Page 41 of Christmas with a Cursed Werewolf

"The Goddess was right," I murmur against her skin. "Our souls were paired long before we met. I feel it in every breath, every heartbeat."

Briar's free hand comes up to rest over my heart, and I feel her magic reach for mine—gold meeting silver in a dance as old as time itself. "Show me," she whispers, her eyes holding mine. "Show me your wolf. Not because of any curse, but because it's part of who you are. Who we are."

The request sends a thrill through me. For the first time, I can choose this transformation—not forced by the curse, but embraced as part of my nature. I step back, letting the change flow through me naturally. It feels different now, smoother, more like sliding into another aspect of myself than being torn between two forms.

When I open my eyes as the wolf, I see Briar watching me with such love it makes my heart ache. She steps forward without hesitation, burying her fingers in my fur. The touch sends sparks of pleasure through our bond.

"Beautiful," she breathes, and I feel her magic wrap around us both like a warm blanket. "My fierce, loyal mate."

I press my muzzle against her hand, letting her feel my contentment through our connection. The library's magic pulses in response, creating a cocoon of warmth and light around us. This is what freedom feels like—the ability to be all of myself, wolf and man, and be loved completely for both.

A knock at the door breaks our reverie. Alistair stands in the doorway, his eyes twinkling. "Pardon the interruption, but young Nolan is quite insistent about decorating that tree."

Briar laughs, the sound making the magical lights dance overhead. "We shouldn't keep him waiting then."

I shift back smoothly, taking her hand in mine. "Lead the way, love."

The rest of the morning passes in a blur of joy and celebration. We decorate the massive Christmas tree in the grand hall, Briar's magic making the ornaments float and dance through the air while Nolan watches in wonder. Giselle brings hot chocolate that steams with more than just heat, and Alistair tells stories of Christmases long past.

Through it all, I watch Briar—the way she moves with newfound grace, her magic flowing freely now. Every gesture carries an innate power that makes the castle sing. When she laughs, flowers bloom in the nearby vases. When she touches the ornaments, they glow with inner light. She's come into her own as an arcanist, and Frostspire Keep celebrates her every move.

The grand hall, once a testament to our isolation, has become the heart of our celebration. Garlands wind up the columns, twinkling with magical lights that respond to our moods. The massive fireplace crackles with flames that cast no shadows—only warm, golden light that seems to chase away any lingering darkness.

"Look what I found!" Nolan calls out, holding up an ancient-looking ornament. It's a crystal wolf, its eyes seeming to gleam with their own inner fire. As Briar takes it from him, the ornament begins to glow, responding to her touch.

"This is special," she says, looking at me with knowing eyes. "It belongs at the top of the tree."

I watch as she raises her hand, magic swirling around her fingers. The crystal wolf floats upward, coming to rest at the very peak of the tree. As it settles into place, a wave of magic pulses outward, making all the decorations shine brighter.

"Perfect," I murmur, pulling her close. Through our bond, I feel her contentment mixing with my own. The castle's magic hums around us, a melody of joy and belonging that makes my heart full.

Later, as the sun begins to set, casting long golden rays through the windows, I lead Briar to the balcony overlooking the grounds. The snow-covered landscape glitters like diamonds, and the air is crisp with winter's bite. But we feel only warmth, wrapped in the castle's protective magic.

"Look," I say, gesturing to where the pack roams freely below. The wolves move with new purpose, no longer bound by the curse but choosing to stay, to protect, to belong. "They're part of us now. Part of this place."

Briar leans against the railing, her magic reaching out to touch the barriers that once trapped us. But those walls have transformed into something else—not a prison, but a sanctuary. "Everything's changed," she says softly. "And yet, it feels more right than ever."

I wrap my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder. "Because this is who we were always meant to be. Together, protecting what matters most."

She turns in my embrace, her eyes reflecting the sunset's gold. "I love you," she says simply, the words carrying all the power of a spell. "Man and wolf, darkness and light. All of you."

The kiss we share is gentle but full of promise. Above us, the first stars begin to appear in the darkening sky, and I feel the weight of our promise to the Goddess—not as a burden, but as a purpose. We'll find Rurik, bring him to justice. But not today. Today is for us, for this perfect moment of peace we've earned.

"Merry Christmas, moya lyubov," I whisper against her lips.

She smiles, and the castle's magic swells around us like a symphony. "Merry Christmas, my love."

As night falls fully, Frostspire Keep glows like a beacon in the darkness. Every window shimmers with warm light, every room pulses with renewed life.

This is our home, our sanctuary, our future. And whatever challenges lie ahead, we'll face them together—werewolf and arcanist, bound by love stronger than any curse.

Hunter’s Oath

RONAN

The portal's magic crackles around us as we materialize in the Sacred Chamber.

Ancient power thrums through the circular room, making my skin prickle and my wolf stir restlessly. I grip Briar's hand tighter, drawing strength from her presence as we face the seven elevated seats before us. The chamber itself seems alive—its walls adorned with shifting symbols that pulse with the convergence of realms.

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