will hurt a little. But it is necessary.”

I swallowed and nodded. I looked at Lucien. “Stay with me,” I said quietly.

“I am here,” he said at once. “Look at me if it hurts.”

I stepped up to the altar. The stone was cold even from a distance. I held my hand out, palm down, hovering over it. My fingers trembled.

Isolde took out a small silver dagger. The blade caught the lantern light and flashed. She began to chant in a low voice. The words were not English. They rolled and twisted. They were sharp and heavy.

“Audi vocem nostram… aperi viam…” she said.

The sound made my skin prickle. The air seemed to press closer as if the ruins were leaning in to listen.

Isolde lifted the dagger. “Be still,” she said.

The blade cut into my palm.

Pain flared sharp and hot. I gasped and bit my lip. Blood welled up at once and spilled over my skin. It dripped down and splashed onto the altar. The stone darkened as it drank the red.

I clenched my teeth and tried not to cry out. Lucien’s hand was on my shoulder now. “You are doing well,” he said. “Breathe.”

Isolde kept chanting. Her voice grew louder.

“Accipe sanguinem… ostende donum…”

More blood fell. The symbol on the altar seemed to shine for a moment, then fade. The stone felt warm now....too warm.

Pain bloomed in my stomach. It started low, deep inside, and then spread outward. My legs shook. My vision blurred.

I cried out and dropped to my knees.

Lucien knelt with me. “Aria,” he said. “Look at me.”

I tried but the pain grew worse. It wrapped around my spine and squeezed. I felt like something inside me was pushing, stretching, trying to tear free.

Then, I heard a voice.

I am trapped. Please free me.

I froze. My heart pounded. The voice was inside my head. It was soft, desperate and full of pain.

“I am losing my mind,” I whispered.

No, the voice said. It is me, Nala. Your wolf. Please free me.

“My… wolf?” I gasped.

Another wave of pain hit me and I screamed. The world tilted. My bones felt too tight in my skin.

Isolde’s chanting changed. Her words grew faster.

“Permitte surgere… ostende veritatem…”

I felt something rise inside me. It was hot and wild. It clawed at my chest and ribs.

“I have a wolf,” I said breathlessly. “Her name is Nala. She wants to come out but she cannot.”

Lucien nodded quickly. “That is normal,” he said. “Hold on. The ritual is not complete yet.”

Isolde took out a small pouch. She opened it and blew a fine white powder into my face. I coughed and my eyes burned. She kept chanting.

“Contine… frange… obstringe…”

The pain dulled suddenly. It was not gone, but muted. Like a scream pushed under water.

Nala cried out in my head. I feel our mate, she said. He is close. I need him.

Confusion flooded me. “She says… she feels our mate,” I whispered. My head spun. “She thinks it is you.”

Lucien looked startled for a moment. Then his face softened. “Stay focused,” he said. “It will be over soon.”

Nala spoke again. He is ours. He must mark us.

I tried to stand. My legs gave out and I fell forward. Lucien caught me before I hit the stone. He held me against his chest.

“You are my mate,” I whispered weakly. “She told me.”

“Aria,” he said urgently. “Please. Look at me.”

I tried.

I really tried to lift my head, to focus on his face, on his voice. But everything felt far away, like I was sinking under deep water. My body was heavy. My limbs would not obey me. The pain inside me faded into a strange numbness and that scared me more than the pain had.

Lucien’s arms were tight around me. I could feel the warmth of him, solid and real, and I clung to it with what little strength I had left. His scent filled my lungs and for a moment it felt safe, like home, even though I did not understand why.

“Nala,” I whispered. I was unsure if I was speaking aloud or only in my mind. There was no answer now....only silence.

The ruins blurred. The broken stones melted into shadows. The cold air slipped away. All I could hear was Lucien calling my name again and again, his voice rough and panicked, nothing like the calm man who had promised to protect me.

“Stay with me,” he said. “Please, Aria. Do not let go.”

I wanted to answer him. I wanted to tell him I was still there. But the darkness closed in, soft and heavy, pulling me down like a tide I could not fight.

The last thing I felt was his hand against my cheek, warm and shaking.

Then everything went black.