Chosen by the Beast Alpha

Chapter 40: Chapter 40

Lena’s POV

By the time my fingers went stiff from the cold, I slipped back into the house, only for a fresh wave of anxiety to slam right into me.

It was Christmas, and I hadn’t brought a single gift for the people who’d actually helped me—Theodore and Celeste.

Dominic had dragged me over here last night with zero warning, so of course I hadn’t had time to shop. I felt restless and on edge, because I had nothing with me.

While I was busy spiraling, Dominic showed up at the far end of the hall.

As he walked past me, he said in this super casual tone, "You don’t need to bring anything. You being here is already the best gift."

"...Seriously?" I blurted, thrown off. How the hell did he know exactly what was on my mind?

He didn’t answer right away. Then he said, "Yeah. In my family, we stay up all night on Christmas and keep the fire going till sunrise. My mom used to do it when I was a kid. If you really feel like you need to contribute something... that’s enough."

I blinked. "So... you’re helping me?"

Dominic didn’t even look at me. "I’m just solving a problem." Then he turned and walked off.

Later that night, after the formal dinner wrapped and both Theodore and Celeste had headed upstairs, I restarted the fire in the big sitting room.

To my surprise, Dominic hadn’t vanished like he usually did. He was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey dangling loosely from his hand, just quietly existing there.

I dug up some potatoes in the kitchen and tried roasting them over the flames. The result: charcoal on the outside, raw in the middle.

"These are awful," I said after taking a bite of one.

Dominic glanced at the sad, burnt lump in my hand but didn’t comment. Typical.

"When I was little, my mom used to let me roast chestnuts in the fireplace at Christmas. I always burned them, and she always ate every single one and said they were perfect."

I mumbled through another bite of my tragic potato and let out a small laugh. "She was a terrible liar. I figured that out fast. But she never stopped pretending."

The fire cracked sharply, sparks popping into the air. Dominic just stared into the flames, expression unreadable.

"After she died, nobody roasted chestnuts for me anymore. My stepmom said fireplaces were for decoration, not for kids to mess around with." I nudged one of the potatoes closer to the heat. "So I stopped."

I honestly wasn’t sure why I was spilling all this to him. Knowing Dominic, he definitely didn’t care about my childhood stories.

But the words just slipped out anyway, like they’d been waiting there for years.

Dominic didn’t say anything, but he didn’t walk off either. Time crawled by, the fire snapping softly in the background. Whenever the flames dipped, I tossed in another log. Dominic quietly topped off his wine like he had all the time in the world.

Around eleven, my phone buzzed. A text from my father: "Lena. I want to visit the Bloodmoon Pack. It’s been too long. We should talk."

My stomach just... knotted. Ever since I cut ties with the Blueridge Pack, he’d gone completely silent. And now, he picked Christmas of all days? He knew exactly what he was doing. The season of softness and forgiveness—yeah, right.

I didn’t text back. I called him.

He answered instantly, voice dripping with that fake warmth he only pulled out for show. "Lena, sweetheart, Merry Christmas."

Sweetheart. The word scraped against my nerves. Back when I still lived under his roof, he used to avoid me like I carried the plague. When I moved to the Silvercrest Pack for work, he never called once.

"Don’t," I said, my tone flat and hard. "You don’t get to call me that. You literally sold me off and then pocketed the payoff. There’s nothing for us to ‘talk about.’"

"Lena, that’s not fair—" he snapped.

"You want to visit the Bloodmoon Pack? The answer is no. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. You don’t belong here, and you don’t belong in my life. Cutting ties with the Blueridge Pack means cutting you out too."

"I’m still your father!" he shot back.

"The day I left Blueridge was the day you stopped being my father." My voice was shaking now, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I’d already stood up for myself once today. I could do it again. "Don’t call this number anymore."

I hung up and tossed my phone onto the cushion beside me. My hands were trembling. The fire was dying down, and I hadn’t even noticed.

"You should put another log on," Dominic’s voice sounded behind me.

I jolted a little. He was standing right behind my chair—quiet as a shadow.

"How long have you been there?" I asked.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked around the chair, grabbed a log from the rack, and set it onto the fire. Sparks danced up in a bright scatter.

Right then, a burst of color flashed across the window. I turned, and through the glass, fireworks were exploding in the night sky.

I stood up instantly and stepped closer to the window. A moment later, I heard Dominic’s footsteps come up behind me.

He stopped at my side, hands shoved in his pockets, both of us looking out through the tall window. We stayed quiet. Outside, the fireworks bloomed and faded against the dark sky.

"The fireworks are pretty amazing, right?" I said.

Dominic Voss replied in that cool, flat tone of his. "They’re pointless. Three seconds and they’re gone."

"But you were watching them," I said. "I saw your reflection in the glass."

"...I wasn’t watching," he muttered again. "I was just looking in that direction. Total coincidence."

"Right. You just happened to stare at the sky at the exact second a firework went off."

I almost laughed. Classic him—his mouth says one thing, but the truth is hiding somewhere completely different.

"You know," I said, "it won’t kill you to admit you think something looks nice."

Dominic only let out a small grunt. No answer. But he didn’t look away from the window either.

Then suddenly he said, "The view’s better from the terrace."

Before I could react, he was already heading toward the glass door. No waiting, no glance back. He just pushed it open and stepped straight into the freezing night air.

Of course I followed him. From the terrace, you could see the whole valley spread out below the estate. The fireworks didn’t look like distant little sparks anymore—they filled half the sky, huge and blazing.

We were close enough that every boom sent a soft vibration through my chest. The air was icy enough to sting my lungs, but the sky was burning, and I couldn’t look away.

"Oh," I breathed. "You’re right. This is way better."

For several minutes, everything else just... faded. It was just me and that sky, the fireworks exploding again and again—beautiful, overwhelming, heartbreakingly brief.

I didn’t notice when Dominic stopped watching them. When I finally turned to say something, the words caught in my throat.

Because he was looking at me. Not the sky. Me.

The fireworks threw shifting colors across his face, but his eyes stayed steady on mine, focused with an expression I’d never seen on him before. Not cold. Not guarded.

My breath hitched.

"What?" I whispered.

He didn’t answer. And he didn’t look away.

The space between us had somehow shrunk to almost nothing. When did we get this close? I could feel the heat radiating off him, cutting right through the bite of December air. My heartbeat was so loud and out of control that I was pretty sure he could hear it, even with all the noise around us.

His hand lifted, brushing along one side of my face. His fingers were chilled from the night air, but the way he touched me was unbelievably gentle.

I leaned in, and his lips met mine. A soft, unhurried kiss. So tender that it caught me completely off guard—I never imagined he could be like this.

No teeth, no force, no desperation. Just warmth and the faint taste of whiskey. Dominic was kissing me like he meant every second of it.

My fingers curled into the front of his shirt, and his hand slipped from my cheek into my hair. Fireworks kept bursting overhead, but all the noise drifted away, until the whole world felt like it had narrowed down to the place where his lips touched mine.

Then a huge golden firework exploded right above us—its flash washed everything in white, and we broke apart. It felt like snapping awake from a dream.

That’s when I heard the hall clock start to chime. Midnight. I immediately shut my eyes. I had one wish—just one. And it wasn’t for me. It was for Dominic.

Please... break his curse. Let him make it through this.

The chimes faded. Before I even opened my eyes, something warm and heavy settled around my shoulders. His coat. It still held his body heat, his scent—pine, cold winter air, and something deeper that I could never quite name.

"It’s getting late," Dominic said, his voice steady, like that kiss hadn’t just turned my world inside out. "We should head back. My mom’s looking for you."

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