The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 145

Chapter 145

+25 Points

I accepted his answer with a “hmm” and absentmindedly kissed his forearm, which was crossed over my chest from beneath my neck. His whole arm made a comfortable and protective pillow despite everything, and I traced his hardened muscles with my fingers, admiring the smooth skin without more marks than one or another small scar, without any hair at all.

“…I suppose he doesn’t live hundreds of years either.”

“And you suppose very well. The oldest of ours ever documented lived one hundred and eighteen

years, with great luck. It’s not like we are very prolific either, because our women often have

trouble conceiving; but we put a lot of enthusiasm into the matter,” he commented with a small

laugh. He always explained whatever I wanted to know about his people very willingly; he liked talking to me about those things. That last statement surprised me and unintentionally answered a whole series of questions I had been asking myself for a long time, beginning with the fact that Alexander had only one brother, Mikhail. “And we are definitely not a very old race, as far as I know. The Books began to be written four hundred years ago, but we calculate that we existed only a handful of centuries before that, in small and wild clans, hidden in the most inaccessible

territories. The world itself pushed us to organize and form more complex social structures over time, I suppose.”

He had already mentioned the “Books” a couple of times during his visits, and Andre had done so as well, with enthusiasm. Alexander had told me that they were compilations of the history of the families, invaluable volumes written by the leaders of each house themselves. Every wolf–child destined to lead a family, or the entire race, studied those books from a very young age, and Andre had begun to read them with his grandfather’s permission.

The next leader had to make the history of his race as much his own as the air he breathed,

because one day he too would have to write his part.

“…I understand,” I agreed calmly. “Is that why it’s so problematic for someone to want an ordinary person as a partner, besides the obvious?”

When “the obvious,” of course, was the fact that they were werewolves and had to keep that part

of their identity very well hidden.

Alexander hesitated before answering that time.

“…The thing is that our women can leave the families if they wish; it’s not the same with the men,”

he said with a sigh. “Men can father wolf–children; women cannot, not without a partner of the

same blood. Everything is in the father. So if one of our women chooses to marry an ordinary man,

that is not a problem; it’s just that she will no longer be able to participate in the specific activities

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Chapter 145

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of her family and will have to take the truth about her ancestry to the grave, be careful with certain

aspects… we are taught from when we are little, so it’s not very difficult for us to fit in with other

people, I suppose. But men always look for a partner within the Hexagon, for greater security, and because a well–chosen mate ensures strong offspring.”

He had also explained to me that in the internal jargon of his family they called the other six

werewolf families over which the white wolves ruled the “Hexagon.” The latter, although they were

not all from the same house (surname), were never included as part of that group; they were

always above it.

In a primitive way, the Circle of every “alpha” was the minimized representation of that Hexagon, a

tool of direct contact with the families.

The complexity of their social ladder and the history of their people, their small customs, was very

interesting to me; although in some aspects I sided with Alexander, many of their internal “laws”

were somewhat outdated, such as the politics of marriage.

In one way or another, that made me think about us, and…

“It makes sense,” I added, understanding. “After all, you want to continue existing and you need

some rules.”

“For some, marriage is a business.” He pressed me a little closer against his chest; I felt that he

was truly opening up to me in expressing his opinions about all that. “It is nothing more than a

transaction, looking for a partner in another family to drive away the ghost of inbreeding and have

healthy children, to follow traditions. I did not want something as important as my marriage to be

such a cold thing; I was supposed to live a long time beside the same woman, have children with

her. I did not feel capable of lying down every day next to a person who perhaps felt nothing for

1. me. Many women of our race have such a loyal and absolute attitude that they would do anything

for the good of their surnames.”

“Like Nika: she did not commit to you when your father ordered her to do so, even though she

perhaps did not agree either,” I pondered, but did not say it.

“My parents‘ marriage was arranged like that,” he added after a moment of silence in which I

thought about many things. “They have always seemed to function well together, but I am not sure

they truly feel anything for each other. And sometimes it causes me sadness and anger to think

about that. They could have had something better, you know?”

“Maybe you don’t know everything about your parents,” I pointed out instead. “And what if it is fine

for them like that? I mean, they are still together, despite everything. As you told me once, the wolf

seeks a partner for life, but the werewolf wants a partner for as long as he can have her. Maybe

that is what works for your parents, having each other, even if they do not love one another. You, on

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Chapter 145

the other hand… you needed more than that. And you did what you felt was right.”

+25 Points

“And it has served me so well,” he replied with a sarcastic growl. “My virtue above them is that I

actually use my brain to think, instead of leaving that task to my nose.”

I am sure that in the next interval of silence that fell over us, we both thought about Anya and

everything that had happened in those days, now two years and some weeks ago. About

everything that had gone wrong, the wrong decisions and the terrors endured. I felt cold throughout my whole body remembering it. I shifted within Alexander’s arms until I faced him and

searched for his lips blindly in the semi–darkness of the stormy night to kiss him. He pressed me

with his hands on my lower back, in a very intimate and delicate gesture that allowed me to feel

the hardness of his abdomen against mine and the warmth that was born again lower down, and

when I managed to pull away, I murmured:

“No. That way of thinking has served you to come back to me. Don’t underestimate yourself like

that.”

In the dimness of the room, I would swear that his eyes looked a faint light blue, deep and

somewhat radiant. Alexander answered with silence and an intense look of relief. I murmured a

soft “I love you” before succumbing to the need to burn in his hands once more.

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