Page 37 of Christmas with a Cursed Werewolf

Darkness swallows me whole, but Ronan's voice cuts through like a beacon. His words reach across the void, each one laced with such raw anguish it makes my soul ache. The space between life and death feels vast and empty, yet somehow suffocating. Cold seeps into my essence, not just physical cold but something deeper—the kind that threatens to freeze my very soul.

"Stay with me, moya lyubov."

His voice breaks on the words, and the pain in it pierces me like a physical wound. I try to respond, to tell him I'm fighting my way back, but my voice is lost in the endless dark. His grief washes over me in waves—tears falling on my face, desperate pleas echoing in my mind. Each drop feels like fire against my skin, a stark contrast to the curse's poison spreading through my veins like ice, pulling me further from him with each passing second.

The darkness pulses around me, alive with malevolent intent. Shadows whisper with Rurik's voice, taunting me with promises of eternal separation. The curse's magic tries to convince me to let go, to drift away into peaceful oblivion.But Ronan's presence anchors me, his love a tether I refuse to release.

"Please." His broken whisper tears at my heart, the sound so unlike his usual strength. "Take me instead. I'll give you anything."

No, I want to scream, the word burning in my throat.Don't sacrifice yourself. Not for me.But the darkness is too thick, too heavy. I can't break free. My attempts to reach him feel like swimming through tar, each movement draining what little strength I have left.

Light blooms suddenly in the void—soft at first, like the first rays of dawn, then blazing bright enough to pierce the shadows. It brings warmth with it, ancient and powerful, pushing back the curse's chill. A figure emerges, tall and radiant, her presence filling the space with magic so pure it makes my soul sing in recognition. The Goddess. I know her immediately, though I've never seen her before. She emanates the kind of power that birthed the Nexus itself, that shaped worlds and bound realms together.

Her form shifts constantly, sometimes appearing as a woman of impossible beauty, other times as pure light given consciousness. The air around her sparkles with possibilities—all the paths a life might take, all the choices that lead to destiny.

"Child." Her voice resonates through my very being, each syllable carrying echoes of ancient power. The sound ripples through the void, making the darkness retreat further. "You hover between worlds."

"I need to get back to him." The words finally break free, urgent and raw. My entire being strains toward where I can feel Ronan's presence. "Please. He's suffering." Through our bond, I feel his pain like physical wounds—each sob, each plea cutting deeper than any blade.

"The wolf who bears my curse?" There's something in her tone I can't quite read—curiosity, perhaps, or judgment. Golden light swirls around her form as she studies me. "He offers his soul for yours. Such a price, freely given."

"Because he loves me." I push against the darkness holding me in place, feeling it resist like thick chains. Memories flash through my mind—Ronan's silver eyes softening when he looks at me, his gentle touch despite his strength, the way he says my name like a prayer. "And I love him. Please, I'll do anything?—"

"Anything?" She steps closer, her form shifting like starlight on water. The air crackles with power around her, making my skin tingle. "You would bind yourself to a cursed man? Take on his darkness, his pain? Share his battles?"

"He's not dark." The words burst from me with surprising force, carrying all my conviction. "He's good and loyal and brave. The curse doesn't define him." I think of how he protects his pack, how he fought against his own brother to save us all. "It never has."

Another figure materializes beside the Goddess—a woman with features that seem to flicker between human and something else entirely. Magic radiates from her in familiar pulses, warming me like the library's hearth on a cold night. Her presence feels like home, like all the quiet moments I've spent in Frostspire Keep's halls.

"Arcanum," I breathe, recognizing the spirit of Frostspire Keep. The castle's magic sings through my blood, recognizing its source.

She smiles, and in that expression I see centuries of watching, waiting, hoping. Her form shimmers with the same magic that flows through the castle's stones, that drew me to the library time and time again. "You know me."

"Of course I do." Tears spill down my cheeks, warm against the void's chill. "You've been trying to help us all along, haven'tyou? Leading me to the right books, showing me the way..." All those moments when I felt guided, when doors opened or closed, when exactly the right tome fell into my hands—it was her, watching over us, hoping we'd find our way to each other.

Arcanum steps forward, taking my hands in hers. Her touch feels like coming home—warm and familiar, yet crackling with ancient power. Magic surges between us, and I see flashes of the castle through her eyes—centuries of watching over its inhabitants, the pain of seeing it cursed, and then the hope that sparked when I first crossed the threshold.

"I knew from the moment you crossed the threshold. You were meant to be here, Briar. Meant for him." Her voice carries the weight of ages, of countless stories witnessed and kept safe within the castle's walls.

Through our joined hands, I feel the castle's magic pulse. Memories flood my mind—every moment I've spent with Ronan, every touch, every look. The way his silver eyes soften when he thinks I'm not watching. The gentle way he holds me, as if I'm something precious he fears might break. The strength in his arms when he pulls me close, contrasting with the tenderness in his touch.

His voice reaches me again, thick with tears. "I'll bring you Rurik. I'll deliver my brother to the Council myself. His experiments, his corruption—all of it ends. Just save her."

The raw desperation in his words makes my heart clench. I feel his agony through our bond, the way he's willing to tear his own heart out to save me.

"He would give up his own brother?" The Goddess's light flares, filling the void with golden radiance. Power ripples through the air, testing, measuring. "For you?"

"Because it's right," I say firmly, standing straighter despite the darkness still trying to pull me down. "Rurik's darkness threatens everything—the castle, the pack, the balance itself.Ronan sees that now. He's chosen love over blind loyalty." Pride fills my voice. "He's chosen to protect what matters most."

The Goddess circles me, her presence both terrifying and beautiful. Each step leaves trails of starlight in the void, and the air thrums with power. "And you, child? What would you choose?"

"I choose him." The words come without hesitation, ringing with truth. "In any form, under any curse. I choose us." Magic surges through me with the declaration, warming my blood, fighting back the curse's poison.

"Even knowing the price?" Her voice sharpens like winter wind. "The darkness that follows him? The enemies he's made? The battles yet to come?"

"Especially then." I lift my chin, meeting her ethereal gaze. Golden light reflects in her eyes like distant galaxies. "He's carried these burdens alone for too long. Let me help him bear them." Through our bond, I feel another wave of Ronan's anguish, and my resolve strengthens. "Let me be his strength, as he's been mine."

A sound like distant thunder rolls through the void. The Goddess's form brightens until she's almost painful to look at, her power filling every corner of this between-space. "You speak of love so easily. But do you understand what it means to love a man like Ronan Wolfe? A beast who walks in two worlds?"

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