Christmas Miraculous

{MATURE — mid slow burn with yearning MMC. Knotting, claiming, mate frenzy and rutting. Check the trigger warnings. The FMC is a plus-size woman who insecure about her body, but as the book progresses, she'll learn to love herself.} ✧ SNIPPET ✧ My body hummed with desire as I tilted my head. "Fuck, you smell so good, sweetheart." He nipped at my jaw, his voice rough and primal. "I want to pound you so hard, knot you, and breed you with our pups." I gasped, clutching his shirt. "What are you waiting for? " I whispered. "Claim me. Mark me. And make me yours." His eyes flashed, and a growl rumbled through him. "Careful, sweetheart. Once I claim you, you'll be mine—body, heart, and soul." "Then take me." ~**~ Christmas was meant to be magical—yet for Rosie Martinez, it became the night her world ended. A cruel bet. A viral video. A betrayal that left her reputation in ruins. Desperate to breathe again, Rosie runs to a quiet mountain town where no one knows her name—where she hopes she can disappear. She didn't expect him. Jude Winters—hockey captain, future Alpha of the Winters Pack, and the stranger who saved her in the snow. The moment he touched her, he knew. Mate. His. Forever. Rosie has no idea what she is to him. No clue about the supernatural world hidden beneath this frozen town. She only feels the way her body awakens around him… and the way he watches her like she's the only woman he's ever wanted. But when her past crashes into their peaceful relationship—threatening the one person he cares about—Jude's control snaps. And Rosie learns the truth: Wolves are real. Mates are fated. And she's his. And Jude Winters will burn the world before he lets anyone take her away.

On Christmas Eve, my father got the man I had secretly loved for ten years drunk and sent him to my bed. When I woke up the next morning, Roy pulled away from my attempt at a good-morning kiss. His voice was cold and distant as he agreed to marry me. After the wedding, Roy wasted no time submitting a transfer request. He took an overseas post and left. He did not return for five years. I gave birth to our daughter, Eve, alone and waited for him to come back home. When I heard that Roy had finally applied to return to a domestic position, I was overjoyed. I spent days preparing, imagining our first reunion as husband and wife. But even when the clock struck midnight, he still hadn't come home. Our daughter, ever so thoughtful, placed her most treasured possession—a photograph of Roy—into my hands. "Don't cry, Mommy," she said softly. "Look, Daddy's right here." I tried to convince myself that his absence was due to a delayed flight. But later that night, while watching the news, I saw him. He was on a crowded city street, holding a young girl in his arms. Beside him stood a woman, her smile soft and warm. Facing the camera, Roy said, "Being with them is my greatest wish." At that moment, something inside me broke. I wrote up the divorce papers, packed our things, and planned to take Eve to change her identity. I didn't want him anymore. The day before we left, a man I had never met came to see me. He was Roy's father. "You could call me Dad," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But I'd rather you call me Ryan." I told him everything about the past five years—how I had waited, how I had hoped. When I finished, he laughed softly, an unusual warmth in his voice. "If it was just business," he said, "perhaps your father should have tied a bow around me and sent me to your bed instead. But I hold my liquor well—if I ever end up wrapped in a bow, you can be sure it's by choice."