The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 33

Sasha woke me in the middle of the night with her crying.

Andre woke up as well, frightened, and I stroked his hair so he would lie back down. His sister only needed a bottle and a diaper change. It took some effort to convince the boy that he didn’t need to help, but when I finally managed it, I tucked him in well before getting up and left the lamp on, just in case.

When I went down to the kitchen with the furious Sasha in my arms, I found the living room empty and the fire in the fireplace dying out. Everything was silent and half-dark. Alexander was nowhere to be seen. I understood what was going on when I turned on the kitchen lights and saw that his clothes were neatly folded in an orderly pile near the back door, on the floor; he was already outside, keeping watch. I changed the baby’s diaper and put some formula into the bottle. I watched her for a moment while I waited for the water to heat up enough. Four months old, Alexander had said she was? She seemed like a much bigger baby than that to me, judging by how active and alert she was. Perhaps it was a trait of her race-they developed faster than ordinary children. I noted that in my mind to ask Alexander about it

when I saw him, since it seemed interesting to me.

I began to hum softly to calm her, since she was still quite angry about the diaper change. What a temperamental little princess she could be sometimes. I yawned, and when I switched her from one arm to the other, I could finally bring the bottle within her reach. She already knew exactly what to do and didn’t take long to find the n****e, making her little

noises.

However, at a certain moment, I felt the warmth of her little hand on my skin. I had a few buttons undone on my nightshirt; I hadn’t realized that a good part of my breast was visible, and she had found it. She rested her head more comfortably, closer to me (but without stopping eating-that was her priority), and her small, warm hand gently squeezed the flesh, perhaps as a reflex. Four months. If her mother had breastfed her, then she must have missed it terribly, poor thing. Maybe that was why she got so sensitive at feeding time,

because she wanted breast milk. I remembered that I had read somewhere an article

recommending that adoptive mothers offer the breast to their babies even if they had no milk, just to calm them.

It occurred to me that maybe…

I immediately condemned myself for having even briefly considered the possibility of doing such a thing. I was not that girl’s mother, neither real nor adoptive! I couldn’t breastfeed the little one, not even to ease the absence of her mother! That was ridiculous. I clenched my teeth and leaned more firmly against the counter, staring at the ceiling to stop thinking about

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the demanding pressure that tiny hand was exerting on me.

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I didn’t realize that I was trembling again until Sasha rejected the empty bottle and I set it down on the counter.

I tried to calm myself as much as possible before placing the girl over my shoulder so she could burp. I rubbed her back slowly, and after that, she immediately looked for a place to settle, always with her face turned toward my neck. I understood that, being a woman, by treating her with affection and giving her my care even if it was out of necessity, the little one felt comfortable with me and that was why she didn’t protest. Andre had already told me so: his sister perceived something in me. I would have liked to know what that something was. I cradled her with my arms bent at the level of my belly, and Sasha curled up right in the space between my breasts, as close as possible to my heart. I think that was what made her fall asleep so quickly-the frantic beating of my blood, stirred by thinking about things that did me no good.

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Chapter 33-2

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I was even more startled when I heard a tapping at the window, and I almost screamed.

kitchen.

I was very wrapped up in my own thoughts, thinking about lighting the burner and bringing firewood into the house…

I should have been paying more attention, undoubtedly.

Everything else happened very quickly, I’m sure, but at that moment it seemed to last an

eternity.

I opened the door, softly humming Alexander’s cellphone ringtone and hearing him speak at full speed in the other room, but when I lifted the trash bag and my gaze, I ran into something large that cast a shadow over me. Enormous. I froze instantly, and the handle of the black bag slipped from my fingers, falling to the floor with a squashed “plof.” I opened my mouth to scream again, and the sound of a deep, guttural growl filled my ears instead of Alexander’s

voice.

It was gigantic, almost as tall as Alexander in his animal form. And the eyes were a shade of green like tropical sea water, set in a white, feral face with a broad, very pink nose. The whiskers were very long, and his shoulders were incredibly wide. Behind him he moved a slender, elegant tail, sinuous like a snake. He wore nothing but that perfect coat of fur that shone in the morning sun.

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