Alpha's Christmas Mate

Whispers from the Past

The cabin was quiet, the kind of silence that pressed softly against the walls. Holly sat cross-legged on the floor, the leather notebook open in her lap. Her fingers traced the fragile pages, hesitant and curious at the same time. Every word she read made her heartbeat quicken—her grandmother’s careful observations of the woods, the strange mentions of wolves, and hints that some hidden power had always lingered near the cabin.

Rowan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her. He had not moved since entering, giving her space—but the tension radiating off him was palpable. Every now and then, Asher nudged at his instincts, urging him forward, urging him to speak, to protect, to claim. Rowan resisted the push, because he knew some truths could not yet be shared.

“You’re reading it again,” he said quietly.

Holly looked up, startled by his voice. “I… I need to understand. She wrote all of this… she mentions wolves, and… and a boy with green eyes. Rowan, did she mean you?”

He stiffened, jaw tightening. “Not exactly. She saw something in the woods. Something she didn’t fully understand. I wasn’t involved. Not then.”

Holly’s brow furrowed. “But she knew about… things that happened here. Things about the woods. And the wolves. She even mentions a girl she needed to protect.”

Rowan’s eyes darkened slightly. “Holly, the notebook isn’t meant for human eyes.”

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the leather cover. “I’m human, yes. But I lived here. I grew up here. I deserve to know what she knew.”

The words hung in the air. Asher’s presence throbbed through Rowan like heat in his blood. MATE MUST KNOW. SHE MUST.

Rowan clenched his fists, forcing the wolf back. “Not everything. Some knowledge… it can’t be unlearned.”

Holly’s pulse picked up. “Why? What is it you’re not telling me?”

He shook his head, leaning away from the urge to reveal too much. “It’s complicated. And it’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Holly’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Rowan… I can handle it. I’m not a child.”

Rowan’s gaze flicked to the window, to the edge of the treeline. Holly followed his eyes.

A gray-and-white shape crouched among the pines. The rogue wolf. Its muscles tensed, ears flicking, observing them with unblinking intent. It wasn’t moving closer yet, but it didn’t seem to fear Rowan either.

Holly’s stomach dropped. “The wolf… it’s still here.”

“Yes.” His voice was calm, but every line of his body betrayed his tension. “It’s a rogue. Not part of our pack. Curious. Territorial. I don’t know its intent yet.”

Holly shivered. “Should we…?”

“No,” Rowan interrupted. “Stay close. Don’t leave the cabin. If it wants to cause trouble, I’ll handle it.”

Holly’s fingers stayed on the notebook. She hesitated, then turned another page. Her grandmother’s entries grew darker, more urgent. There were mentions of pack hierarchies, unusual behaviors in wolves, and cryptic warnings about bonds—about mates.

She paused at a line that made her stomach twist:

Entry, December 20th:

"The bond is not always visible to human eyes. It can be felt, it can be seen, but it is rarely understood. Fate will align the Alpha and the mate, whether they recognize it or not. Protect her from what draws near. She will not see the danger until it is close."

Holly’s eyes widened. “Rowan… the bond…” Her voice faltered. “She knew about this… about the Alpha and the mate?”

Rowan’s jaw clenched. He moved closer, instinctively, but stopped himself short, a few steps away. Asher tugged at the edges of his restraint, urging him to step forward, to claim, to protect. Rowan swallowed, forcing control.

“It’s not something I can explain yet,” he said, low, careful. “Some things… you have to experience to understand. And right now… you’re not ready for all of it.”

Holly’s hand trembled slightly as she closed the notebook. “I don’t know if I can wait. I feel… like I’m already part of it. Like I was always meant to be.”

Rowan’s chest tightened. Asher growled softly within him, pushing, pulling at the edge of his control. SHE KNOWS. SHE FEELS IT. CLAIM HER.

Rowan’s hand twitched. “Holly, the rogue… it’s moving closer.”

Holly’s gaze shot to the treeline. The wolf had stepped forward, pawing lightly at the snow. It wasn’t aggressive, but its focus on the cabin—and on them—was undeniable.

Rowan’s protective instincts flared. He moved to position himself between Holly and the wolf, body rigid, eyes scanning the shadows. Asher stirred, rippling beneath his skin, pressing toward the front of his consciousness.

Holly noticed the subtle change. “Rowan…” Her voice was softer now, curiosity tempered by awe. “You… you’re not like other humans.”

Rowan’s throat tightened. He wanted to deny it. Wanted to insist he was just a man, nothing more. But Asher’s presence was too strong, too insistent. His instincts—his wolf—demanded truth without revealing everything.

“I’m… different,” he admitted, voice low. “And yes, that includes the way I handle threats. I’m not entirely human.”

Holly’s eyes widened. “Not entirely human…”

“Yes.” He exhaled sharply, glancing at the rogue wolf. “But I will protect you. From everything. That includes them.”

Holly’s pulse raced. The notebook, the wolf, Rowan’s intensity—it was too much all at once. And yet, she didn’t step back. Something deep inside told her she was meant to stay.

The rogue wolf shifted again, low growl rumbling through its chest. Rowan’s muscles tensed. Asher whispered fiercely beneath his control.

Claim her. Protect her. Make her yours.

Rowan closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, fighting the urge. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—push too far. Not yet.

But Holly saw it in the flare of his eyes, in the way his jaw flexed, in the quiet strength he radiated.

She understood, in that moment, more than she should. More than she wanted to. Rowan was dangerous. Not just to others—but to herself. And yet, she didn’t want to run.

The rogue wolf finally retreated, melting back into the woods as silently as it had appeared. Holly exhaled, tension draining slightly from her shoulders, though she remained close to Rowan.

He lowered his gaze, voice soft. “You’re safe.”

Holly looked at him, notebook pressed to her chest. “I feel like I’ve just stepped into something much bigger than I imagined.”

He didn’t reply immediately. He simply reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. The touch was brief, careful—but the warmth radiating from him made Holly shiver.

“Whatever comes next,” he said finally, “you won’t face it alone.”

And for the first time, Holly believed him.

The snow continued to fall outside, covering the ground in a blanket of white. Inside, the cabin felt smaller, warmer, and somehow infinitely more dangerous. Holly held her grandmother’s notebook closer, Rowan’s presence beside her, and she realized that whatever secrets the pages held, she was no longer alone in facing them.

The bond was waiting, slow and inevitable. And so were the challenges.