Chapter 22 Reindeer Games
Reindeer Games
Icrossed my arms, stomping my feet in place to get blood flowing back to my toes.
Cole and Kip had vanished five minutes ago with mysterious grins and instructions to “wait right here” while they “prepared the learning environment.” Which, based on previous experience, could mean anything from gathering harmless pinecones to setting up an elaborate Christmas-themed deathtrap.
Kip reappeared first, trudging through the snow, pulling three sleds on a rope behind him. “Training location secured! Follow me, Ice Princess.”
I glared at the nickname but trudged after him. “If this involves sacrificing me to the winter gods, I’d like to point out that my father could technically be considered one, and he probably wouldn’t appreciate it.”
Cole materialized from between two pine trees. “No sacrifices today. Just hands-on joy training.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly strained something. “Joy training? Did you get that from a holiday self-help book?”
Kip’s laughter echoed through the trees as we rounded a bend and emerged into a clearing. Unlike our previous training ground, this one featured several large snow mounds, a handful of towering pine trees, and what appeared to be the start of a crude snow track.
Cole started to untie the sleds. “Magic flows best through authentic emotion. You can’t force joy, but you can create conditions where it naturally occurs.”
“Like a snow obstacle course?” I eyed the clearing dubiously.
Kip’s face lit up. “Exactly like that! But for our first activity, we’ll make snow angels.”
He flopped backward into the snow, arms and legs moving in perfect synchronicity. When he stood, brushing powder from his ass, a perfect angel impression remained; except this one had wings that curved like actual feathers and a detailed halo.
Cole nodded toward the snow. “Your turn.”
“I hate to break it to you, but snow angels aren’t exactly joy-inducing for most adults.”
Kip clutched invisible pearls. “Blasphemy! Snow angels are timeless.”
I sighed, looking between their expectant faces. “Fine. One snow angel coming right up.”
I fell backward, the snow cushioning my fall. For a moment, I just lay there, staring up at the sky. Then I moved my arms and legs, feeling utterly ridiculous yet somehow lighter.
When I stood, I expected to see a misshapen snow depression, but my angel had delicate patterns radiating from where my head had been, and the wings sparkled with a bluish tint that definitely wasn’t natural.
Cole’s eyebrows shot up. “See? You didn’t even try to use magic.”
“But that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” I brushed the snow from my pants. “My magic just does whatever it wants, whenever it wants.”
“But there aren’t any snow monsters coming after us.” Kip rubbed his hands together. “Let’s take things up a notch with sled races.”
He grabbed a wooden sled and positioned it at the top of the largest snow mound, which sloped into a curve. “Fastest one wins. Loser has to…” He rubbed his chin.
“Build a snowman naked?” I suggested with faux innocence.
Cole choked on air while Kip’s eyes widened with delight. “I was going to say the loser has to make hot chocolate for everyone, but your stakes are much better.”
Cole cleared his throat and conjured a stopwatch. “Let’s stick with hot chocolate for now.”
I shrugged, climbing onto the sled. “Your loss.”
My first run ended with me face-planting into a snowdrift after misjudging the curve.
Cole’s turn ended with him sliding off course and nearly taking out a small pine tree.
By the time Kip went, I was laughing so hard my sides hurt, especially when he hit a hidden bump and went airborne, landing with a theatrical yelp and a flurry of snow.
“Cheater!” Kip accused when I went for my third run. “You used magic to smooth your path.”
I held up my hands. “I did not! And even if I did, it would be a sign of progress, so you should congratulate me.”
Cole nodded toward my hands. “Speaking of progress...”
I followed his gaze to find tiny silver-blue sparks dancing between my fingers, like miniature stars orbiting my palms. “Oh!”
The sparks faded as soon as I noticed them, but the warm hum of power still flowed through me.
Kip ran his fingers through his hair, knocking snow free. “See? Fun equals magic. Now for the real fun: a snowman decorating competition!”
I groaned. “I don’t know how to make a snowman.”
“We’ll build them together first.” Cole started to pack snow into a mound.
Thirty minutes and ten frozen fingers later, three snowmen sat lined up next to each other.
Cole gestured to the area around us, including the trees.
“I’ve placed objects to decorate the snowmen within shouting distance.
You each get two buttons for eyes, half a carrot for the nose, and you need at least six rocks or pebbles for the mouth.
There’s one scarf that can only be retrieved when everything else is in place on your snowman. ”
I narrowed my eyes. “But you put all the items out there, so how is that fair?”
Cole rubbed the back of his neck, seeming not to have considered that issue. “You two can have a two-minute head start, and I can only walk.”
I looked at his legs. “You have like nine inches on me. I think it’s only fair that you can only hop like a bunny.”
Kip doubled over with laughter. “Oh, this is great.”
“You too.” I walked backward toward the trees Cole had emerged from earlier. “And I get a one-minute head start on you.”
Before they could argue, I turned and ran, my eyes scanning the snow for objects. The first thing I spotted was a red scarf hanging from the branch of a tree, and it killed me not to grab it, but rules were rules.
Thankfully, most of the objects needed were easy to spot, and soon I was filling my pockets with the required items.
Cole hopped like a deranged rabbit, his massive frame bouncing ridiculously high with each leap. Kip wasn’t much better, his cheeks flushed with effort as he bounded along. Every time he hopped past a tree and nearly took out a branch with his head, I wheezed with laughter.
Soon, I was back at my snowman, placing the final pebble into its lopsided grin. It looked like it had survived a small avalanche, but technically, it met all requirements.
Kip jammed his last rock into place at the exact moment Cole did.
All three of us froze, exchanging glances that clearly communicated the same thought: That scarf is mine.
I had a split second to register their shared look before both men abandoned their rabbit personas. They took off sprinting toward the red scarf hanging from the distant pine branch, snow flying in their wake.
“Hey!” I took off after them, pumping my arms and legs with all the stamina I had left.
Cole reached the tree first, his fingers brushing the fabric as Kip crashed into him, sending them both stumbling sideways. I skidded to a halt behind them, watching as they playfully grappled, each trying to reach the scarf while blocking the other.
It dangled above them, and without thinking, I raised my hand, focused on the red fabric, and felt my fingers tingle. The scarf untangled itself from the branch and floated into my waiting palm.
Both men stopped wrestling to stare at me.
I blinked at the scarf in my hand, then at their shocked faces, and made the only reasonable decision—I ran.
“That’s cheating!” Kip’s indignant cry followed me as I dashed back toward our snowmen, the scarf trailing behind me like a victory banner.
Heavy footsteps crunched through the snow as they gave chase. I wove between the trees, laughing as I heard them cursing behind me. My heart pounded, not with anxiety or fear, but with genuine excitement.
I reached my snowman and triumphantly wrapped the scarf around its neck, turning as Cole and Kip stumbled to a stop, faces flushed and eyes bright.
“Victory is mine, reindeer boys!” I struck a dramatic pose beside my snowman, one hand on my hip, the other patting its scarf-adorned neck.
I barely had time to gloat before the magic took on a life of its own. The sparks weren’t just dancing around my fingers anymore; they were everywhere, creating a shimmering aura around me and my snowman. It was beautiful and controlled and exactly what I’d been trying to achieve all day.
The sparks danced around me, and for once, it wasn’t scary or overwhelming; it was beautiful.
Kip’s eyes widened, tracking the blue lights. “Holy shit, you’re doing it!”
Cole’s expression softened with pride. “Joy was the key.”
The magic pulsed brighter, the sensation like champagne bubbles fizzing through my bloodstream. Before I could respond, Kip rushed forward, scooping me into his arms and spinning me in a dizzying circle.
“You’re a natural!” He whirled me around, my feet lifting off the ground as snowflakes swirled in our wake.
My hands gripped his shoulders for balance, and when he set me down, his face was inches from mine, eyes dancing with the reflected light of my magic. Neither of us moved for a heartbeat.
I’m not sure who closed the distance first, but suddenly Kip’s mouth was on mine, his lips cold from the winter air but quickly warming against my own.
When we broke apart, Cole stood watching us, his eyes dark with intensity. The surrounding temperature shifted, and the snow beneath our feet melted, steam rising in wisps around our ankles.
Kip’s fingers traced my jawline. “I think we’ve found an even better way to channel your joy.”
Cole stepped closer, the three of us forming a triangle in the middle of the winter wonderland. He cupped the back of my neck, his thumb stroking behind my ear in a way that made me shiver.
I rose onto my toes, claiming his mouth with mine. His kiss was commanding in a way that made my knees weak.
Kip’s hands found my waist, his chest pressing against my back as Cole continued to kiss me. I was sandwiched between them, surrounded by their warmth.
“Your leggings are getting wet.” Kip’s fingers toyed with the waistband.