Chapter 23 Holy Nutcracker
Holy Nutcracker
Istood in Dane’s closet, glaring at the explosion of festive clothing the men had gifted me. The hangers seemed to mock me with their abundance of reds, greens, and sparkly fabrics, each item more obnoxiously Christmassy than the last.
My fingers kept betraying me by drifting toward a pair of red fleece leggings with tiny silver sparkles woven into the fabric. They looked like something an elf on a bender would design after a three-day eggnog binge.
And yet.
I rubbed the fabric between my thumb and forefinger. The damn things were impossibly soft. The kind of soft that made me question my entire stance on Christmas clothing.
I yanked the leggings off the hanger and grabbed a cream sweater covered in candy canes that formed hearts with their curved tops.
It was equal parts adorable and nauseating.
My pride screamed in protest, but I slid into the leggings anyway.
The sweater followed, settling around me in a warm hug that smelled faintly of cinnamon.
I hated how much I loved it.
When I emerged from the closet, Dane looked up from where he sat on the bed, a crochet hook moving between his fingers as he worked on a hat. His eyes widened, traveling from my sparkly leggings to the candy cane hearts hugging my torso.
A low whistle escaped his lips. “Well, ho ho ho. Looks like Christmas came early this year.”
I flipped him off, fighting the smile threatening to betray me. “One more Christmas pun and I’m shoving that crochet hook somewhere festive.”
The bathroom door swung open in a cloud of steam as Dash emerged, a towel slung low on his hips. Water droplets clung to the defined muscles of his chest, catching the light as he moved. My mouth went dry.
“Are we ready to head into Reinberg?” His eyes landed on me, a smile tugging at his lips. “Christmas spirit looks good on you, Neve.”
I tugged at the hem of my sweater. “Don’t get used to it. This is purely practical.”
Dane set his crocheting aside, stretching his long limbs like a satisfied cat. “Sure it is. Just like humming that Christmas song while doing the dishes last night was purely practical.”
I rolled my eyes, reaching up to run my fingers through my hair. The silver strands slipped between my fingers like liquid mercury, catching the light in a way that made them almost glow. The black was completely gone.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I examined the ends. “The universe couldn’t let me keep this one little piece of myself, could it?”
Dash disappeared back into the bathroom, returning with my hairbrush. “Your hair is beautiful either way. It reminds me of starlight.”
I scoffed, though the compliment warmed something deep inside me. “It’s like I aged sixty years overnight.”
Dane hopped off the bed, moving to stand behind me. His fingers joined mine in my hair, gently separating the strands. “This isn’t gray; it’s a manifestation of your magic.”
Dash approached, the brush held between his fingers like an offering. “Let me braid it for you.”
I blinked, surprised. “You know how to braid hair?”
A hint of a smile softened his features. “I have three sisters.”
“Fine.” I perched on the edge of the bed, shoulders relaxing as Dash positioned himself behind me.
There was something incredibly intimate about him doing my hair, and I quickly forgot that one of the last pieces of my previous life had disappeared overnight. I’d fought so hard against the change, but since being in Klarhaven, it felt like the missing pieces of myself were falling into place.
Thirty minutes later, I stood frozen at the entrance to Reinberg’s main square, my senses assaulted from every direction.
Overhead, star-shaped lanterns hung between booths on nearly invisible silver wire, casting a warm light across the cobblestone streets.
Holiday music drifted from hidden speakers, creating a gentle background to the bustling crowd.
“It’s like Santa threw up all over this place.” I tugged my borrowed hat lower over my ears, trying to create some barrier between me and the sensory overload.
Dash’s hand found the small of my back, guiding me forward with gentle pressure. “You’ll adjust. Take a deep breath.”
I did so reluctantly and immediately regretted it. The air was thick with scents that made me ache with familiarity.
Dane’s eyes were bright with childlike enthusiasm. “This is nothing compared to the real North Pole, but it’s the closest humans get. Their joy helps feed your father’s magic.”
“That’s not exactly a selling point for the North Pole.” I crossed my arms over my candy cane sweater, trying to ignore how perfectly the festive atmosphere matched my outfit.
A group of children darted past us, their laughter ringing like bells in the crisp air. One small girl with pigtails spun in circles, arms outstretched as she tried to catch paper snowflakes falling from a nearby stall’s mechanical snow machine.
Something shifted in my chest at the sight; a tiny crack in the wall I’d built against all things festive.
Dash noticed, his eyes catching mine with quiet understanding. “Come on. I know a shortcut to the best part.”
We moved deeper into the market, Dane leading the way with easy charm.
He exchanged cheerful greetings with vendors, stopping occasionally to chat.
Like the last time I’d been in Reinberg, I didn’t miss how some people froze when they spotted me, their eyes widening in silent recognition before they recovered.
“I can’t decide if these people are scared of me or think I’m royalty.” I hissed after the third vendor nearly dropped a tray of gingerbread.
Dane scratched the back of his neck. “Well, you are Santa’s daughter, and most probably remember you.” What he didn’t say was that they probably also remembered how I’d injured people and practically destroyed the North Pole.
Dash’s fingers intertwined with mine, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my skin. “The North Pole has a hierarchy, and the Claus family sits at the top.”
I was about to make a sarcastic comment when we rounded a corner, and a small wooden stall came into view. The sign above it read “Mrs. Berry’s Sweet Treats” in swirling red letters, and something about it stopped me in my tracks.
The woman behind the counter was smiling with rosy cheeks, her silver hair twisted into a bun beneath a red-and-white striped hat. Steam rose from a massive copper pot beside her, and the display case held rows of brownies topped with everything from crushed candy canes to toasted marshmallows.
My feet moved forward without conscious thought, drawn by something beyond the chocolate scent hanging heavy in the air.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” The woman’s eyes twinkled as they landed on Dash and Dane, then shifted to me. For a moment, her smile faltered, a flash of recognition and surprise crossing her features before returning brighter than before. “And what a pleasure to see you again, young lady.”
Again?
The world tilted slightly beneath my feet as something stirred in the recesses of my memory, like a door long closed creaking open.
I was sixteen, standing at this very stall, but I wasn’t alone. My mom was beside me, her laugh musical as she pointed to the peppermint brownies. “One of those and two hot chocolates, please.”
I tugged my scarf tighter around my neck, trying to pretend I wasn’t excited about the brownie we were about to share.
She dug in her ridiculous snowflake-patterned purse for her wallet.
She was also wearing an over-the-top Christmas cardigan with 3D ornaments that lit up when she pressed a hidden button in the pocket.
I was mortified, rolling my eyes every time a human stared too long or pointed.
But Mom just laughed and sometimes pressed the button in response, making the tiny lights dance across her torso.
“We should get a peppermint brownie too,” she suggested, winking at the vendor, Mrs. Berry.
“No way.” I was painfully aware of how uncool it was to be there with my mom, eating Christmas desserts before Thanksgiving had even happened. “I’m not even hungry.”
My stomach chose that moment to growl audibly, and both Mom and Mrs. Berry laughed.
Mrs. Berry’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Maybe an extra marshmallow for the young lady who isn’t hungry.”
I scowled but didn’t protest when the extra marshmallow appeared, floating on my hot chocolate like a sugary island.
“You’ll change your mind about the brownie,” Mom said, breaking off a piece and holding it out to me. “Just like you’ll change your mind about Christmas again someday.”
I took the piece reluctantly, the treat smelling too good to resist.
“Never.” There was more conviction than there had been last month when I begged her to stop using my nickname. Or the week before when I refused to help decorate the tree.
Something had slowly been changing since we’d moved from the North Pole to Klarhaven, then to Reinberg. My magic was no longer accessible, and I found myself wanting to be around humans more and more. The world I once knew was slowly slipping away, and I couldn’t find it in myself to care.
I blinked, the stall coming back into focus as the past receded.
“Neve?” Dane’s voice sounded far away. “Are you okay?”
I reached out, steadying myself against the wooden counter. “I’ve been here before.”
Mrs. Berry’s eyes softened. “Yes, dear. Many times. You and your mother loved my peppermint brownies.” She reached into the display case and placed a brownie on a napkin.
My fingers trembled as I picked up the brownie, the scent of chocolate and mint rising to meet me. I took a small bite of it, and a tear slid unexpectedly down my cheek.
“I think the last time I was here was right before...” I shook my head, frustration building as I tried to grasp at wisps of a memory that dissolved upon contact. “I forgot. I forgot it all.”