Finding Love with the Alpha King at Christmas

Chapter 9

Emma

For a moment, nobody moved.

The guard stood rigid in front of me, fingers hovering way too close to my arm. My heart was still hammering from the word detained when the newcomer stepped closer.

“Everything all right here?” he asked.

His voice was calm, but the guard snapped to attention like someone had yanked a string.

Up close, the man looked relaxed—hands in his pockets, shoulders easy—but his eyes were sharp. Short dark blond hair, warm brown eyes, a pale scar along his jaw that caught the light when he moved.

“Yes, Beta,” the guard said immediately. “I found this human in a restricted corridor. She claims the King brought her here. I was about to—”

“Overdo it?” the newcomer suggested mildly. “Because that’s what it sounded like from down the hall.”

The guard’s mouth snapped shut.

The man turned to me. “I’m Kieran Ashford,” he said. “Lucian’s Beta.”

That explained the Beta and the way the guard suddenly looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.

“Emma,” I said. “Brooks. I swear I’m not trying to infiltrate your… security corridor. I got lost.”

“Which is not hard to do,” Kieran said. “This wing confuses everyone the first week, sometimes the first decade.”

He glanced back at the guard. “Vigilance is good. Barking at guests, less good. If someone’s clearly been fed, clothed, and isn’t chained to the wall, start with ‘Can I help you?’ next time.”

The guard swallowed. “Yes, Beta.”

“And if Lucian brings a human into the inner palace,” Kieran added, “assume he did it on purpose.”

That landed somewhere deep I tried not to touch.

“Yes, Beta,” the guard said again. He shot me a stiff, apologetic nod and hurried off.

I let out a breath. “So,” I said. “Am I fired from the castle already, or…?”

Kieran’s mouth tipped. “You’re not in trouble,” he said. “You did nothing wrong. Restricted areas are for us to worry about, not for you to stumble into because the castle eats sense of direction.”

“I thought I was following directions,” I muttered. “Apparently Lucian underestimated my talent for disaster.”

“Lucian grew up here and still gets turned around when he’s distracted,” Kieran said. “You’re doing fine. Come on, I’ll walk you back before you accidentally stumble into dungeons.”

My pride wanted to say no. My ribs, legs, and nerves said, take the escort.

“Thanks,” I said. “I promise I wasn’t snooping for state secrets.”

“If you were, you picked the most boring hallway,” he said. “That’s on you.”

We fell into step. This corridor had garlands a little less murdery than the last one, candles instead of iron torches. My pulse slowly came down.

“So,” he said lightly, “first crash, first werewolf, first time getting yelled at by palace security. Impressive record for a few days.”

“You forgot ‘first time waking up in a fairy-tale room,’” I said. “And ‘first gingerbread wolf from a random child.’”

“Ah, that’d be Micah,” Kieran said. “He was very proud of that cookie. You passing out at the table would have crushed him.”

I smiled despite myself. “Tell him he saved my life.”

“I will.” He glanced sideways at me. “Lucian said you’ve had a rough run even before the crash. I won’t pry. Just… if anyone here makes it worse instead of better, you come find me.”

“Did he really say that?” The question slipped out.

Kieran nodded. “He’s not great with… soft words. But he’s particular about who’s under his protection.”

Under his protection. The phrase sent a strange little static through me.

We reached a wider staircase than the one I’d been lost in. Sunlight spilled through tall windows; garlands and lanterns lined the rail. We started up. Halfway, my legs and ribs started complaining again. I grabbed the banister.

“You okay?” Kieran asked.

“Fine,” I puffed. “Just, you know. Gravity.”

He offered his arm without pushing. “Let me help. Makes both of us feel better.”

I hesitated, then slid my hand into the crook of his elbow. His warmth steadied me more than I wanted to admit.

“So you and Lucian,” I said, mostly to distract myself. “Have you always been… whatever this is?”

“Beta and Alpha?” he said. “Pretty much. Our parents liked to joke I was assigned to him in the cradle. We’ve been annoying each other ever since.”

“Can’t really imagine him as a baby,” I said. “Just a very small, serious werewolf.”

“Oh, he was serious,” Kieran said, grinning. “And a menace. When we were kids, he hated lessons. Decided one year the best way to avoid them was to hide under the Christmas tree in wolf form. Tutors searched the palace for hours. The only clue was that the tree kept shedding black fur.”

A startled laugh burst out of me. It felt weird and good and a little painful, like stretching a muscle I hadn’t used since the accident.

“You’re lying,” I said.

“I swear to you,” he said. “Which reminds me—one Christmas he ate so many sugared apples he made himself sick and couldn’t shift for two days. The kitchen still puts them out every year just to watch him glare at them.”

Another laugh slipped free. “You’re telling me the terrifying Alpha King once crammed himself under a tree and got sick by fruit.”

“Repeatedly,” Kieran said. “Don’t worry, I’d never say that to his face. I’d like to keep mine intact.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think the world deserves to know the truth.”

We turned down the familiar hallway that led to the guest rooms. My door came into view, wreath and all. Relief fluttered in my chest.

Kieran slowed. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “if you want to explore, ask someone to go with you next time. Not because you’re a prisoner. We’re still tightening security in some areas. Better a guide than another run-in with Captain Overzealous.”

Heat crept up my neck. “I don’t like being treated like I can’t be trusted,” I said. “Or like I’m… someone’s responsibility.”

“I figured,” he said quietly. “But there’s a difference between being controlled and being looked after. If anyone here pushes you toward the first instead of the second, you tell me. Or Lucian.”

“Lucian has an entire kingdom,” I said. “He doesn’t need my hallway drama on top of it.”

Kieran’s eyes sharpened. “If he knew you were upset and no one told him, he’d be furious,” he said. “He brought you here himself. That matters.”

I swallowed. It was easier to absorb stories of Lucian hiding under trees than to sit with the weight of that matters.

Kieran nodded toward my door. “This is you,” he said. “Try to stay out of the security corridors, yeah? They don’t have very good snacks.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said.

He didn’t move away right away. “Emma,” he added, more gently, “you’re not intruding here. If Lucian says you belong under his roof, then you do. You’re not a burden to him. Or to us.”

The words hit like someone had opened a window inside my chest.

My first instinct was to argue, list all the ways I’d been “too much” or “too difficult” in other people’s houses. Instead, I just nodded, because I didn’t trust my voice.

“If you need anything,” he said, stepping back, “and you don’t feel like knocking on the scary Alpha King’s door, ask for me. Or Thalia—my sister, head of the guard. Any wolf can point you the way.”

“Thank you,” I managed.

He gave me a small, easy smile. “Anytime,” he said, and walked away.

I slipped into my room and closed the door softly.

The fire still crackled. The little tree by the window twinkled. Outside, snow drifted past the glass. I sat on the edge of the bed and realized I was still holding my breath.

You’re not intruding here. You’re not a burden.

I’d lived in plenty of houses. Foster homes with chore charts and locked refrigerators. Tiny apartments shared with roommates who called my half of the rent “helping out.” Brandon’s polished place, where every piece of furniture was his choice and I’d always felt like a guest on borrowed time.

No one had ever looked at me and said my presence wasn’t something they were tolerating.

I lay back and stared up at the canopy, listening to the muffled sounds of the castle—footsteps, distant voices, a faint ripple of music from somewhere below.

I didn’t know how long I’d be here. I didn’t know what Lucian and his world really wanted from me, beyond this Mate bond I still wasn’t ready to touch.

But as I lay there, holding onto Kieran’s words like they were something fragile and glowing, I couldn’t help wondering—not with dread this time, but with a tiny, unsettling flicker of hope—what this place, and these people, might end up meaning for me.

And whether, for the first time, staying might be an option that was mine to choose.