3. Alexandre
1413 Words
Christmas was a complication.
I'd learned that long ago.
Humans brought expectations into the mountains the way they brought luggage. Over packed, unnecessary, and prone to breaking under a little pressure. Holidays made them loud. And snowstorms, when paired with alcohol and entitlement, turned sensible guests into liabilities.
Which was why everything had to be perfect.
I loved the holidays. I loved people coming together. I loved the way, as a boy, we would sit around bonfires with the town and sing until the sun rose. Most times I wouldn't make it that long. I'd fall asleep next to my mother, her cloak draped around us. My father would be leading the charge with singing. We would laugh, and drink, and when the sun rose we would fall into a heap and sleep until the moon rose again. Then, we'd exchange presents and sing more.
Now, I decorate this lodge every year in memory of them. Every lantern, every wreath, every small ornament carefully placed.
Now, I keep the traditions alive with the town, through the lodge, and through my pack. Through these rituals, I honoured my parents' memory.
I stood on the upper balcony of the lodge, hands braced on the rail, eyes sweeping the grounds below. Snow was still falling. Steady, thick and soundless. Layering the forest in white.
Lanterns glowed softly along the paths. The wards hummed low beneath the stone, old magic woven deep into the mountain long before the lodge had been rebuilt into something humans could romantacise, and we could collect a paycheck.
Valombreuse wasn't just a luxury retreat.
It was territory.
Behind me, the lodge moved of its own will. Staff passed quietly, fires tended, meals timed precisely. Every wolf on duty knew the schedule by heart. The humans would see warmth and indulgence. They wouldn't noticed the exits being subtly monitored, the scent suppressors refreshed. The security rotations tightened.
They never did.
The full moon crested the ridge tonight.
That was the real complication.
Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and the night after. All under moonlight strong enough to pull at our bones. I'd staggered the packs rotations carefully, arranged transport to higher trails, ensured no one would be confined when the moon came calling. Wolves needed space to run. To shed skin. To breathe.
I wouldn't have anyone locked inside when our instincts demanded otherwise.
A howl echoed faintly from the distant slopes. Content. Controlled.
Good.
"Alpha," Luc said quietly behind me.
I didn't turn. "Report."
"Two arrivals were delayed by the storm. No issues so far. Guests are settling in." There was a brief pause. "Hunter's table is...tense."
My jaw tightened. "How so?"
Luc hesitated. "He's distracted. Guarded. She isn't."
I exhaled through my nose. Humans and their messes.
"Keep an eye on it."
"Already on it."
When Luc left, I stayed, letting the cold sharpen my mind. The mountain felt restless tonight. Not dangerous. Just...alert.
Then it hit me.
A scent. Warm and unexpected. Threading through the cold air like a blade.
I stilled.
It wasn't fear. Not lust, either. This was something else entirely. Clean, grounded, edged with strength. Coffee, ink, and skin warmed by fire. It slid beneath my awareness before I could stop it, settling low in my chest.
Frowning, I turned.
That wasn't possible.
Scanning the tables below, I let my instincts stretch out. Hundreds of human scents layered over one another. Perfume, wool, wine, sugar. But one stood apart. Clearer.
Dangerous.
Mate bonds didn't whisper. They slammed. They hit like lightning, undeniable and consuming like wild fire.
This wasn't that.
This was...confusing.
Clenching my hands into fists, I forced control. I forced myself to breathe. The moon always sharpened our senses. Heightened our perception. That's all this was. Nothing more.
Movement near the far window caught my attention. A woman stood alone just inside the windows. Candlelight caught her dark hair. She was still, watching the storm rather than the room. Her posture was tight with awareness. Not frightened. Just assessing.
Interesting.
Our eyes met for a brief second.
The connection snapped. Sudden and sharp, enough to steal my breath.
Her gaze held mine without flinching. Intelligent. Wary. Like she was already braced for disappointment. I hated it. I hated her looking like that. Looking at me like that.
Something in my chest shifted.
I watched her tilt her head away, the candlelight catching her dark hair spilling across one shoulder. Her movements were precise, deliberate. A subtleness in her posture that hinted at confidence, but there was caution there too. As if she were constantly assessing the surrounding space. Every instinct in my body prickled. Wolves were attuned to danger, to intentions, to bond potential. She had all three, and none of them made sense.
I forced myself to take a breath and step back. This wasn't the moon calling. This wasn't a mate bond. It was curiosity. Confusion. Something I didn't want to name.
Still, I couldn't stop.
I watched as a man approached her and she laughed at what he said. Her eyes flicked toward him, then darted to the staff, scanning the room. Scanning everything. And yet...she stayed calm. Calculated. Curious but not reckless. That's hwen I noticed the tiny twitch in her hand as it held the stem of her glass.
She fascinated me. Irritated me. Distracted me.
Then, a ripple of tension surged through the pack bond, dragging my attention away.
Alpha.
I turned as the call came again. More urgent now. Pack business came first. Always first.
By the time I dealt with the issue—a young wolf pushing his limits too close to human spaces — the woman was gone.
But her scent lingered.
Damn it.
I paced my officer, irritation coiling tight beneath my skin. I hated unknowns. Hated distractions. Especially this close to the full moon.
Mate bonds were powerful. Clear.
This wasn't clear.
Which meant it was nothing.
I stopped, bracing my hands against the desk, grounding myself in the weight of the responsibility. Responsibility had been placed on me too soon. Too weighted. These guests trusted Valombreuse with their safety. My pack trusted me.
Whatever that was...whoever she was, it would wait.
I ran a hand through my dark hair, eyes narrowing. The mountain and lodge had me control, patience, and discipline. I would not let one human disrupt that. I would not let anyone distract me from my duty.
Still, my instincts had noticed her. And my instincts rarely, if ever, failed me.
The moon climbed higher, bright and unyielding. Silver light cast itself across the snow and the stones.
I checked the perimeter. The storm outside had grown again. It was almost unnatural, in every sense of the word, the snow thick and swirling like a ballet dancer. Guests were inside, warm and oblivious.
When I hit the foyer, I saw her again. She ran, dark hair flying, dress swishing at her knees. Her boots slipped on the marble floor, but she didn't slow.
I moved instinctively, muscles coiled, stepping towards her. She was crying. Tears streaked down her face, mascara smudging, breaths coming in ragged gasps.
"Please! Someone...anyone! A car! I need a car out of here!"
Her voice cut through the air, sharp and raw. Vulnerable. Angry. Terrified.
I didn't hesitate.
"Stop!" I called, my voice carrying. "I can help."
She froze, mid-step, head snapping to look at me. Panic and recognition lit up her eyes. But she didn't move away. Not immediately.
I made my way to her, my long legs eating up the distance. My eyes never left hers. My mind cataloged every detail. The flare of her nostrils, the trembling of her hands, the way her shoulders hunched as if to shield herself from a storm she couldn't see.
When I reached her, she was clutching her coat tight around herself. I stopped just before her, letting her see that I wasn't a threat. Letting her take a breath.
"Easy," I said, voice low and calm. "I'll get you out of here. You're safe."
She shook her head. "No! They-they can't...I just...I need-"
She swallowed, tears still pouring down her face, and finally looking at me properly. And for the first time in a long time, I felt the weight of the storm. Not the one raging outside. But the one inside her, the chaos she carried.
And I knew then, that this holiday season was going to be far more complicated than I had planned.
- Writer
