The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 47

Sasha began to settle against my chest to sleep, unaware of all that horror.

The growl that rose from the “alpha’s” throat made me turn my gaze back to the living room, and it must have come through clearly on the line, because Agent Aguilera didn’t say anything for a while. But the horrified expressions on the werewolves’ faces (and the woman’s) made it very clear to me that they were REALLY confused and much more than just “a little” worried.

“What the hell is going on?” I heard Hans say.

“Three cats at once? That’s ridiculous,” Christian muttered, bewildered.

“It has to be a coincidence,” I heard a very deep voice say-the black wolf.

Alexander lowered his head slightly and then continued:

“There’s no such thing as coincidence in any of this,” he told his companions, then returned to the line. “Alright, Rex, you have your orders. Don’t delay.”

“Uh-there’s more,” the agent interrupted, clearing his throat. “Whoever is doing this also seems determined not to draw attention to your family’s disappearance. He even gave you an alibi: he put a sign on your front door saying you moved to New York urgently because your mother is very sick. He even left information for the utility companies. This is very elaborate, even for a cat.” He paused again, then added with bitterness: “Lai, this bastard killed your wife, and now he’s coming for you and your children. There’s malice in this-it can’t just be an isolated incident. What did you do that would make three hypothetical felines organize against you?”

I expected Alexander to answer with something that justified the attacks, but all I saw was him clench his fists and square his shoulders. Nika took a step toward him, still clearly wanting to comfort him, but with a subtle hand gesture Alexander ordered her not to come any closer. That reaction sent a chill down my spine-his willpower seemed unbreakable; he would never shatter, not even if he were dying of pain from the loss.

When I realized that one or two tears had slipped down my cheeks, I surprised myself sobbing.

I quickly wiped my eyes with my fist, but-

No, the sobs weren’t mine. They were coming from behind me.

An indescribable cold ran down my back again, and I turned slowly to look. Part of me

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already knew what I was going to find, but not even that premonition could have prepared me for the pain that stabbed my chest when I saw Andre’s sad face, standing in the doorway of my bedroom. I opened my mouth to say something, but all that came out was a moan. Sasha had already fallen asleep against my skin, innocent. She would never remember any of what was happening-but that didn’t make the image before my eyes any less painful.

Poor thing-how he was trembling. His fists were clenched and he was crying silently.

He had heard it; there was no other explanation. Alexander had been very clear about that- his son had extremely sensitive hearing. Andre took a step back, and I pulled away from the wooden panel to go toward him. I hugged Sasha closer and tried to compose myself to speak to him, but everything that came out of my throat was inadequate.

“Andre! Wait, sweetheart…” I know I said-or tried to say.

Maybe I spoke too loudly, or maybe not. But there were consequences.

The boy pressed his back against the half-open door of my bedroom, his small, brittle fingers on the polished wood, trembling. He was wearing only the dark blue T-shirt I had bought for him-which hung a little big on him-and he was barefoot; and he looked smaller than ever for a seven-year-old. Just seeing the way he cried, in silence, made me want to cry too.

“… My mom is dead, isn’t she, Han?” he asked quietly.

And what was I supposed to tell him?

I had no magic solution for the incomprehensible pain he must have been feeling, nor a time machine to go back and warn Alexander what was going to happen to him and his whole family.

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<Chapter 47-2

He didn’t answer me. In fact, he buried his face in the blanket and ignored me.

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I didn’t have much experience with children to know what to do in a moment like that, but-

“Look, I know it hurts a lot, sweetheart. Believe me, I know. You know? I also had a husband, and I was going to have a baby, and I loved them both very much.” I said, and I felt my eyes burn with tears, but I forced myself not to let the knot in my throat stop me from speaking. It was one of the first times I was telling someone outside my circle-or my therapist-what I had felt when Paul and my child were gone. “And one bad day, something very terrible happened to us and they both died. I almost died too. I know how you feel, love. Hiding under the bed and getting cold won’t make that pain go away. For now, nothing will make you feel better-but sometimes it’s easier to go through that pain if someone is beside you.”

For a while, Andre didn’t respond.

I was about to give up and leave him alone, thinking maybe that was what he needed-or his father’s company, someone of his own kind who also had all the answers-but the boy kept surprising me.

“Who was beside you, Han?” he asked, his voice muffled by the thickness of the blanket against his lips.

“Well, my parents were there. And my husband’s parents. I don’t have brothers or sisters, and my husband didn’t either,” I admitted, apprehensively, and sat down on the rug to wait and see, cross-legged. I positioned my injured arm so it wouldn’t hurt as much. “Some friends were there too. The important thing is that all of them hugged me a little when I needed it. It wasn’t easier to stop thinking about what had happened, but at least I didn’t feel so alone.”

It took a little while longer before I heard movement under the bed.

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