Christmas with my Off-Limits Alpha (Feuding Hearts Christmas)

11. Ava Mooney

Ava Mooney

Chapter Eleven

T he aroma wafting from the pastry box is enticing, all butter and cinnamon and mystery, delectable in that way only Mrs. Potter bakes. My stomach grumbles, loudly voicing its displeasure at being forced to wait until Liam arrives to devour the treat.

It’s like she knows this is our last morning of training and wants to make it special. The old baker has an uncanny sense about reading the rhythms of our small town better than anyone.

The crunch of boots on fallen leaves announces his arrival before I see him. Liam emerges from between the trees, his tall frame casting long shadows in the early morning light.

“Starting without me?” He nods toward the box in my hands. His blue eyes sparkle with amusement.

“As if. Though my stomach’s staging quite the protest.” I hold up the box. “Mrs. P out did herself today.”

“She always knows.” He settles down beside me on our usual fallen log. The morning dew still clings to the grass, and the air holds that special stillness that comes just after dawn. The clearing is peaceful this morning, sunlight filtering through the canopy while the two streams bordering it provide gentle background music.

We share the pastries in comfortable silence until Liam wipes his hands and stands. “Ready to work? Or did all that sugar put you in a food coma?”

I roll my eyes and smile, bagging up our trash and stashing it in my backpack to toss out later. Though truthfully, my stomach is doing nervous flips that have nothing to do with breakfast. This is it. Our final training session before the race.

“Please. I’m more charged up than ever.”

Joining him in the clearing, I take a moment to appreciate how the sunlight catches his profile, highlighting the strong line of his jaw and the quiet confidence in his stance. The morning has fully bloomed around us; the warmth chasing away the last wisps of dawn’s chill. He’s magnetic like this—completely at ease in his element, yet carrying a subtle edge of power that marks him as the leader he is. Shit. I want him, want a life with him. But how?

“Show me what you’ve got, little fox.” His voice takes on that patient instructor tone I’ve grown used to over these past weeks.

I close my eyes, putting aside desire and distractions, focusing on the energy swirling within me. Liam’s voice fades into the background as I reach deeper, tapping into something I’ve never felt before. Suddenly, the world shifts.

My eyes snap open. The surrounding meadow is different. My illusion shows a deep blanket of snow covering the ground, icicles hang from bare branches. “Liam, look!” I gasp.

The illusion spreads out before us, like a television screen set up in the middle of the clearing.

His eyes widen. “Ava, you’re doing it. You’re showing us the future.”

The rush of power is intoxicating. I push further, curious to see what else I can do. The snow melts away, replaced by lush green grass and blooming wildflowers. Summer. “This is incredible.” I hold my breath, focused on continuing the vision as the seasons dance around us until finally Autumn leaves again paint the trees in vibrant reds and golds, then fades as I release the vision.

Liam’s face is a mix of awe and pride. “This is a rare ability, Ava. Even among Kitsunés.”

The thrill of discovery courses through me, but it’s quickly followed by a pang of longing. Why didn’t Mom teach me this? The questions I’ll never get to ask her crowd my mind.

“Rare? What does that mean?”

Liam runs a hand through his hair. “It’s hard to say for certain. But this ability to manipulate time and space... it’s powerful. I am more and more convinced you are a Celestial Kitsuné.”

I’ve barely scratched the surface of what I can do. The thought both excites and terrifies me. If only Mom had been here to guide me through this.

“Your mother must have been incredibly powerful,” Liam muses. “To pass on abilities like these.”

I clench my fists, frustration bubbling up. “Then why didn’t she teach me anything? Why leave me in the dark about who I am? And why did she die? Kitsuné can live for centuries.”

Liam’s expression softens. “I don’t know, Ava. But I promise I’ll help you find out.”

I nod, pushing down the ache of unanswered questions. For now, I focus on the newfound power humming through my veins. I may not know exactly what kind of Kitsuné I am, but I’m determined to push my limits and find out.

“Let’s keep going...” I meet Liam’s gaze with fierce tenacity. “After the race. Will you keep working with me? I want to see how far I can push this.”

He grins, a challenge glinting in his eyes. “Alright, fox girl. It’s a deal. We’ll find out what you can do. But let’s call it for today.”

The forest falls silent as Liam and I make our way back to the stream. Snow crunches beneath our feet, the only sound breaking the stillness. We settle on our usual fallen log, our shoulders nearly touching. The rush of water over rocks fills the air, a soothing backdrop to the tension crackling between us.

“You did well today,” Liam says, his voice low and warm. “Your control is improving.”

I nod, a surge of pride coursing through me. “It feels... right. Like I’m finally tapping into a deep layer of power.”

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. Liam’s gaze is intense, searching. I want to look away, but I can’t.

“Ava,” he starts, then pauses. His hand moves, brushing against mine. Electricity shoots up my arm. “There’s something about you... You’re not like anyone I’ve ever known.”

I shouldn’t feel this way. He’s forbidden. The thought flashes through my mind, but it’s quickly drowned out by the warmth spreading through my chest. “I could say the same about you.”

The world narrows to just us, the stream, the snow-covered trees. Everything else fades away. I lean in, drawn by an invisible force.

“The race,” I murmur, trying to redirect my thoughts. “Do you think I’m ready?”

Liam’s thumb traces circles on the back of my hand. “You’re more than ready. But Ava, are you sure about the race? The Iron Wolves…“

“I have to do this,” I interrupt, my voice firm despite the shivers his touch sends through me. “I need to prove myself.”

He nods, understanding in his eyes. “I know.” Frustration edges into his tone. “But you don’t have to do everything alone. Let people in, Ava. Let me in.”

His words hit home, and I feel my resolve crumbling. I turn to face him fully, our knees touching. “I want to,” I whisper. “God, Liam, I want to. But I’m scared. Of what it means, of what could happen. There are so many reasons we should not be together.”

Liam cups my face in his hands, his touch gentle yet electrifying. “Seems to me, some things are worth the risk.”

As he leans in, my doubts and fears melt away. For this moment, there’s only us, the forest, and the promise of something more.

A twig snaps, shattering the moment. I jerk away from Liam, my eyes darting to the source of the sound. Frank, one of Liam’s betas, emerges from the trees, his face a mix of surprise and suspicion.

Shit.

Liam springs to his feet, his body tense. “Frank, what are you doing here?”

Frank’s gaze flicks between us, his brow furrowing. “I could ask you the same thing, Alpha.”

The air thickens with unspoken accusations. I stand, brushing off my jeans, trying to appear nonchalant. But my insides are twisting. Our secret’s out.

“We were discussing strategy for the race,” Liam says, his voice steady. But I catch the slight twitch in his jaw.

Frank’s eyes narrow. “Strategy. Right.”

I bristle at his tone. “Got a problem with that?”

“Ava,” Liam warns, but I ignore him.

Frank turns to me, his gaze hard. “You’re not pack, Ava. This isn’t your business.”

“The hell it isn’t,” I snap. “I’m racing too, or did you forget?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Frank growls. “You shouldn’t be racing.”

My fists clench. The urge to show this wolf what this Kitsuné can do burns through me. But Liam steps between us, his presence a physical barrier.

“Enough,” he commands, and I feel the weight of his alpha status. “Frank, return to the pack. We’ll discuss this later.”

Frank hesitates, his eyes still locked on me. “Liam, the pack won’t-”

“I said we’ll discuss it later.”

The beta’s shoulders slump slightly, but he nods. With one last glare in my direction, he disappears into the trees.

As soon as he’s gone, Liam turns to me. His eyes are stormy, conflicted. “Ava, I…”

“Don’t,” I cut him off. “Don’t you dare apologize for this.”

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched in every line of his face. “You don’t understand. In the pack, we have expectations. Rules.”

“And I’m breaking them?” I challenge.

“It’s not that simple.”

But it is. I’m not pack. I’m not even the right species. And now, thanks to Frank, everyone will know about us. Whatever ‘us’ is.

The reality of it all hits me like a punch to the gut. This thing between Liam and me was never going to be easy. But now? Now it feels impossible.

I take a step back, needing space. “I should go.”

Liam reaches for me, but I dodge his hand. “Ava, please. We need to talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about?” I snap. “Your pack won’t accept me. My family won’t accept you. And let’s not even get started on what the town will think.”

“Since when do you care what anyone thinks?” Liam challenges.

I laugh, but it’s hollow. “I don’t. But you do. You have to. You’re the alpha, remember?”

His face falls, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. But I can’t bring myself to take it back. Because it’s true. Liam has responsibilities, a whole pack depending on him. And me? I’m just a complication.

“I’m not giving up,” Liam says, his voice low and intense. “Not on you, not on us.”

I want to believe him. God, I want to. But the look on Frank’s face, the judgment in his eyes, it’s all too fresh. “Maybe you should,” I whisper.

Before he can respond, I turn and run. I tap into my Kitsuné speed, pushing myself faster than any human, than any shifter, can follow. The trees blur around me as I flee, not just from Liam, but from the reality of what we’re facing.

I don’t stop until I reach the edge of town, my chest heaving. As I slow to a walk, Frank’s words echo in my mind. ‘You’re not pack, Ava.’

No, I’m not. And maybe that’s the problem.