THE NIGHT CHRISTMAS CHOSE US

Paris was alive with holiday lights. Snow fell softly, covering the streets in white. The smell of roasted chestnuts, hot chocolate, and pine filled the air. Couples laughed as they strolled through the bustling Christmas market, their hands warm in mittens, their breath puffing in the cold air. Street musicians played festive tunes, and the glow of lanterns reflected on the freshly fallen snow. Alexander Damiens walked quickly, coat wrapped tight around his tall frame. CEO meetings, company obligations, family pressure — everything felt heavy, but tonight he had decided to escape. A walk, just for a few minutes, to breathe in the cold air and maybe, for once, forget the weight of being an Alpha in a world that demanded perfection. That’s when she almost collided with him. Mary Clarice. Hooded, masked, a small package clutched in her hands. Her dark eyes, sharp and cautious, met his amber ones. In that moment, everything else seemed to fade — the laughter, the music, the city itself. “Watch where you’re going,” she said, voice firm but tinged with surprise. Alexander smirked, the corner of his lips lifting. “And risk missing the chance to meet you?” Her eyes widened, suspicion crossing her face. “I don’t think we’ll be meeting again.” But something inside him refused to let the moment end. Snow swirled around them, catching in his dark hair, and for a fleeting second, he felt… different. A memory stirred — a Christmas night from long ago, warmth he had never truly known, a strange power that pulsed in his veins. He shook it off. Not now, he thought. Focus. “Fate doesn’t seem to agree,” he said softly, stepping closer. Mary’s heart skipped. She tried to hide the faint shimmer that danced along her fingers — a magic she didn’t fully understand, a power she had kept secret for years. “Fate has terrible timing,” she murmured. A sudden gust of wind made her stumble. Alexander’s hand shot out instinctively, catching her wrist. His touch sent a shiver through her, warmth spreading despite the cold. “You’re… different,” he said quietly, his eyes catching the faint shimmer that flickered over her fingers. Mary jerked back, trying to hide her secret. “I’m just careful,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. Alexander’s smirk softened. “Careful… I like that.” For a moment, the bustling city, the glowing lights, and the falling snow disappeared. It was just the two of them, standing there as if the world had paused. “You shouldn’t be here,” Mary whispered, but she did not move away. “And yet… here I am,” Alexander said, voice low, almost a caress, “and I’m not leaving.” Something unspoken passed between them — a pull, a connection neither could deny. Snowflakes settled on their coats and hair, but they didn’t notice. Mary’s mind raced. Who is this man? Why do I feel like my heart is racing? She wanted to leave, she knew she should, but something in him, something in the way he looked at her… it held her in place. Alexander felt it too. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met. The warmth of her presence, the way she didn’t bow to him, the subtle glow in her aura — it all made him ache with curiosity, fascination… something more. “I should go,” Mary whispered, finally trying to step back. Alexander’s hand lingered just a moment longer on hers. “Not yet,” he said softly. “Not tonight.” Snowflakes fell heavier now, coating the streets and lights in sparkling white. People bustled past them, oblivious to the silent tension, the unspoken words, the invisible thread that had connected them in this cold Paris evening. Then, from the corner of Alexander’s eye, a shadow moved. Someone had been watching them. Mary’s hand twitched near the package she carried. He noticed immediately, frowning, amber eyes narrowing. Before they could react, the figure melted into the snowy crowd, disappearing like smoke in the cold air. But the feeling remained — a whisper of danger, a silent warning. Mary pulled her hood tighter. “I really should go,” she said, voice firmer now, though a tremor lingered in her chest. Alexander didn’t let go of her wrist. “No,” he said softly, amber eyes locking onto hers. “Not yet. You’re not leaving until I know your name.” Mary hesitated, caught between wanting to escape and wanting to stay. Something about him — strong, intense, unrelenting — made her heart race faster than it should. Something about her, she realized, made him pause too. Snow swirled around them, lights reflected on their eyes, and for one perfect heartbeat, the world felt still. Two paths had crossed in the glow of Parisian holiday lights, and neither would ever be the same again. And in the shadows, unseen, someone — or something — was watching.