Twelve Nights Before Christmas; The Alpha Revenge Bride

10 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS 

Eve wakes to soft light creeping across the ceiling. The room is still, Lucian must have brought them here after she had passed out asleep in the forest. The fire in the corner burns low, casting orange light across the sheets.

Lucian is beside her, awake but motionless. He rests one arm behind his head, eyes on the ceiling, as if thinking through the day already.

For a moment, she just watches him. His face is relaxed, not the unreadable version everyone else sees.

When he notices her gaze, he turns slightly. "You've been staring for a while."

"I was trying to decide if you actually sleep."

He smiles, faintly. "Sometimes."

She stretches, pulling the blanket up to her chest. "You don't look like someone who rests much."

"Not often." His voice is low, still rough from sleep. "But yesterday was different."

The words hang there. She can feel her cheeks warm, but she doesn't look away. "You mean because of me."

He studies her quietly. "Because of us."

Eve sits up, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. "What happens now? Do I start calling you Alpha Don too?"

Lucian sits up as well, the movement easy, deliberate. "You can call me whatever you like."

"That sounds dangerous."

He gives her that same quiet smile again. "It might be."

For a while, neither of them speaks. The air between them hums with the kind of silence that doesn't need to be filled. Then Lucian reaches for the phone on the nightstand, presses one button, and says, "Bring breakfast here."

Eve tilts her head. "I can walk downstairs."

"You could," he says, "but the pack will be waiting. They'll want to see you. You should be ready."

Her stomach tightens. "You mean they know already?"

"They'll know as soon as they see you." He smirks

The knock comes a few minutes later. Two servers enter quietly, setting down a tray on the small table by the window, coffee, fruit, eggs, and something that looks like roast meat. When they leave, Lucian pours her a cup.

She takes it, still uneasy. "Are they all like this? So... disciplined?"

He nods. "It's what keeps the peace."

Eve sips the coffee, watching him. "And you're their peacekeeper."

"I'm their Alpha. That's not always the same thing."

He says it plainly, without pride or complaint. She sets her cup down. "Does that make me their Luna?"

Lucian looks at her for a long moment. "It makes you mine."

The words send a strange warmth through her. He stands, pulling on his shirt, and glances back at her. "Eat something. Then get dressed. Breakfast with the pack starts at ten."

Eve watches him button his cuffs. "And if I say I'd rather stay here?"

"Then I'd have to convince you otherwise."

She smiles. "You think that's easy?"

"I think you'd let me try."

He leans in, kisses her once, brief but certain, before heading for the door. "Ten o'clock," he says again, and leaves.

Eve sits there for a moment, looking at the empty doorway, the untouched food, the sunlight spilling across the floor. Everything about her life feels unfamiliar now, and somehow, she likes it.

The dining hall is larger than she expected, more like a council chamber than a room for meals. The table stretches almost the length of the floor, covered with silver dishes and strong coffee that fills the air with roasted warmth.

Lucian stands at the head of the table, already speaking quietly with Marco and Dr. Rowan. The conversation stops when Eve enters.

Everyone looks up.

Lucian's eyes find her first. "You're late."

She hesitates, unsure if he's serious. "I didn't realize there was a clock on breakfast."

Marco hides a grin behind his cup. Lucian's mouth curves slightly. "You'll learn."

He gestures toward the seat beside him. "Here."

Eve crosses the room, aware of every glance. Marco, Rowan, and two other lieutenants she doesn't know follow her with polite but assessing eyes. She sits, keeping her posture straight.

Lucian nods to one of the servers. Plates are set in front of her again, this time smaller, eggs, fruit, and a slice of toast she doesn't touch right away.

"Eat," Lucian says quietly.

She picks up her fork. "Are you always this commanding before noon?"

"Only when it works."

That earns a small laugh from Marco. "The Alpha's charming this morning. Must be the weather."

Lucian doesn't look away from Eve. "It's not the weather."

The table goes silent again. Eve focuses on her plate, trying not to blush.

Dr. Rowan clears his throat. "The pack's training numbers are stable. No injuries reported. The border patrols have doubled since last week."

Lucian nods. "Keep them that way. I want eyes on the north perimeter after dusk."

Eve listens, half fascinated. The conversation sounds like business and military rolled together. Orders, reports, coded language. Everyone defers to Lucian without question.

At one point, he leans slightly toward her. "You'll get used to this. It's quieter than it looks."

"I wasn't complaining," she says softly.

"You don't have to. I can read you."

She glances at him, unsure what to say. The way he says it isn't possessive,  it's matter-of-fact, as if he already knows her reactions before she does.

Rowan speaks again, but Eve barely hears. Lucian's hand brushes hers under the table, a small, fleeting touch, gone as soon as it starts. No one else notices.

Her pulse quickens anyway.

A server enters with more coffee, moving carefully between the chairs. The smell mixes with the scent of warm bread and pine from the open window. Eve finally starts to relax, feeling almost comfortable among them.

That's when the doors open.

A woman steps inside, tall and graceful, dressed in a fitted black coat and dark red heels. Her hair is a pale gold that catches the morning light. The same woman from the party before

Lucian's voice is slightly lighter. "Lyra."

Eve turns. The woman smiles, the kind of smile meant to unsettle. "Good morning, Alpha. I hope I'm not interrupting."

"You are," Lucian says, not moving from his seat. "This is a private meeting."

"I heard," Lyra says smoothly, walking closer. "But since when do I need an invitation to see an old friend?"

She stops near the table and looks directly at Eve. "And this must be the new Luna."

Eve stands automatically, unsure what to do. "Eve Moretti."

Lyra's smile doesn't change. "How lovely. I'm Lyra D'Amato. Lucian and I grew up together."

Lucian cuts in, his tone even. "Lyra."

She glances at him, amused. "Relax. I'm only being polite."

The air feels tight. Eve sits again, not trusting her voice. Lyra's presence fills the room, confident and practiced, as if she knows every reaction she causes.

Marco clears his throat. "Perhaps we should continue this later-"

Lucian doesn't move. "That would be best."

Lyra looks at him one last time, then back to Eve. "We'll speak soon. It's what friends do."

Without waiting for permission, she turns and walks out, leaving the faint sound of her heels echoing across the marble floor.

Eve keeps her expression calm, but her stomach twists. Lucian watches the door long after it closes.

"Who is she really?" Eve asks quietly.