The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 56

Andre let his head fall against my shoulder; he wasn’t responding or moving, and in my other arm Sasha kept kicking and screaming. They were like two extremes. I still don’t know how I managed to carry both and not kill us all in some absurd fall. That would have been the final irony. But I did it, one way or another, and my body hurt more than ever; I even felt horrible pulls in parts of my body that should have been perfectly healthy. Was that the power of suggestion, of fear? That day you learn many things about terror.

When I reached the ground floor, I stopped short when I saw the front door open.

There were clothes on the floor too-a plaid shirt, jeans… farther out, on the porch, a T-shirt. Something slipped under my skin at the thought that another monster might have entered during the fight. At that moment, I didn’t realize those clothes were Alexander’s.

Cautiously, I leaned out to look…

The yard was deserted, but right at the other end (about ten meters away, near the first trees and the perimeter fence), I noticed there were two shiny black trucks parked there, with snow piled up on their roofs and hoods.

I completely blinded myself to the ridiculous hope that one of those two vehicles might have the keys still in the ignition.

I carried the children as best I could and, forcing myself to make the effort of my life, ran toward the vehicles. I had to do it for them, for the little ones. The snow was thick, and every step I took away from the house cost me twice as much as the previous one, but I reached the first truck under the slowly falling snow, my throat dry. I carefully pressed Andre’s body against one side of the Toyota so he wouldn’t fall, and my frantic hand searched to open the

second cabin door.

I can’t explain the relief that flooded through me when the lock clicked with a dull sound and opened…

I jumped inside the truck with the children and shoved my way onto the long back seat. I stretched toward the dashboard between the two front seats and, with trembling fingers, searched for the central locking button. When all the locks dropped at once, I managed to breathe a little easier. At that moment, I accidentally hit the horn switch with my elbow; the startled blast made me scream hysterically, but I managed to control myself before making a bigger scene. Sasha kept crying in the back seat, her little voice hoarse from the effort, and Andre was complaining about something, lying full-length on the polished leather.

I was slow to react, it’s true, and to notice that the boy was not unconscious; but that didn’t

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stop me from desperately searching for that precious key even though there was none. I punched the dashboard in frustration and let out another scream-this time of helplessness. Sasha went quiet for a moment, perhaps frightened by my reaction, so unusual for her.

And that was when I heard glass breaking…

my

I should have paid more attention to the guest room window when, out of the corner of eye and while struggling with the truck door, I saw that the glass was half raised. Later, I understood why Alexander hadn’t come to help us when I expected him to: he was already acting. I suppose he climbed onto the porch and entered the other room, waiting for his moment to attack; because what truly captured all my attention was him and his powerful animal form when I saw him burst fully through curtains, glass, and ferocious growls, with the panther in his grasp.

They crashed onto the porch roof, making it shudder, and the panther threw a few blind, furious swipes. Black as night against pure, almost radiant white, cut through by a dizzying flash of purple.

Alexander howled and growled-it was a chaotic chorus of roars; the wolf rose with ears erect over the massive feline and slammed a paw into his head. But the blow didn’t daze his opponent. The black monster twisted beneath Alexander’s weight and struggled to claw, bite, and kick him, while the wolf threw his head back with his muzzle pressed to his chest (protecting his throat, I hope) and jaws open, those huge bloodstained teeth fully visible.

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<Chapter 56-2

Chapter 56-2

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I was far from them, it’s true, but the impression their teeth made on me was…

against the seat, facing me. “Can you hear me, sweetheart? Tell me, where does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt, I’m fine. I hit my head, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“Andre, don’t pretend to be brave like your dad! There’s a lot of blood here! What-?”

“This blood isn’t all mine,” he interrupted, showing me his clawed hands. His fingers were stained red and he had clumps of black fur that weren’t his between his nails; I realized the blood on his chest and neck had run down from his muzzle-when he bit the panther near the nape with all his strength. Part of me felt such relief at understanding that, my shoulders dropped. Still, Andre lifted his left arm and showed me a deep crimson groove running from his shoulder blade to his navel. “He just scratched me here. I was lucky.”

“…thank Heaven,” I sighed with real feeling, sinking into myself, deflated. “Okay, let me clean you.”

“Sasha is crying a lot. Is she hurt too?”

Andre moved closer to me, worried, whimpering softly in a very puppy-like way, and when his sister heard those sounds, she calmed down a little. While my most alarmist side screamed at me to tend the boy’s wound, my most maternal side suggested I give the baby to her blood-and-breed brother so he could soothe her with his canine voice. In that moment, it seemed best. Right there, precisely there, those children were more brother and sister than

ever.

And before my eyes, even though Andre had a muzzle planted in the middle of his face and his body covered in fur, with animal ears on top of his head and a long flexible tail, or claws on his hands…

he was just a child like any other.

Just a child-one very brave and daring.

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