Chapter 127: Chapter 127
He shifted into his massive wolf form, steam rising from his fur in the cold air. His wolf was even more impressive in the snow—powerful, graceful, otherworldly.
I approached slowly, running my fingers through his thick winter coat. "You’re so soft."
Christian’s wolf made a pleased rumbling sound.
"Can I—" I gestured to his back.
His wolf lowered down in clear invitation.
I climbed on carefully, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing close to his warmth. His fur smelled like pine and snow and Christian.
Then we were moving.
Christian’s wolf carried me through the moonlit forest at a smooth lope, muscles bunching and releasing beneath me. Cold air rushed past while I held tight, laughing with pure joy.
He leaped over fallen logs, dodged around trees, and showed me the most beautiful parts of Shadow Ridge in winter. The ride felt like flying—thrilling but safe because I trusted Christian completely.
We ran for thirty minutes before Christian brought us back toward the pack house.
I slid off reluctantly. "That was incredible."
Christian shifted back, quickly dressing while I shivered. He wrapped both arms around me.
"We should get you inside."
"Don’t want to. I want to stay in the magic forest forever."
"You’re going to get hypothermia."
"Worth it."
But we hurried toward our quarters, both of us laughing breathlessly.
We tumbled through our door around midnight, teeth chattering.
"Okay, I’m freezing now," I admitted.
"Told you."
My fingers were too numb to work my coat zipper. Christian helped, both of us fumbling with frozen hands. We created a pile of wet winter gear by the door.
"Diana’s going to kill us for staying out this late," I said.
"Diana can’t prove anything."
"Diana knows everything. She’s magic."
Christian built a fire while I changed into the softest pajamas I owned plus fuzzy socks. He made hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, exactly how I liked it.
We built a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the fireplace, cocooning ourselves in warmth.
I wrapped both hands around my mug, watching flames dance. Feeling slowly returned to my fingers in pins and needles.
"Best day ever," I declared.
"Even though you can’t feel your toes?"
"Especially because I can’t feel my toes. It means we did it right."
Christian tucked us deeper into our blanket nest, his supernatural warmth seeping into my frozen bones.
I set aside my empty mug and shifted closer, seeking more heat. Christian’s hands rubbed my back, generating friction warmth.
"Better?"
"Getting there."
I tilted my face up. Our kiss tasted like chocolate and marshmallows and perfect winter days.
The kiss deepened naturally. Hands roamed under layers of clothes, finding skin. Christian murmured against my lips about better ways to get warm.
"Show me," I whispered.
We made love slowly in our blanket nest by firelight. Taking time to savor every touch, every whispered endearment, every moment of connection.
Later, wrapped in blankets and Christian’s arms with the fire burning low, something clicked into place in my brain.
"I used to think happiness was about big moments," I said quietly. "Achievements. Major life events. Things you could point to and say, ’that’s when I was happy.’"
Christian’s fingers traced lazy patterns on my shoulder. "And now?"
"Now I know it’s this. Snowball fights and hot chocolate. You build snow wolves to make me smile. Getting hypothermia together because we’re idiots who don’t know when to come inside."
"We are pretty stupid."
"The best kind of stupid."
Christian kissed my temple. "You taught me how to actually live instead of just existing. These simple moments with you—they’re everything I didn’t know I was missing."
"Getting sappy on me, Alpha?"
"A little bit."
We fell asleep in our blanket nest, perfectly content.
I woke up disoriented—wrong angle, floor instead of bed, fading fire.
Christian was already awake, staring at his phone with an expression I’d learned to dread.
"What’s wrong?"
He looked up, his alpha mask firmly in place. "Marcus just sent a message. There’s something strange happening at the northern border. Tracks in the snow that don’t match any known animal."
My blood went cold. "Tracks from what?"
"That’s the problem." Christian stood, already pulling on clothes. "They don’t know. But whatever it is, it’s big, and it was circling the Rodriguez family’s cottage last night."
The Rodriguez family. The one with three young kids that we’d just ensured had extra winter supplies.
"We need to go," I said, already moving.
"Sophie, if this is dangerous—"
"Then we go together. That’s how this works."
Christian looked like he wanted to argue but knew better.
We dressed in tense silence, the magical snow day feeling like a distant memory.
Whatever was out there in the snow, circling our pack members’ homes—we were about to find out if Shadow Ridge was ready to face it.
