Chapter 3- WHAT DID YOU WISH FOR, HOLLY?

~DAMIEN~

Few minutes after Holly and Ella decided to go on a stroll, I decided to go on a stroll too to clear my head of the thoughts of Holly.

Seeing her after a while unsettled me. She's one girl I have always desired, but can't have.

Why?

Because she's way younger. I'm a single father with two kids. And she's my son's best friend.

I can't have anything to do with my son's best friend. It's not right. She should be like a daughter to me. Besides, I don't want to ruin their friendship.

How will my son feel if I eventually fuck his best friend and he finds out?? Not when I know that my son has feelings for her.

Yes, Holly might not know it…but Gabriel is in love with her.

So….no. I can't betray my son that way even though my wolf wants Holly so bad, but I don't want to ruin the relationship with my son. I have no choice than to fight it.

But the thoughts of her, the thoughts of having her wrapped in my arms and kissing her senseless, the thoughts of feeling the warmth of her skin against mine refuses to leave my head…and that is why I'm taking a stroll.

I'm walking leisurely, hands dipped in the pocket of my black coat. My big boots leaves traces on the floor covered with snow.

Then, I feel it…..

My heart starts pounding, my wolf is awake and growling a single word….

Mate.

I instantly feel a strong pull toward something.

My breath hitches as that invisible thread snaps tight around my chest.

Mate.

The word echoes again—deeper, louder, undeniable. My wolf pushes forward, claws scraping against the inside of my skin, desperate. Hungry.

“No,” I whisper, but my voice cracks.

The pull grows stronger, yanking me forward with a force that feels ancient… destined. My heart pounds against my ribs like it wants to escape. I try to resist—turn away, step back—but my feet keep moving.

One step.

Another.

And another.

The world around me blurs. The trees fade. The cold wind brushing against my skin becomes nothing but background noise. All I can focus on is that pull, like my soul is being reeled in by something I can’t see.

My wolf snarls again.

Mate.

I swallow hard, my throat tight, breaths shallow. The air grows warmer, sweeter…the scent wrapping around me slowly. Vanilla. Warm honey. Something soft and intoxicating. A scent I’ve always noticed around her…..always liked too much, but now it hits me with a force that’s almost painful.

“Holly…” I breathe before I can stop myself.

I follow the thread through the trees until the snowy path opens into a small clearing, and that’s where I see her.

She’s standing there alone, a few feet ahead of me, arms wrapped around herself.

Snowflakes kiss her hair, her cheeks flushed from the cold. Her breath fogs the air in soft little puffs. She looks… ethereal. Fragile. Beautiful in a way that makes my chest tighten.

I remember her face when I saw her at the house.

Soft, angelic beauty with warm hazelnut eyes, Long, wavy chestnut-brown hair, Blush-toned lips, and natural glow. She is petite but very curvy in a subtle, feminine way.

She doesn't hear my footsteps or notice me walking to her, until I call her name.

She turns at the sound of my voice.

Her eyes widen when they land on me. And in that instant, the world stops.

The bond snaps into place with a violent, burning clarity.

My wolf howls so loudly inside me I stagger, gripping a nearby tree to steady myself.

Holly’s lips part slightly, confusion and something else flickering across her face. She takes a tiny step toward me instinctively, like she feels it too, even if she doesn’t understand it.

She can't understand it, because she is a human and not a werewolf like me.

The moment her scent washes over me completely, something inside me breaks. Or awakens.

I whisper the word I’ve spent my whole life hoping never to say in a moment like this.

“Mate.”

Her brows knit together.

“Damian? Are you… okay?”

No.

No, I’m not.

And I never will be again.

Because my son’s best friend, the girl I shouldn’t touch, the girl I’ve fought against wanting for years ... .Is standing right in front of me…

And she’s my mate.

~HOLLY~

I'm currently staring at the face of my forbidden obsession.

Alpha Damien.

I had never really believed werewolves existed in real life even though I have seen them in movies—until I met Gabriel and became best friends with him.

We had made a vow not to hide anything from each other, and then he had told me about his family being werewolves.

I had laughed it off and told him he was just making silly jokes till he changed into a big brown wolf right in front of me.

I hadn't believed my eyes, but it was real. My best friend changed into a wolf right in front of me and then changed back to being human.

I was marveled, astonished, and everything seemed to be going well until I met his father–Alpha Damien.

Suddenly, I wanted to experience the feeling of a human like me loving a werewolf like I saw in movies and vice versa.

It was there and then my forbidden obsession for him started.

Now, he's staring at me and he looks unstable.

He’s in a black coat dusted with snowflakes, collar up, hands in his pockets, chest broad beneath the dark wool.

His eyes….God, those eyes…..scan me the way a man looks at something he can’t touch but desperately wants to.

“What are you doing out here alone? Where is Ella” he finally asks, his voice low and rough from the cold… or something else.

My lips part. “I….I just needed some air. And Ella is taking pictures inside the mall.”

His gaze drops briefly to my mouth.

The snow falls slower. The world feels smaller.

And suddenly it’s just the two of us, wrapped in Christmas lights and heavy, unspoken tension.

“You look cold,” he murmurs.

Before I can answer, he steps closer.

Close enough that I can smell his cologne….clean, masculine, expensive.

Close enough that the heat from his body cuts through the winter chill.

He lifts a gloved hand and gently brushes a snowflake from my cheek.

The touch is soft… too soft.

My breath stutters.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he says quietly.

“For me?” My voice cracks.

He doesn’t step back. He doesn’t smile. He just looks at me with that intense, hungry focus that makes my knees feel weak.

“Yes. You left the house so quickly earlier.”

A beat.

“And you didn’t say goodbye properly.”

His thumb traces my jawline….slow, deliberate, as if he’s memorizing the shape of me.

“Damien…” my voice whispers, betraying me.

He hears it. He feels it.

His hand slides beneath my hood, fingers brushing the warm skin at the nape of my neck.

I gasp.

He leans in….not kissing me, not touching my lips, just bringing his mouth close enough that I feel the heat of it, the tease of it, the promise.

“You shouldn’t look at me the way you do,” he says.

My heart pounds.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I immediately deny it.

He exhales a soft, dark laugh.

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean.”

His fingers curl slightly in my hair.

“I see the way you avoid my eyes… and then look again. The way you tense when I walk into a room. The way you stop breathing when I stand close.”

I’m trembling, and he notices.

“Tell me, Holly…” he murmurs. “…what were you writing in that Santa letter?”

My entire body turns liquid.

“You saw me?” I choke out.

“No, I just guessed,” he teases darkly. “But from your reaction, I guess I was right. I would have loved to see you sitting in that little booth… biting your lip while you wrote something you hoped no one would ever read.”

I swallow hard.

“Damien….”

He steps closer until my back is pressed gently against the brick wall of the booth outside.

His chest brushes mine. His breath warms my cheek.

“I shouldn’t ask,” he says, voice low, voice sinful.

“But I can’t stop thinking about it.”

His fingers tilt my chin upward.

“What did you wish for, Holly?”

My knees shake. My lips tremble.

And I whisper the truth…..

“You.”