Page 29 of A Cursed Noel

“You call itjustice,” she says. “Maybe it was. That doesn’t erase the fearof knowing how easily I can kill, and the ruthlessness I’m capableof.”

I capture her mouthwith mine. It’s a slow kiss despite our rush, as loving and perfectas the woman I share it with. “Your humanity far surpasses yoursavagery, and your compassion vanquishes the cruelty you think youinflicted.” I kiss her again. “Those you hunted, preyed oninnocents and wreaked enough harm for a thousand lifetimes. Theydidn’t deserve your mercy, just as you didn’t deserve theirviolence.”

She smiles despite thetears that sparkle in the moonlight. “You know my past so well, andstill you stand by me.”

I frown. “I love you.I’ll always stand by you.”

There’re those tearsagain despite her delicate smile. “And I’ll love and stand byyou, no matter what.”

Knowing her heart aswell as I do, I shouldn’t believe her. Not with what I must nowshare. Yet, I begin from the beginning even though my wolf warnsagainst it. He’s afraid to lose her, too. But hiding things fromher is another form of lying. Lies between me and Celia are sins mybeast and I won’t allow.

“I avenged myfather,” I say. “I tracked the witch responsible for his deathand made her pay.”

Celia’s eyes widen.“If she killed your father, she was strong enough to kill you.”

“You’re right,” Iagree. “And she almost did.”

Celia’s fear is aspalpable as if I stood before the witch like I did then. It soundscrazy. I mean, I made it after all. But I guess that’s what loveis. Fearing for someone just because of what could happen.

“It started there,and it should have ended there. But it’s like once I drew firstblood, I couldn’t stop.” I try to shrug it off, but it’s ahalf-assessed attempt at best.

“You liked the tasteof it?”

Of killing, she means.“I did,” I confess.

“My tigress did,too,” she admits. “It’s one of the reasons I couldn’t stop.”She glances down, her shame replacing her fear. “I couldn’t stopher from hunting.”

Even when it became toomuch for her human half.

“That’s where we’redifferent,” I carefully explain. “I didn’t want to stop andneither did my wolf. I went after anything and everything linked tothe witch—wereswho had protected her, men who had suppliedher with sacrifices, even women who expanded the witch’s reign byenticing males to join her.”

“Why would so manycollaborate with someone so heartless?” Celia asks when I quiet.

“Money, protection,and power,” I answer. I hold her closer, trying to shield her fromthe cold and truth. “It’s a poor nation. These people tire ofgoing hungry and living in fear. It’s easy for them to turn theirbacks on what’s right when they can have so much more.”

“I could never dothat,” Celia says. “I’ve been poor, I’ve gone hungry. But Icould never help her destroy so many lives.”

“I told myself thesame thing,” I admit. “It’s what drove me to kill and what keptme going.”

Celia rises on her toesto press a kiss against my cheek. It’s only because I’m curledaround her that she even reaches me. “I don’t understand,” shesays. “From what you say, these beings are those you’re supposedto protect innocents from.”

“They are,” I agreeslowly.

Her misery breaks free.“Then why does your soul feel so broken?”

Damn if she doesn’tnail it. The truth spills out before I can stop it. I bite out eachword, telling Celia everything I’ve kept to myself. “I didn’tdo this for the world. I did it for me. I enjoyed the hunt—findingmy prey cowering in shadows, fighting to the death when there washardly any fight in me. I shed all that blood for me.” Her eyeswiden but her reaction only forces me to keep going. “I didn’tjust kill them. I hurt them. I inflicted as much pain as I could inthe moments before they died. I imposed my dominance and forced mystrength down their throats until they choked on it.”

Celia listens intently,barely doing more than blinking away the tears that form. “That’snot what alphas are supposed to do. Not the kind of alpha my fatherraised me to be.” I shudder except it’s not from the cold. “Withevery kill, I became someone I didn’t recognize. There was nomercy, Celia. There was no desire to bring them before trial. Inumbed myself from all the violence—no, Ibaskedin it. Eachtime I stopped my prey’s heart from beating, I became alive, notthe walking dead I had become. The more I massacred, the more Ithrived.”

My breaths are harsh. Iwait, in the silence that follows for the hatchet to fall and forCelia to leave me.

“No,” she sayssimply.

“No?” I ask.“Didn’t you hear me? I was—hell,I am, out of control. Ionly lived when I killed.”

“If that were true,you would have killed all theweresin Odin’s pack.” Hergaze implores me to listen even as I fight not to. “You told mecursed gold bullets are so lethal, they can explode awere’sheart.”

“They can,” Iagree.

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