Claimed By The Winter Alpha

Day 1

~Snow~

I woke to the sound of wind howling against the windows, rattling the glass in its frame like it was trying to claw its way inside.

I opened my eyes slowly and my gaze landing on the gold-trimmed canopy—the crown jewel of the opulent four-poster bed.

I sat up carefully, testing my injured arm. The sharp, burning pain from yesterday had dulled to a manageable ache. When I peeled back the bandage slightly, the wound looked better and less inflamed. Whatever Dr. Celeste had given me was working faster than it should.

The clock on the nightstand read 9:47 AM. I’d slept longer than I intended, probably thanks to the pain medication.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and immediately noticed the fireplace. It was lit which filled the room with warmth that pushed back against the cold trying to seep through the windows. I definitely hadn't lit it. Which meant someone had come in while I was sleeping.

Storm, probably.

The thought should have made me uncomfortable—a strange man entering my room while I slept. But instead, I felt... cared for and protected.

I walked to the window and pulled back the heavy curtain. Snow fell in thick, blown sideways by violent gusts of wind. The trees bent under the assault, and I could barely see twenty feet beyond the glass. The storm that had supposedly "reduced" last night had returned stronger and angrier.

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, my breath fogging it up.

Were my parents worried? Did they even know I was missing yet? Bianca and Jackson had probably already spun some story—that I'd decided to stay at the resort longer, or that I'd gone skiing despite the storm warnings. They'd buy themselves time before raising the alarm.

My phone was still at the resort. I'd left it behind when I ran together with my other belongings, and now it was probably buried under snow or smashed to pieces. Even if I had it, would there be any signal?

I missed my parents. My father's gruff encouragement. My mother's gentle laugh. Our tradition of decorating the tree together while drinking hot chocolate and arguing over which Christmas movie to watch.

Christmas was in four days. Would I even make it home in time?

A knock at the door dragged me away from my thoughts.

“Come in,” I called.

A young woman entered, carrying a tray. She had warm brown eyes and dark hair pulled into a ponytail. She smiled when she saw me.

“Good morning, Miss Castellano. I’m Yuri, one of the house staff. Alpha Storm asked me to bring you breakfast.”

She set the tray on the small table near the fireplace. I walked over and lifted the silver dome. Underneath was a spread that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel—fresh berries that had no business being this perfect in the middle of winter, fluffy scrambled eggs, golden toast, and coffee that smelled like heaven.

"Thank you," I said, genuinely touched. "And please, just call me Snow.”

Yuri’s smile widened. “Snow it is. How’s your arm feeling?”

“Better,” I admitted. “Much better than I expected.”

“Dr. Celeste is the best," Yuri said with obvious pride. She moved to the fireplace and added another log, adjusting it until the flames caught. "The blizzard's supposed to last through tonight, maybe into tomorrow. Alpha Storm wanted to make sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed.”

“He's very..." I paused, searching for the right word. Attentive? Protective? Confusing? "...thoughtful.”

“He's a good alpha," Yuri said simply, like it was the most obvious truth in the world. "The best we've had in generations. If you need anything at all, just pick up that phone." She pointed to an antique-looking telephone on the bedside table. "Someone will come right away."

"Yuri, wait," I called as she turned to leave.

She glanced back. "Yes?"

"That phone... can I use it to call someone? Outside the compound, I mean. My parents must be worried sick.”

Her expression turned apologetic. "I'm sorry, it's only connected within the house. Internal lines only. But if you need to make a call, you should ask Alpha Storm. He'll let you use his phone."

"Thank you.”

When she left, I sat down to eat. The food was incredible—perfectly seasoned, still hot, clearly made with care. I devoured it faster than was probably polite, realizing I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten. Certainly not before the flight to the resort. I had been too nervous about the presentation to stomach anything.

After breakfast, I showered, carefully keeping my bandaged arm out of the water. The bathroom was absurdly luxurious—marble everything, a soaking tub big enough for three people, a shower with so many jets I wasn't sure which ones to turn on.

Someone had left fresh clothes for me. Not just one outfit, but an entire wardrobe. Jeans in multiple washes. Sweaters in different colors and styles. Even undergarments, all perfectly my size.

I stood there staring at the closet for a long moment. How did Storm know my size? It was too accurate to be a guess. Had he... measured me while I was unconscious? No, that felt invasive even by werewolf standards. Maybe Dr. Celeste had estimated?

I pushed the unsettling thought aside and dressed in dark jeans and a cream-colored sweater that was softer than anything I owned.

Then I made a decision: I couldn't stay locked in this room for four days. I'd go insane.

The hallway was quiet except for the storm outside. I walked slowly, noticing details I’d missed last night. Oil paintings, antique vases, framed photographs of wolves running through snowy forests.

I found the stairs and descended to the main floor. The foyer looked different in daylight—still grand, but somehow warmer.

A massive Christmas tree stood in the corner, and I stopped in surprise.

A man and woman were decorating it with ornaments and stringing lights.

“Oh,” the man said when he noticed me. “Good morning. You must be Alpha Storm’s guest.”

“Snow,” I said, stepping forward.

“Jason,” he introduced himself, then gestured to his companion. “This is Leah.”

“We’re getting ready for Christmas,” Leah explained, hanging a silver ornament. “Alpha Storm likes the mansion decorated, even during blizzards.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said honestly. The tree was enormous—at least twelve feet tall. The shimmering hand-blown glass ornaments looked antique.

“Want to help?” Leah asked with a smile. “We have more ornaments than we know what to do with.”

I hesitated. Should I? I was a guest here, an outsider. But the genuine warmth in their expressions made the decision for me.

“Sure.” I replied.

For the next hour, I lost myself in the pleasure of decorating. Jason and Leah were easy to talk to, asking about my work as an architect and sharing stories about past Christmases in the Winter Pack. They carefully avoided asking why I was here or what had happened to my arm, and I was grateful for their discretion.

When we finally stepped back to admire the finished tree, I felt lighter than I had in days.

"Perfect," Leah declared. "Alpha Storm's going to love it."

"Does he really care that much about Christmas decorations?" I asked, unable to picture the intense, serious man I'd met caring about ornament placement.

Jason and Leah exchanged a look.

"He does," Jason said quietly.

When the tree was finished, I wondered where Storm was. Was he avoiding me? Busy with that alpha who'd visited last night? Or was he regretting saving me, wishing he'd left me on that cliff?

I walked away from the living room and found myself in what looked like an office. A lean man with sharp eyes was reviewing documents at a large desk.

“Hi,” I said, knocking softly.

He looked up and smiled warmly. “Snow. How are you feeling?”

He even knew my name. He must be close to Storm.

“Better,” I said. “My arm still hurts, though.”

“Good. Celeste will want to check it later.” He set down his papers. “I’m Karl—Storm’s Beta. What can I do for you?”

Beta. Second in command. That explained the air of authority.

“I was wondering…” I hesitated, suddenly feeling foolish. “Where’s Storm? I haven’t seen him.”

Karl's expression softened. "He's in his room. Had a very late night dealing with Alpha Marcus and pack business. He's probably catching up on sleep. Or drowning in paperwork, knowing him."

"Oh." I felt like an i***t for bothering him. "I don't want to disturb him then.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” Karl assured. “His room is at the end of the hall. Second floor. Just the opposite end from yours.”

I thanked him and headed upstairs, my heart beating faster than it should.

Why was I looking for him? What would I even say?

I turned toward my room…but stopped halfway, then turned back toward his.

I just wanted to thank him properly. And ask about borrowing his phone to call my parents.

That was all.

I walked slowly, giving myself plenty of time to change my mind. But my feet kept moving until I was standing in front of a heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor.

I raised my hand to knock, hesitated, then knocked three times.

No answer.

I waited, counting to thirty in my head, then knocked again. "Storm? It's Snow.”

Maybe he was sleeping. I should leave. But something made me try the handle.

It turned.

"Storm?" I called, pushing the door open slightly. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to—”

The words died in my throat.

Storm stood in the middle of the room, clearly fresh from the shower. Water droplets clung to his dark hair, sliding down his neck, trailing over impossibly broad shoulders, down a chest carved with muscle and scattered with scars that told stories I'd never hear.

He wore a towel. Just a towel that was slung dangerously low on narrow hips.

He turned toward me, and our eyes met.

And at that moment, time seemed to have stopped.