The Alpha's Naughty Christmas

9: Hot Chocolate and Cold Hard Truths

Zolani’s POV

The balcony off my new room was f*****g magical...wide enough for a party, stone railings carved with wolves mid-howl, and a view that punched me straight in the soul.

Snow-capped mountains stretched out forever under a sky bruised purple and gold with twilight, pines blanketed white like someone had dumped confectioners’ sugar over the whole damn world.

The cold bit my cheeks, sharp and clean, but it felt good, real, grounding, like the universe was trying to slap some sense into me after the day I’d had.

I leaned on the railing, silk robe pulled tight around me, bare feet numb on the heated stone floor... because of course the Blackthornes had heated balconies, they probably had heated toilet seats shaped like thrones.

For the first time since landing, I smiled without forcing it. This view was the best. Pure, untouchable beauty. No blood. No dead bodies. No six-foot-six Alphas looking at me like they wanted to eat me alive or pin me down and...

The door behind me clicked open.

Aradia stepped out, holding two steaming mugs that smelled like heaven had a chocolate orgasm.

She kicked the door shut with her heel, padded over in mismatched socks and an oversized hoodie that definitely belonged to one of her mates, and handed me one.

“Hot chocolate, extra marshmallows, splash of Bailey’s because we’re adults and Jesus isn’t watching this close,” she announced, bumping my shoulder with hers. “Figured you’d be out here freezing your t**s off for the aesthetic.”

I took the mug gratefully, wrapping both hands around it, letting the heat seep into my skin. “It’s worth the hypothermia. This view is insane.”

“Right?” She leaned beside me, boots kicked up on the lower rail, curls whipping in the wind.

“Dad had this wing built facing the mountains on purpose. Says it reminds him who’s really in charge...nature, not politics. Deep, huh? For a guy who solves problems with daggers.”

I choked on my sip. “Yeah. Deep.”

She side-eyed me, sharp as ever. “Speaking of daggers… you okay after walking in on the whole murder cleanup thing? I heard you got the full Blackthorne welcome package.”

I stared into my mug like it held the answers. “I’m… processing. He said the guy was stealing from my suitcase.”

Aradia snorted. “Stealing. Sure. Let’s go with that.” She took a long drink, then grinned wickedly. “Between you and me, the guy probably sniffed your panties one too many times. The others told me he was killed because he was caught using your panties to jerk off. Dad’s weirdly territorial about house guests. Especially cute little ones.”

My face exploded with heat. “Aradia!”

“What? It’s true. He’s been in a mood since you confirmed you were coming. Growling at everyone, snapping necks...literal necks over nothing. I thought it was wedding stress, but now…” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Maybe it’s virgin stress.”

I elbowed her hard. “Shut up.”

She laughed, loud and free, the sound echoing off the mountains. “Relax, Zee. I’m teasing.” She sobered a little, bumping my shoulder again. “But seriously...if anyone gives you s**t, even Dad, you tell me. I’ll rip balls off and make earrings. You’re pack while you’re here. My pack.”

The warmth in my chest had nothing to do with the Bailey’s. Werewolves were insane, but their love was a wildfire, destructive, all-consuming, and impossible to fake.

I bumped her back. “Love you, you psycho.”

“Love you more, virgin queen.” She clinked her mug against mine. “Now drink up. Tomorrow we’re doing dress fittings, and I need you drunk enough to tell me if my ass looks fat in lace.”

We drank in comfortable silence for a minute, snow falling soft around us, the mountains glowing under moonlight.

Then Aradia, because she could never leave well enough alone, leaned in conspiratorially.

“So… Jack’s still asking about you. Says your scent’s been driving him crazy since you landed. Wants to know if you’re open to a little holiday stress relief. No strings. Just tongue.”

I groaned. “Aradia, you know I have a fiancé.”

“Yeah, the saint who won’t even let you sit on his face.” She rolled her eyes. “Live a little, Zee. One orgasm from a wolf and you’ll never go back to missionary with the lights off.”

I laughed despite myself, but the guilt twisted anyway.

She didn’t know the real problem wasn’t Jack.

It was the Alpha who’d killed for my panties and told me to follow his scent.

And somewhere in this lodge, twenty-four hours or not, he was coming back.

I took a long drink of hot chocolate, letting the burn chase away the chill.

Lord, give me strength.

Because if Cassian Blackthorne walked through that door tomorrow, I wasn’t sure whose prayers would be louder... mine for deliverance… or the filthy, desperate ones I’d be moaning when he finally snapped and ruined me for every other man on the planet.

“Your fiancé… you called him?” Aradia asked, tilting her head like she already knew the answer and hated it.

I nodded, staring into my mug like it might sprout answers. “Yeah, but he wasn’t picking up. Probably buried in work.”

She scoffed so hard a marshmallow bounced out of her cup and into the snow.

“No man is too busy for the woman he’s supposed to marry, Zee. That’s human bullshit. You should’ve dragged his vanilla ass here by the balls. I’d personally teach him how to love you right, body and soul. Start with eating you out until you forget your own name, move on to knotting lessons with a strap-on if necessary. Hell, I’d supervise.”

I choked on my hot chocolate, coughing as Bailey’s burned the wrong pipe. “Aradia!”

“What?” She shrugged, completely serious. “You’re walking around here smelling like a virgin in heat, and he’s ‘busy with work’? Please. Wolves would burn empires for one night between your thighs. Your boy’s either clueless or scared of p***y. Both are fixable, but not from six thousand miles away.”

I wiped my mouth, cheeks on fire, but I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up, half hysterical, half turned on by the sheer audacity. “You’re insane.”

“Insanely right.” She bumped my hip with hers, eyes glinting under the moonlight. “Look, I love you. You’re pack to me, even if you’re human. And pack takes care of pack. If Evan can’t handle the heat, maybe it’s time you found someone who can set the whole damn forest on fire.”

Her words hit too close. I stared out at the mountains, snow falling thicker now, blanketing everything in silence.

Somewhere down there, Cassian was handling “urgent business”...probably ripping throats or intimidating rivals with a single look. And here I was, robe barely tied, thighs still sticky from earlier, praying for strength I didn’t want.

Aradia sipped her drink, quiet for once, then added softly, “You deserve to be f****d like you’re the only woman in the world, Zee. Not treated like a porcelain doll on a shelf.”

I swallowed hard, throat tight. “I know.”

But what I didn’t say...what I couldn’t say was that the man who made me feel like the only woman in the world was the same one who’d make me beg for mercy on my knees.

Lord, give me strength… or a really good hiding spot.

Because if Aradia knew who I was really aching for, she’d either kill me… or hand me the lube and cheer me on like the world’s most unhinged wingwoman.

Jesus, take the wheel. Preferably before I crash straight into her father’s bed, spread wide and begging for the kind of ruin that comes with fangs and a knot. Amen.

“Come… I’ll tuck you in.” Aradia looped her arm through mine and tugged me back inside, the balcony door swinging shut behind us with a soft thud that felt way too final.

“I’m not a child,” I protested, digging my heels in half-heartedly, but my voice came out more whine than fight.

The hot chocolate and whatever healer magic Lena had slipped me had melted my bones into warm, lazy goo.

“I do it all the time, shut up,” she shot back, dragging me toward the massive four-poster bed like I weighed nothing.

Werewolf strength, unfair as hell. She flipped back the heavy fur duvet with one hand, the other still locked around my wrist. “You’re exhausted, jet-lagged, and probably still traumatized from walking in on Dad’s little redecorating project. Let me mother-hen you for five minutes.”

I rolled my eyes but let her push me down onto the mattress. The sheets were silk and sin, cool against my flushed skin, smelling faintly of pine and something darker that made my c**t twitch like it recognized the owner. Of course they did. Everything in this wing smelled like him.

Aradia kicked off her socks, climbed in beside me fully clothed, and pulled the duvet over both of us like we were twelve again having a sleepover.

Except twelve-year-olds didn’t have best friends who could rip throats out, and they definitely didn’t lie in bed fantasizing about said best friend’s father bending them over the balcony railing while the snow fell.

She propped her head on one hand, studying me with those sharp cute eyes. “Spill, Zee. You’ve been weird since the murder scene. And don’t give me that ‘I’m fine’ Catholic-girl bullshit. I can smell the stress on you. And the horny. Mostly the horny.”

I groaned, pulling a pillow over my face. “Can we not?”

“Nope.” She yanked the pillow away, grinning like a demon. “Talk or I’ll start guessing. Is it Jack? Did he corner you and offer to demonstrate his tongue technique? Or is it the lodge? Too many wolves? Too much meat at dinner making you crave something else?”

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The truth clawed at my throat ... It’s your dad, Ardia. Your scary, gorgeous, murder-happy dad who killed a guy for sniffing my panties and looked at me like he wanted to replace the blood with my c*m all over his hands.

Instead, I mumbled, “Just… culture shock. And Evan not picking up. And the whole ‘human in a wolf den’ thing.”

She softened instantly, scooting closer until her head rested on my shoulder, arm slung over my waist like a living weighted blanket.

“Evan’s an i***t for not answering. And you’re not just a human... you’re my human. Anyone gives you s**t, I’ll handle it.” She paused, voice dropping to a teasing purr. “But if the culture shock is making you horny, I can fix that too. I’ve got toys. Big ones. Knot-shaped. Battery life for days.”

I barked a laugh, shoving her shoulder. “You’re the worst.”

“The best,” she corrected, nuzzling my neck like an oversized puppy. “Now sleep, virgin queen. Told you by tomorrow we’re trying on dresses, and I need you rested so you can tell me if my mates are gonna rip the gown off me at the reception.”

I closed my eyes, letting her warmth chase away the chill, the guilt, the constant throb between my legs.... I'll be fine, I have Aradia and Cas.... no... God... yeah, definitely meant God.