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The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 40

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Just thinking that I could have put the children’s lives in danger gave me chills.

“…Listen, the creature that attacked this morning got here because of me.”

He nodded and answered quickly:

“While Hans was operating on me, Richie inspected your vehicle; but the scent he found on the seat is not the same as the creature that was here. The being that traveled with you was not a tiger, although for the moment I also can’t tell you what it was.”

“So then… the boy I picked up on the road wasn’t human?”

“No. Richie says he was another feline. His smell gives him away. As soon as I can go myself to see your Jeep, I’ll know whether it’s the panther that attacked me in Anchorage or whether all this has been a damn coincidence.”

With a sudden sickness in my stomach, I lingered for a moment on the image of that black-haired boy in my mind. He was much too skinny and much too short to be the

enormous tiger that had forced its way into my house, so did that mean it could be someone

else?

“…If they weren’t the same creature, how is it that the tiger had my scarf?”

Alexander smiled slightly, but I realized he was nervous.

“Now THAT is an interesting question, Johanna.”

“He had my scarf,” I insisted, as if the answer were very obvious to me.

“… Yes, that’s true.”

“If they weren’t the same being, that means the one that was in my Jeep yesterday was the one who GAVE the scarf to the one that attacked me this morning! I had that scarf with me the whole time, it has my smell… your rue trick didn’t work, they found us anyway.” I spoke almost shouting, but in a very low voice so I wouldn’t disturb the children.

All right, that sounded very crazy, but could there be another explanation?

“Well, Johanna, it’s a little unlikely because felines don’t work in teams; they’re solitary,” Alexander argued. “Besides, in what way would this entity connect you to me, or know where to look for you? Unless it had been watching you beforehand, or had followed my trail to this place… it’s hard to say. The scarf could have given it a clue, that’s true, because if you had it, the natural scent of your skin would be soaked into the fabric. But if no one in this city or the

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surrounding area knows I’m here, how did it know exactly where to look?”

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“There is NO WAY the boy I picked up on the road could have turned into a creature two hundred pounds heavier,” I insisted, very firm in my idea. “If he was a cat, then he was someone else. And he gave my scarf to that tiger, who somehow located us.”

“Then I’m afraid we’re facing something bigger than I imagined,” was Alexander’s fortunate deduction, in a somewhat gloomy tone. “I’m a very important person for ours: if it were known who I am, a few would show up who would want to harm me.”

“I understand that royal families are prone to attacks and threats.”

“We are not any ‘royal family,” he corrected me, now somewhat annoyed.

“And what do you call your status for the entire race you’re part of? You said it yourself: one day you’ll be the one who leads. My God, your family has so much wealth that the Sultan of Brunei surely envies you-you had practically everything and you just took off without more.”

Honestly? I don’t know why or how the conversation veered in that direction. To this day, I blame the painkillers. Alexander frowned a little and showed his teeth in a confused grimace:

“What does one thing have to do with the other?” he asked, thrown off.

“Well, you’re in this situation because of your own fault, aren’t you?”

“I admit that. But I don’t regret anything I’ve done since I arrived in America up to this very

moment.”

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Chapter 40-2

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Chapter 40-2

One of his hands slid near the sleeping children, and only then did I realize that once again I was going way too far with my indiscretion, like when we discussed his wife. Why were we talking about this? No idea. The worked-up me just kept pushing-the old Han, the one who wasn’t afraid to ask absolutely anything and was fond of gossip. Well, an entertainment column generally feeds on gossip.

Ibuprofen is not my friend, definitely.

“Mikhail,” he corrected me. “My brother’s name is Mikhail.”

I nodded, accepting the correction.

“… The other day, Rex didn’t seem very in agreement with you. He expresses his opinions and from my perspective, it seems they aren’t exactly an echo of your thoughts.”

“Well, it’s because I’ve given him that freedom-him and my trusted people. But in the end, they’ll always end up obeying me. That’s what’s boring. You only have to apply a little more pressure, and anyone will give in. With the training Rex has, or Chris’s, they could subdue me very easily, but they don’t because their instinct cannot conceive of the idea of raising a finger against me. It’s been that way for hundreds of years in our family. I don’t know why, it just… IS THAT WAY. Just like we exist; we only know we were born like this.”

“It sounds interesting.”

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“…With everything you know, you could write an encyclopedia.”

“I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?” I think I arched an eyebrow at the irony.

“Good. That makes me feel calmer.”

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At that moment, Alexander stretched his arms up toward the ceiling and opened his mouth wide in a yawn. His fangs were more noticeable than ever, and I unconsciously brought a hand to my injured shoulder. He leaned back more comfortably against the headboard and placed his palm on the baby’s head to stroke her hair.

The way he looked at those children filled me with pride and a warmth inside…

“Does it hurt?” I blurted.

“No, the wound is much better; now it will heal well,” he replied calmly. “I had to keep it open during the trip so it would bleed and not close with infection inside.”

“No, I mean the change. Does it hurt to change form?”

Alexander lifted his gaze then. In the dim light of my bedside lamp, the crystalline blue of his eyes shone in a silvery tone. He looked surprised by the question, almost shocked, perhaps by how naturally I said it. To be very honest, I was also a little surprised by how easy it was to ask that question, and then ask it to him.

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