Chapter 8
Eight
Holly
The next morning, I stand alone in my bakery, holding the snow globe. I look around, taking it all in. Am I ready to walk away from this? From Evergreen Valley? I like my life here. Mostly. Sometimes.
But I can’t deny that what Nick’s offering me feels like…more. It feels important. Destined in a way that should scare me, but it doesn’t. It makes me want to run towards Nick, not away from him.
My body is still humming from everything that happened yesterday, but our connection is already more than physical. He’s sweet, and tender, and a little mysterious. I don’t know him—he’s practically a stranger—and yet it feels as though I’ve always known him. He feels familiar, not foreign.
I want him, in every single way.
I barely slept last night, turning everything over and over in my mind. Tracing hypothetical paths—a life in the North Pole, a life here in Evergreen Valley.
My heart pounds, hard and fast, as I look at the snow globe, and I remember the way Nick told me he loved me.
That he prayed I’d choose him and a magical life together in the North Pole.
I take a deep breath, then another, my hands shaking slightly.
I shift, making my sweater pull tight against my breasts, which are already full and tingling again in a way that makes me wet.
My nipples ache, desperate for Nick’s mouth, for the milking machine.
I peer into the snow globe, studying the Winter Palace.
Then I close my eyes, and a vision of Nick fills my mind.
Nick, with his flowing silvery hair and beard, his icy blue eyes tinged with gold, his broad shoulders and wide chest. And when I think about him, I realize that my heart feels more full than I ever thought possible.
I know what I want. Who I want. I’m ready.
I take a breath and shake the snow globe.
There’s a sudden swirl of frost and golden glitter, a gust of sharp, icy air, and then he’s here, in my bakery. Frost patterns bloom across the bakery’s windows, and Nick’s cedar and mint smell fills the air.
My heart thumps happily in my chest at the sight of him, tall and wide, his silver hair falling around his shoulders, his beard neatly groomed.
Snowflakes cling to his shoulders, as if he ran through the snow to get here.
His chest rises fast beneath his dark red coat, hands flexing into fists at his sides, as though he’s stopping himself from reaching for me.
Our eyes meet, my heart stuttering at the hunger and possession I can feel in his gaze. The love.
A slow grin spreads across his face, making little lines fan out around his eyes. “Holly.” I can hear the emotion in his voice, the hope.
I step towards him, my legs a little shaky, the floor creaking softly beneath me. I clutch the snow globe, gripping it so hard that the tips of my fingers ache. My chest is tight, as if the words I need to say are pressing against my ribs, desperate and eager to burst free.
“I want to be yours.” My voice cracks, but I don’t care. “I choose you. I choose us. I want the magic. I want you.” Another step. Nick looks like he isn’t even breathing, he’s so still. “And I want to give you all of me. My milk, my magic, my heart.”
He moves closer, hands sliding around my waist. “Those are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard, little one,” he says, his voice quiet, rough. “Tell me again.”
“I choose you, Nick. I…” I swallow, and he’s looking at me with such utter devotion that I never want this moment to end. “I love you.”
Nick’s huge hands cup my face, his thumbs brushing my cheekbones with an aching tenderness. His breath is warm against my lips, and when he finally kisses me, it’s soft and slow. Unhurried. A promise and a beginning, all in one.
I sway into him, my fingers curling into the front of his coat.
His beard rasps against my skin, his lips firm and warm as they coax mine open.
The kiss deepens, his tongue sliding against mine, and something inside me starts to unravel.
My nipples tighten, aching, and then my milk starts to leak, soaking into the fabric of my sweater.
Nick groans into my mouth, his fingers threading into my hair. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice thick with emotion. “My queen. My Winter Maiden. Mine.”
The air around us shimmers, snowflakes spiraling lazily from the ceiling, catching the light like sequins.
The scent of cinnamon and sugar wraps around us, the magic in the air palpable.
Nick’s hands slide down, one palming my breast through my sweater, his thumb circling my nipple.
I whimper, arching into his touch, and he swallows the sound with another kiss, this one dirty, his tongue fucking into my mouth like he owns it.
He breaks the kiss with a pained groan. “I can’t wait to drink from you while I’m inside you, little one,” he whispers, his forehead pressed to mine. “To claim you, fully and completely.”
I nod, my body lighting up at his words. I want that too, so very badly.
“Are you ready?” he asks, stroking his thumbs over my cheeks. I nod, fingers still curled in his coat. “Then let’s go home.” He lifts one hand and snaps his fingers, and we’re enveloped in a swirl of snow flakes, sleigh bells jingling as my mate whisks us to the North Pole.