A FATED CHRISTMAS REDEMPTION

Joyce's POV

I stood behind the counter of Pine Ridge Books, watching the snow fall outside the window. Christmas was three weeks away, and the whole town had transformed into a winter wonderland. Red and green lights hung from every storefront. The massive pine tree in the town square sparkled with a thousand tiny bulbs.

But I felt nothing except the weight of the rejection letter in my pocket.

We regret to inform you that we cannot offer you admission to the Graduate Writing Program at this time.

Five years of night classes. Five years of pouring my pain into words, thinking maybe I could turn my broken heart into something beautiful. And for what? Another rejection.

I laughed bitterly at the irony. Rejection seemed to be my speciality.

"Joyce, are you listening to me?" Harper waved her hand in front of my face. She had been my best friend since kindergarten and worked here with me at the bookstore.

I blinked. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

She leaned against the counter, her dark eyes studying me with concern. "I was asking if you've thought about Taylor's invitation to the Christmas Eve bonfire."

Taylor Montgomery. The pack's beta. Handsome, kind, stable. He'd been asking me out for six months now with the patience of a saint. Any woman would be lucky to have him.

But when I looked at him, I felt nothing. No spark. No pull. Just... emptiness.

"I haven't decided yet," I said, returning to the display of holiday romance novels I was arranging. The irony of shelving happily-ever-afters wasn't lost on me.

Harper's voice softened. "Joyce, you haven't given anyone a real chance since Dalton left. That was five years ago."

The name hit me like a fist to the chest. Dalton Grey. The alpha's son. The boy who had grown up next door to me. The boy who shattered my world on my eighteenth birthday and vanished without a trace.

"I don't want to talk about Dalton." I kept my voice steady. I had practised keeping it constant for five years. I had practised functioning with a hole in my chest where my soul was supposed to be.

The mate bond didn't care that he rejected me. It didn't fade or disappear. It just sat there, a constant ache, reminding me every single day that my other half was out there somewhere, living his life without me.

Harper held up her hands in surrender. "Fine. But you're coming to the bonfire. I'm not taking no for an answer."

The bell above the door chimed. Mrs Patterson walked in, her silver hair covered in snowflakes. She was the oldest wolf in our pack and one of my favourite customers.

"Joyce, dear, I'm looking for that book about the history of our pack. The one with the leather binding."

I knew exactly which book she meant. "I have it in the back. Let me get it for you."

When I returned with the heavy volume, Mrs Patterson was examining the display of holiday romances with a knowing smile.

"You know," she said, "my mate proposed to me on Christmas Eve. Right there in the town square, under the big pine tree."

I had heard this story a dozen times, but I never interrupted her. There was something comforting about hearing proof that happy endings existed, even if I would never have one.

"That's beautiful," I said, setting the book on the counter.

She looked at me with sharp eyes that saw too much. "We had been through hell to get there. He rejected me at first. Said I wasn't suitable for the alpha's younger brother. I was just a teacher's daughter, you see. Not high-born enough."

My hands stilled on the book. "How did you know he really meant it when he came back?"

"Because he showed me with his actions, not just his words." She patted my hand. "He courted me for three months. Brought me flowers every day. Sat through my father's lectures about honour and commitment. He learned to make my mother's favourite tea cake, even though he burned six batches before getting it right." She smiled at the memory. "Some wolves take longer to understand what they have, dear. The question is whether you're willing to wait for them to figure it out. And whether they're willing to prove they've changed."

Before I could respond, the door burst open. My sister Megan rushed in, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold and something else. Excitement. Fear. I couldn't tell which.

"Joyce!" She grabbed the counter, breathless. "You'll never believe who's back in town!"

My heart stopped. I knew before she said it. I knew the way you know a storm is coming before the first rumble of thunder. The mate bond had been restless all morning, pulling at my chest like a hook behind my ribs.

"Who?" My voice came out as a whisper.

Megan grabbed my hands, her grip almost painful. "Dalton Grey. He's back. And he's the new alpha."

The floor tilted beneath my feet. Harper grabbed my arm to steady me.

"That's impossible," I managed. "His father is still alive. Alpha Grey would never step down early."

"He stepped down this morning. They called a special council meeting at dawn. Dalton took over the leadership an hour ago." Megan's eyes were wide. "He's already moved into the alpha's house."

The alpha's house. Three doors down from mine. I would see him every day. Every single day.

My carefully constructed life, the one I built from the ruins he left behind, was crumbling.

"There's more." Megan leaned closer, lowering her voice even though only Harper and Mrs Patterson could hear. "He's been asking about you, Joyce. He went to the diner first thing this morning and asked where you work."

"Why would he be looking for me?" I pulled my hands away, my voice sharper than intended. "He made it very clear five years ago that he wanted nothing to do with me."

The memory crashed over me like ice water.

We had been standing in the snow behind his house at midnight on my eighteenth birthday. The moment our mate bond was supposed to activate and make everything official.

I had felt it the second the clock struck twelve. My soul reached out toward him like a flower turning toward the sun. My wolf had howled with pure joy inside me, finally recognising her other half.

But Dalton's face had gone pale. He stepped back from me as if I had burned him.

And then he said the words that destroyed me.

I reject you, Joyce. You could never be my luna. You're too weak. Too ordinary. I need someone stronger.

"Joyce, you're shaking," Harper said, squeezing my arm.

I looked down at my hands. She was right. Five years, and his name still had this power over me.

"I need some air." I grabbed my coat from the hook behind the counter. "Can you handle things here?"

Harper nodded, worry creasing her forehead. "Take all the time you need."

I pushed through the door into the freezing afternoon. The cold hit my face and I welcomed it.

I walked toward the town square without thinking, my boots crunching in the fresh snow. The massive pine tree towered above everything. Children ran around its base, throwing snowballs and laughing.

I stopped at the edge of the square and closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the tightness in my chest. The mate bond pulled hard, a compass pointing toward something I couldn't have.

"Joyce."

That voice. Deep and rough and achingly familiar.

I opened my eyes.

Dalton Grey stood ten feet away, and suddenly I couldn't breathe for an entirely different reason.