His Christmas Mate

Chapter 14

_Aria's POV_

For the rest of the day, I stayed in the library and read. The shelves rose like walls of a small city. The air smelled of old paper and polish. Sunlight came through the tall windows and landed on pages like warm hands. I pulled down book after book and let words crowd around me.

Many books were about pack life. They explained the rules. They explained the ranks. I read about Alphas, Betas and Gammas and how each had a role. The Alpha led. The Beta helped the Alpha keep peace. The Gamma organized training and duty. It sounded like a family and like a company at the same time, and the words made clearer what Lucien had tried to tell me at breakfast. The pack was careful and ordered. It was also sharp and dangerous if you did not know the rules.

One book said that the things I had always seen in films were wrong. The full moon was not the only time a werewolf changed. Many of them could shift when they wanted. The old stories were prettier than the real rules. The books said a wolf could turn at will, or at need, not only at a certain time. That line made my chest pick up. It meant Lucien had told the truth when he told me not all the tales were true.

Other pages explained mates. Mates were not a silly idea. The books called them soulmates but it was heavier and deeper. A mate bond was a pull that sometimes started when a wolf’s inner self woke at eighteen. The wolf within opened then for most. The books said wolves often met their mate after that awakening. The moon goddess Selene watched over them, they wrote, and she chose who fit who. Their religion sounded old and fierce and very different from the quiet prayers I had heard at home since my childhood. This made me feel like a person under a new sky.

There were political books too. Pack leaders argued like kings. They made deals and treaties. They punished rogues and thieves. The words about rival packs and secret alliances crawled with small danger. I read until my eyes blurred a little. Each page told me more about the world Lucien came from. The books did not make him less strange. They made him larger. They made his life real.

Then, a thin leather volume caught my eye. It sat low on a bottom shelf. It was heavy with dust. It had no title. On the front was a pentagon mark like a sign from another time. I dragged it out and the dust rose in a small cloud. When I opened it, the words smelled older. The letters were not carefully printed; they looked rushed and hungry.

The book talked about a demon god called Korvath. The name felt like a bruise. According to the pages, Korvath could grant wishes. Any wish, so long as you paid the price. The writing described rituals with red ink and pictures that made my skin crawl. There were steps to please Korvath and long lists of sacrifices and bargains. The book showed diagrams of altars and called for blood at midnight and ashes as proof.

I read a few paragraphs and my mouth went dry. The book said the demon liked bargains and loved to tie fate to a price. A cold thought moved through me: someone in this world had held this book before me and had wanted what Korvath offered. I pushed the pages closed. It felt wrong to keep reading. I slid the book back into the dark corner where I had found it and left it there. I wondered who had written such things and why.

By mid-afternoon I was tired. My head hummed with new words and too many faces. I found a chair and rested. I closed my eyes for a moment and the library breathed quietly around me. I slept and the books watched.

I woke to hard knocks on the door. Lucien was back. The sound bounced in my chest and made me sit up fast. I rubbed my eyes and went to meet him in the doorway.

“You slept,” he said with a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Good. You needed it.”

“I overslept,” I said, and I felt my cheeks burn. He laughed and reached for my hand, but just to point toward the dining hall. “Come,” he said. “We’ll have dinner together. I have something to tell you.”

We ate at the table, only the two of us. The food was simple and warm. He watched me while I ate and asked about my books. I told him the truth. I told him about the library and the books on packs and mates and how much I had learnt about his world. He listened carefully, nodding now and then like he had all the time in the world.

After I spoke, he put his fork down and looked at me with an expression I could not read. “I am glad you are learning,” he said. “Knowledge is safety. But there is more you need to know, Aria. Something I did not say at breakfast.”

My breath slowed. “What is it?”

He reached for the napkin and folded it as if folding his words would make them softer. “You live among dangerous people,” he said finally. “Not all danger comes from rogues or thieves. Some dangers wear faces that smile at meals. You are human and you are new here. I have spoken with other Alphas today. They worry...for you.”

“Worry?” I repeated. “Why would they worry about me?”

He explained slowly. “They worry because a human in a pack is rare. They also worry because it is risky. A human can be hurt by pack fights. A human can be used as a bargaining chip in politics. It is different for a wolf and for a human. They think it may be better if you were one of us.”

“Be one of you?” I echoed, my voice small.

“Yes.” He watched me. “I asked many questions. I sat with the Alphas. Most told me the same thing: a human with a pack life is safer if she can share the wolf.” He paused. “They think it would be better if you underwent the transformation.”

My fork froze in my hand. The world tilted a little. “Transformation?” I said. “What do you mean?”

He leaned forward, voice low. “Make you one of us. A change that joins you to the wolf. You would be able to shift. You would not be so vulnerable to the hazards of this life.”

I set the fork down and the small clink sounded loud. My skin felt tight as if someone had wrapped a ribbon too tight. “No,” I said before I thought about the sound. The word came out sharp. “No. I don’t want to become a monster.”

Lucien froze.

For a heartbeat he didn’t speak. His eyes widened just a little, and something inside them cracked. The hurt was fast like I had hit him without meaning to.

“Oh,” he said quietly. His voice wasn’t angry. It was wounded. “So… you think I am a monster?”

My chest dropped. “What? No...Lucien, I didn’t mean...”

He gave a small laugh but it wasn’t his usual warm laugh. It was soft and broken around the edges. “Aria, you said it so easily. You don’t want to become a monster. And the only monsters you know are us. My kind.” He swallowed. “Me.”

“No,” I said again, but this time my voice shook. “Lucien, that’s not what I meant. Please. I wasn’t saying you’re a monster. I wasn’t talking about you.”

He looked at me, eyes darker now, hurt swimming there. “Aria… I am a werewolf. If becoming one makes you a monster, then what does that make me?”

“It doesn’t make you anything bad,” I said quickly and leaned forward. “You’re kind. You saved me. You helped me. You’re....Lucien, listen to me....I wasn’t calling you a monster.”

I reached across the table, almost without thinking, wanting to take his hand, wanting to erase the pain that I had caused. “I just meant…” I swallowed hard. My throat felt tight. “I’m scared. That’s all. I don’t understand your world yet. I don’t understand the transformation. I’m scared of losing myself. I wasn’t talking about you.”

Lucien’s jaw clenched but his eyes softened slightly. The hurt was still there like a shadow between us.

“Aria,” he said softly, “you can tell me you’re afraid. I won’t be angry. But don’t think so little of what we are. Of what I am.”

“I don’t,” I whispered. “I promise I don’t. I’m sorry. I’m really… really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He looked away for a moment, breathing slowly, as if he was trying to pull himself back together.

Only then did he speak again.

“You will not become a monster, Aria. I would not ask if it were not the safest path. I know how frightening it sounds. But I have thought about this for days. I want you to be free, not trapped by us and not trapped by them.”

“Trapped by them?” I asked, my voice small again.

He told me then how deep the threats could run, how packs and ancient grudges and whispered alliances could turn dangerous the moment my name fell into the wrong ears. His jaw tightened as he spoke as if he was already preparing to fight them all.

“I am not forcing you,” he said when my face betrayed more fear. “You will have time to choose. There are safe steps. There are wise ones. If you say no now, we will not force you. I only ask you to think about it. I ask you to see that this world will not slow down because you are afraid.”

My throat closed. I thought of my former life; my small room at home, the thin blanket and the morning light. I thought of my sketchbook folded in my suitcase and my ring that smelled faintly of soap. I thought of the library and the dust and the pentagon mark on Korvath’s book. All of it pressed together and I wanted to cry.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I barely understand your world. How can I change my whole life for something I don’t even understand yet?”