Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Sylvie
“Absolutely not,” Kenai repeated for the third time, pacing the length of the chalet’s main room. “It’s too dangerous, Sylvie. Your heat may be ending, but your scent is still strong enough to attract attention.”
I crossed my arms, watching him wear a path in the wooden floor. “Kenai, I can’t make legal arguments based on secondhand information. I need to see the working conditions myself, and understand the full scope of what we’re dealing with.”
“She’s right,” Taimyr said quietly from his position by the window. “Reading reports and hearing stories isn’t the same as witnessing exploitation firsthand. And if she’s going to represent the clans, she needs to understand what we’re facing.”
Kenai stopped pacing and turned to glare at his mate. “Whose side are you on?”
“Hers,” Taimyr replied without hesitation. “Which should be your side too. She’s the expert.”
Through our connection, I could feel Kenai’s frustration warring with his protective instincts. The alpha in him wanted to keep me safe and hidden until my heat scent faded completely. But the part of him that had been fighting for his people’s rights for years knew I was right.
“Besides, she’s drenched in our scent. There’s no way anyone will think she’s human,” Taimyr added, and I blushed at that. He noticed and ran his thumb over the back of my thigh. That did not help the situation.
Kenai’s nostrils flared. “Cut that out. No, she’s still too close to heat—”
“To Kenai’s point, I don’t have antlers,” I noted.
They both looked at each other.
“Kenai can take care of that,” Taimyr countered.
“But I’m not going to.”
“Yes, you are.” Taimyr stood up, his long hair rippling as he shook his head. “When did I become the reckless one?” He cupped Kenai’s face in his hand. “You can disguise her with your magic and keep her safe. I know you can.”
Kenai melted into Taimyr’s touch. “You always have so much faith in me.”
“You’ve earned it.” Taimyr smiled, then pulled Kenai into a deep kiss, which the slighter man returned instantly, hands wrapping around Taimyr’s waist.
“Cut that out! Christmas is only a few days away—we don’t have time for more…distractions,” I said, my nipples hardening to the point of pain.
“Who’s getting distracted?” Kenai teased with an innocent grin but opened one arm to invite me between them. Well, I couldn’t say no to that.
I nestled between them, their strong arms cocooning me. It felt so good to have them there—grounding me, when for so long I’d felt like I was barely keeping my head above water.
“There’s a logistics center about forty miles north of here,” Taimyr continued. “They’re deep in pre-Christmas preparations. All the subspecies will be there, getting their assignments for Christmas Eve deliveries. If Sylvie could see that…”
“She’d understand exactly what we’re up against,” Kenai finished grimly. “Fine. But at the first sign of trouble—”
“We leave immediately,” I agreed. “But Kenai, I need you to trust me on this. I’ve been investigating labor violations for years. I know how to observe without being noticed.”
His silver eyes searched my face. “It’s not your investigative skills I’m worried about. It’s every unmated alpha who’s going to catch your scent and lose his mind.”
“But I’m mated to you two now.”
Kenai grinned. “That you are.” He pulled me into a kiss, and I could still taste Taimyr on his lips. My mind went hazy, and my hands found the gap between his shirt and pants, warm bare skin beneath—
“Okay! Enough, you two. Kenai, focus that energy on glamouring Sylvie.”
Kenai let out a disappointed huff but stepped back. His mouth flattened in concentration as Taimyr handed me a hair tie.
I pulled my hair into a corporate-approved bun and felt the soft snowflakes of Kenai’s magic kiss my cheeks as they swirled up and over my head. His brow furrowed, and then, with a long exhale, he dropped his hands.
I reached up—and my fingers brushed the velvety surface of brand-new antlers.
“How do I look?” I gave a little spin for them.
“Absolutely stunning—which is going to be a problem,” Taimyr muttered.
Kenai nodded in agreement and scurried off to his room, returning a moment later with the ugliest black logoed polo I’d ever seen.
“You can’t be serious,” I said, holding it in front of me between two fingers like it might infect me.
“Afraid so, gorgeous,” Taimyr replied, laughing.
Thirty minutes later, I was dressed in said oversized polo, hidden beneath a thick, generic puffer coat as I stepped outside the chalet and into the afternoon light.
“You want me to ride on your back,” I said flatly, staring at Taimyr in his shifted form, “while you’re flying. Through the air.”
Taimyr, now a magnificent Siberian tundra reindeer with a dark brown coat and impressive antlers, somehow managed to look patient despite his inability to speak in this form.
He was larger than Kenai’s reindeer—stockier, built for endurance and power.
His antlers were broader and darker. I knew it was him by his dark, smirking eyes, but the idea of climbing onto his back for flight still seemed completely insane—especially for this subway-riding city girl.
Kenai, still in human form to communicate, rubbed my shoulders gently. “Flying with Taimyr is the only way to get there without leaving tracks or scent trails that others can follow.”
“But what if I fall off? What if the wind’s too strong? What if—”
Taimyr made a soft chuffing sound that somehow conveyed both amusement and mild offense.
“He’s the strongest flier among the Siberian herd—probably the entire North Pole,” Kenai replied dryly.
“He can carry twice your weight through arctic storms. I think he can handle one nervous omega on a calm day.” He leaned around me and nipped at my neck.
“Don’t tell me our big, brave lawyer is afraid to fly? ”
“It’s not calm, there’s wind, and I’ve never—” I stopped myself, realizing I was being ridiculous. “Okay. Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting both of you.”
With Kenai’s help, I managed to climb onto Taimyr’s back, gripping his thick coat with both hands. The moment I settled into position, I could feel the incredible muscle underneath me—the coiled power waiting to be unleashed.
Taimyr rose smoothly to his feet and moved to the edge of the cliff beside the chalet. Looking down at the drop made my stomach lurch.
“Oh god,” I whispered. “Let me off. I’m sure I could walk there—”
But then Taimyr’s powerful legs bunched, and we were airborne.
The first few seconds were pure terror. The ground fell away beneath us, wind whipped through my hair, and I was certain I was going to slide off and plummet to my death.
But Taimyr’s flight was remarkably smooth—his body moved with the air currents rather than fighting them, and I gradually realized he had complete control.
And then something magical happened.
As we soared over the snow-covered peaks, climbing higher than I’d ever been without an airplane, I stopped being afraid and started being amazed.
The world spread out below like a winter wonderland—pristine valleys, ancient forests, mountains that stretched to the horizon.
And I was flying through it all on the back of a magical reindeer.
Through our bond, I felt Taimyr’s joy at sharing this with me—his pride in his flying abilities, his contentment at having me with him in his element.
The wind carried us effortlessly, and for the first time I saw Taimyr’s brand of winter magic.
Not flashy like Kenai’s, but subtle and controlled—the wind and sky bending to his will.
“This is incredible!” I called out, and felt his answering rumble of pleasure vibrate through his chest.
The wind grew colder, and a flurry of snowflakes surrounded Kenai as he joined us in the sky. His white fur sparkled in the sun, although his flight was…considerably more erratic than Taimyr’s.
We flew for what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, covering ground that would’ve taken hours on foot in mere minutes.
Taimyr’s endurance was remarkable—his breathing stayed steady, his flight path never wavered.
I began to understand why the Siberian clan was so valued for the longest routes.
Finally, we began to descend toward a ridge overlooking a broad valley. As we landed gracefully on a rocky outcrop, Kenai touched down beside us, a puff of snow rising with his less-than-controlled landing.
Taimyr huffed at him as he lowered down to let me off. Kenai shifted back into his human form, snow still clinging to his hair.
“And that’s why you carried her,” he said dryly, though affection softened his tone. I walked over to him and flicked the snow from his bangs.
Taimyr shifted back to human form, and I turned toward him, stroking my fingers along his cheek. “That was…the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.”
He gave me a surprisingly shy smile before planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“Wait until you see this,” Kenai said grimly, pointing to the valley below.
I looked down—and my heart sank, but for entirely different reasons than I’d expected.
The valley had been transformed into what looked like a modern corporate campus. Sterile buildings dotted the landscape, connected by well-maintained paths. Solar panels glinted on rooftops as employees bustled between them. Everything was organized and utterly civilized.
And somehow, that made it worse.
“It looks so…normal,” I breathed, confusion in my voice.
“That’s the point,” Taimyr replied, coming to stand beside me. “Santa’s operation isn’t some Dickensian nightmare. It’s a modern corporation—built on magic instead of money.”
I watched as reindeer in both human and shifted forms scurried between buildings, their movements hurried and tense, the Christmas deadline looming. They wore uniforms—polos and coats with the North Pole logo, just like mine.
To an outsider, it might’ve looked like a well-organized, even idyllic workplace. But I knew better.