Page 38 of Christmas with a Cursed Werewolf

"I understand that he's not a beast." My voice rises with conviction, carrying all the love and certainty in my heart. "He's a protector. A leader. A man who would sacrifice everything to keep others safe." I take a shaky breath, feeling the truth of my words resonate through my very being. "And yes, he's a wolf too. Fierce and loyal and beautiful. But that's not a curse—it's part of who he is. Who we are together."

Arcanum's grip on my hands tightens as the Goddess's power surges around us. Through our connection, I feel Ronan'sanguish more clearly—his tears falling on my physical form, his desperate bargaining with forces he doesn't fully understand. Each sob feels like a knife in my heart.

"He needs me," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Please. I can feel him slipping into darkness." The bond between us pulses with his pain, his fear, his desperate love.

"As you slip into death?" The Goddess's words cut like ice. Magic swirls around us, making visible the curse's poison flowing through my veins. "You took on his burden willingly."

"And I'd do it again." The truth of it burns in my chest like a star. "A thousand times over."

"Why?" She demands, her light pulsing with each word. The void itself seems to lean in, waiting for my answer. "What makes this cursed wolf worth such sacrifice?"

"Because he would do the same for me. Because he has done the same." My voice grows stronger as memories flood through me—every sacrifice he's made, every moment he's put others before himself. "He took on the original curse to protect his brother. He's spent years isolating himself to keep others safe. And now..." I swallow hard, feeling his tears on my skin even in this spiritual realm. "Now he's offering his soul for mine."

The Goddess moves closer, her presence overwhelming. The air crackles with ancient magic, making my skin tingle. "And what of your own destiny? The powers awakening within you? Would you sacrifice all that for love?"

"My destiny is with him." The certainty of it fills me with warmth, pushing back the void's chill. Magic rises in me, responding to my conviction. "Whatever powers I have, whatever I'm meant to become—it's all connected to Ronan. To Frostspire Keep. To this life we're building together."

Arcanum steps forward, her form solidifying until she looks almost human, though magic still shimmers beneath her skin like starlight. "She speaks truth, my Lady. Their souls werepaired long before they found each other. I felt it the moment she entered the Keep." Her voice carries the weight of centuries, of countless stories witnessed within Frostspire's walls.

The Goddess turns her radiant gaze to Arcanum, power crackling between them like lightning. "You would stake your existence on their love? After what Rurik did to corrupt your magic?"

"Without hesitation." Arcanum's voice rings with conviction, and the void itself seems to resonate with her words. "Ronan is nothing like his brother. And Briar..." She squeezes my hands, sending warmth through our connection. "She's brought light back to places I thought would stay dark forever. She's awakened magic that lay dormant for centuries."

Tears stream down my face as I pull Arcanum into a tight embrace. Her form feels solid yet ethereal, like hugging sunlight given shape. "Thank you," I whisper against her shoulder, my voice thick with emotion. "For everything. For helping us find each other. For believing in us."

Through our bond, I feel another wave of Ronan's grief wash over me. His voice reaches across the void, heavy with tears: "I love you. Stay with me, brave, beautiful mate. Stay."

The raw anguish in his words tears at my soul. I can feel him slipping deeper into darkness with each passing moment, his hope failing as he holds my lifeless body.

"Please," I turn back to the Goddess, not bothering to hide my desperation. Magic surges through me, making the air shimmer. "He's given everything for others. Let me give this to him. Let me go back."

The Goddess's light flickers, then stabilizes into a blinding radiance. Her power fills the void, testing, measuring, judging. "Very well." Her voice echoes with finality. "But he must make good on his vow, or we'll release you both to the Darkness."

"We will," I promise fervently, pouring all my conviction into the words. "We'll find Rurik. We'll bring him to justice. Whatever it takes."

She nods, then turns to Arcanum. Power crackles between them like northern lights. "Notify the Council. They have a new hunter on their roster. I want the man who dares to harm my creation."

As the Goddess begins to fade, her form dissolving into motes of light, I call out, "Wait!" When she pauses, I gather my courage. "Will I ever find my mother?"

Her expression softens slightly, becoming almost gentle. "That's a journey for another time. For now, know that you and Ronan will share a lifetime of love." Her voice carries both warning and promise. "But first, you must keep your promise. Bring Rurik to the Council."

"One more thing," I ask as Arcanum prepares to send me back. Magic swirls around us, reality pressing at the edges of the void. "Why me? Why us?"

Arcanum smiles, her form beginning to blur like a painting in rain. "In the Nexus, souls are paired before they connect with their bodies. He was always yours, and you were always his. You just had to find each other." Her eyes twinkle with ancient wisdom. "The Keep simply helped things along."

The void begins to brighten, reality pressing in from all sides. Arcanum's voice follows me as I feel myself being pulled back: "We'll be here when you return. Now go. He's waiting."

The darkness shatters like glass, and sensation floods back in a rush of pain and awareness—the weight of my body, the burn of the curse's poison in my veins, Ronan's tears falling hot on my skin. I fight through layers of pain and exhaustion, clawing my way back to consciousness.

My eyes flutter open to find Ronan's face above mine, his expression raw with grief and hope. Silver eyes wide withdisbelief meet mine, and I feel our bond surge with renewed strength.

"Moya lyubov," he breathes, the words carrying all his love and fear and desperate relief.

I lift a shaking hand to his cheek, feeling the wetness of his tears beneath my fingers. "I promised I wouldn't let go," I whisper hoarsely, my voice rough from disuse. "And I keep my promises."

His arms tighten around me as he presses his forehead to mine. Through our bond, I feel everything—his relief, his love, his lingering fear. But underneath it all is something new—a fierce determination that matches my own.

We have promises to keep, after all. A brother to find. A council to face.

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