The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 22

Impressed once again (I was actually getting tired of how surprising he was), I think I stayed blinking for a while until I managed to articulate something. My coffee was getting cold, but I didn’t care much anymore.

Claim

“Let me guess: all those people you’ve been calling they’re ‘your group, right? Something like your pack. You’re their ‘alpha.”

Alexander sighed heavily and scratched the back of his neck a little before answering, with a growl:

“If that helps you understand it, then sure.”

“You were eight years away from them, they thought you

were dead, and they still obey you?”

He looked at me as if he didn’t understand the question and frowned even more. I suppose something about what I said offended him, because he replied:

“Bonds are strong,” he began, firmly. “All of them are my friends before they are my subordinates. We are people before we are beasts. I think you still don’t realize it: we are not beasts that can turn human; we are people who have an animal heritage that’s all. Besides, I’ve known these people since I was a child.”

“…You know? It’s getting harder and harder for me to separate Alexander ‘the werewolf’ from Alexander Valinchenko, ‘the businessman’s son.’ How old are you? Thirty, thirty-two? You were quite young when you were declared missing.”

“I’m twenty-eight years old.”

“…you look older.”

At this point, he definitely got irritated. His voice no longer sounded so kind afterward:

“…Johanna, I’m glad you’re calmer now, but I don’t understand where all this is coming from.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Sometimes evasion is the best way not to think about how much the situation I’m living scares me, forgive me,” I shot back at him in an unpleasant tone, though my voice came out that way purely out of frustration. “Listen; I know I’m on this again, but this… cat-man who shot you, why is he looking for you? What did you do to him?”

I thought he was going to refuse to answer me, just as he hadn’t told me more or less why he had disappeared without leaving a trace. And it truly wasn’t something that mattered to me, but I had been intrigued long enough; and it’s clear that Alexander was without a doubt a decent and well-mannered person-very well-mannered-because he was kind enough to try to dispel my doubts without raising his voice:

။

1/4

< Chapter 22

Claim

“I have no idea. I had never seen him before. Everything happened too fast; I didn’t even have time to… to anything. When I opened the door, he was there. I closed it again, and he lunged after me. All I managed to do was grab my children and run. He replied, and that did sound quite sincere. “I

didn’t have time for anything else. I can’t even remember at what moment he shot me, or how long

I was running through the forest with my children until I could stop to catch my breath.”

Well, I wasn’t going to doubt something like that. What sense would it make for him to lie to me

about it?

Besides, his whole expression reflected the fear, sadness, and anguish that I imagined he was feeling when he said it.

“And your wife? What happened to the children’s mother?” The question came out in a whisper.

Alexander looked me in the eyes.

He was going to tell me, I realized. He was going to talk about it; he even opened his mouth to do so, but at the moment he was about to form the words, something distracted him and he turned his gaze toward the stairs. I did the same, distracted, and saw Andre on the mezzanine, holding the baby in his arms. Then her little voice reached me; she was talking with annoying snores. Her father stood up immediately, and I couldn’t help but sigh with a certain disappointment. I immediately felt bad about it-that is, why such eagerness to meddle in his life?

Why did I care so much?

Because of the children, of course.

Andre came down the stairs; Alexander went toward him.

“…Dad, my little sister got dirty.”

“All right, give her to me and go get dressed. Thanks for bringing her, champ.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Johanna,” the boy greeted me, tired.

I couldn’t help but smile at him and stand up from the sofa as well. I left the mug and the toast on

the little table.

“Good morning, sweetheart, Did you sleep well?” I answered him, in a better mood.

Andre nodded and rubbed one eye with his fist, still a bit drowsy. He gave me a huge yawn that let me see the tip of what in the future would be sharp fangs, like his father’s. I turned my gaze toward Alexander and saw him in the kitchen, looking for the colorful blanket, diapers, and other accessories to change his daughter. He knew very well what to do with the baby, so I didn’t want to get involved. Somehow, it pleased me to see him moving around inside my house with more confidence. That made me feel a little safer, as if we had already smoothed things over and were at peace with our thoughts about one another; it convinced me more than ever that between us ”

111

“…Now that I remember, I haven’t seen him again since before you arrived.”

“Obviously. He’s not going to come into the house while we’re here,” he replied, with a slight smile, as if some private joke amused him that I couldn’t quite understand. “But if he’s a Siamese cat with a tea-with-milk-colored face, he’s fine; I saw him last night near the garage, he hid in the woodpile.”

“That sounds like Walter,” I sighed, a little calmer now. “So, near the garage? I’ll take him some

food,”

“Good… I’ll change Sasha.”

I nodded, and Alexander went upstairs with his children. Andre was saying something about changing clothes and a sweater that was in the bag with a drawing of a moose on the front. I turned around and went to the kitchen to get my coat and Walter’s food.

Adopting Walter had been a good decision.

I saw him one morning in the display window of the city pet shop, curled up like a tiny ball of fur in a corner of the glass compartment where they had him on display, sunk into a nest of white wood

111

3/4

< Chapter 22

Clair

shavings. He was a sweet little bun the color of tea with milk. When I got closer to the window, he lifted his head from the shavings and looked at me with sleepy, gentle lavender-colored eyes. I fell apart instantly. He looked so lonely and abandoned I know he wasn’t, but my subconscious convinced itself that his big eyes conveyed a sadness I could easily identify with. The clerk told me he was the last kitten of the litter and had been like that for several days, curled up in that little corner of his cubicle.

I’ve always liked animals very much, but Paul insisted that cats weren’t as useful as dogs, and that’s why we had a dog, Toby. After Paul’s death, and as I contemplated with increasing longing the idea of moving out of state, I decided to leave Toby with my parents; they knew how to appreciate a good puppy. They would take good care of him. I couldn’t look at the animal without remembering the joy that lit up Paul’s features when he went out into the yard to play with him, like a child.

Comments

LUCK DRAW >

106

H