Page 28 of A Cursed Noel

My focus wanders aroundthe area of snow and dense brush we linger in. Just down a glenlittered with garbage, a small herd of deer gathers beneath thetrees. They take off when they spot us, their instincts to livewarning them to run.

They’re adult andgood-sized deer. Odd, considering there’s no real place for them togrow and thrive. This is no forest. Not like home. Not like thewilderness generations of my family grew up in.

The dirty scent ofleftover exhaust creeps through the line of trees and the nearestcross-section remains only a few yards ahead. This isn’t a realplace for deer orweresto roam. Is it a wonder the local packis so screwed up and removed from what it truly means to be awere?

I was too young toremember my first venture across the mountain I was raised on, just awolf pup two months of age. My beast, though, remembers it well. Dadled, his huge wolf form paving the way through the forest floorswathed with stone and bark.

I followed behind asfast as my paws could carry me, stumbling through the thicket andtripping over anything I couldn’t plow through. I raced after Dad,certain I could match his speed and run beside him. I wasn’tafraid. Not with my father ahead, his tongue lolling with humor as Iclumsily followed.

“Aric?”

“Not now, okay?” Isay.

I can’t look at Celiaright now. Someone as beautiful as she doesn’t belong amidst a wolfas bitter as me. The wickedness I never thought myself capable ofsaturates the air as viciously as the cold. I can feel it. I don’twant her to feel it, too.

With more care thanstrength, she intertwines her fingers through mine and sets my handsbetween her breasts. Her heart beats against my knuckles and heraroma of water misting over stones pushes away the hate.

I take in the warmtheach sweet touch of her skin awakens, drinking it in despite that Istill can’t meet her gaze. I know what’s coming, and with Celiabeside me, my truth stings so much more. I can’t shield myself frommy torment. Celia takes the rage I armed myself with and breaks itoff in pieces. I’m no match against her.

“Aric,” she saysquietly. “Did something happen to your Dad?”

My jaw clenches tight,the muscles alongside them stiff and unyielding.

“My love, please tellme what happened?”

Her love. Yeah, sure.Until she knows the monster I’ve become.

“He’s dead, allright?” I huff. “And in my time, my mother’s just about readyto join him.”

Celia gathers her thinarms around me, her voice breaking. “Oh, Aric, I’m so sorry.”

It’s all she says andit’s enough. She doesn’t need to tell me shit like, buck up, yourpeople are counting on you, or remind me of the big shoes I now mustfill, or that my father doesn’t need my sorrow, the world needs mystrength. “Your destiny awaits. Show them what you’re made of,boy.” That’s the kind of idiocies my kind threw at me. There wereexpectations of me to just snap out of it and move on—that myuniquechangeoccurred for a reason, and it was time tofulfill my destiny.

Bastards. All of them.All the alphas who worried what would happen without the great AidanConnor to guide them expected me to just swoop in and take his place.Every last one demanded I demonstrate leadership and knowledge beyondmy years. Even my friends who constantly reminded me how awesome myfather was, stood back waiting for me to become something no onecould ever be ready to become.

I was only fifteen,damn it.

Yet no one would allowme to grieve for the hero and the man I called Dad.

Celia does. She weepsagainst my chest, joining me in the grief I was for so long denied.

I curse and hold herclose. I curse some more and hold her tighter. I don’t mean forthose tears to escape like they do. Except this little thing in myarms is all it takes, her heart and love my undoing.

“I’ve messed up,Celia,” I confess. “I’ve pulled some shit I never thought I’dbe capable of.”

The breeze picks up,dropping clumps of snow from the surrounding trees. Celia lifts herchin to better see me. She spares me from the “you could never doanything wrong” and the “everyone makes mistakes” bullshit.

She maintains her hold,something in my expression crinkling her brow with worry. “Whathave you done?”

The truth sharpens myvoice. “You don’t want to know,” I reply.

Her voice splinters. “Iwant to know everything about you. All the good and the bad.”

“I don’t want….”I spit out another row of curses. Celia couldn’t handle whathappened to Roz. It was too barbaric for onewereto do thatto his packmate. “I don’t want you to think less of me.” Ishake my head. “I couldn’t handle it. Not from you.”

“Aric, you knoweverything I’ve done.” Her tears fade away, replaced by memoriesfar worse than she deserves. “Those I murdered stain my soul withblood. No matter how much good I’ll do in life, I’ll never beabsolved from my deeds.”

“That wasn’tmurder,” I tell her sternly. “Thatwas justice.”

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