Chapter 24 Barbara
Barbara
Ichanged into a pair of flannel pajama pants covered in little hot chocolate mugs and a hooded sweatshirt with a gingerbread man in the center. The festive clothes were growing on me little by little. I’d never admit it to any of the guys, but I could at least admit it to myself.
After putting on cozy socks, I padded silently down the hall as I headed toward the stairs, drawn by the sounds of laughter and the faint smell of popcorn drifting up from below.
After a day of unexpected memories and magic in Reinberg, the promise of a movie night with everyone seemed nice.
Normal, if you ignored the fact that they turned into reindeer.
I paused at the top of the stairs, my hand on the wooden banister. Voices floated up from the living room, low and serious, a stark contrast to the festive atmosphere I’d been expecting.
“You’ve been avoiding her all week.” Cole’s voice was more serious than I’d ever heard it, which was saying a lot since he was pretty much always serious.
My foot hovered over the first step, my body going still. I knew instantly who “her” was.
“I haven’t been avoiding anyone.” Rudy’s voice rumbled up the stairwell, carrying that familiar note of stubborn authority that made my teeth clench. “I’ve been busy.”
Dane’s laugh held no humor. “Busy staring at the horizon from that hill for hours? Super productive, man.”
A beat of silence followed, during which I held my breath.
“Why are you keeping your distance?” Dash’s voice almost matched Rudy’s in its superiority.
My heart climbed into my throat. I knew I should announce my presence or retreat to my room, but my feet remained rooted to the spot, my ears straining to catch every word.
“What exactly do you want me to say?” Rudy’s voice sounded tired. “That I should join the rotation? Take her sledding? Bake fucking cookies?”
Something sharp twisted in my chest at his dismissive tone.
“Maybe just stop being an ass?” Kip spoke this time, his usually playful voice uncharacteristically serious. “Her magic responds differently to you since you’re our alpha. We all feel it.”
The wood beneath my palm grew cold, a thin layer of frost spreading from my fingertips across the banister.
“I don’t think I should.” Rudy’s voice dropped so low I almost missed it. “What’s the point?”
The room below fell silent.
I stood frozen at the top of the stairs, the silence expanding until it filled every corner of my body. What’s the point? Three little words that somehow managed to both break something inside me and ignite it at the same time.
Warmth flooded my cheeks as humiliation turned quickly to anger. All this time, I thought Rudy was distant because of some deep, complicated reason. But no, he didn’t think I was worth the effort.
I stepped back from the stairs, frost now coating the floor. The temperature around me plummeted, and my breath clouded in front of my face as emotions surged through me like a winter storm.
Who the fuck did he think he was? The almighty leader of the herd, too important to waste time on Santa’s broken daughter? The ice beneath my feet thickened, crackling as it spread outward in jagged patterns.
My skin tingled, magic pulsing in waves that matched my racing heart. I was tired of Rudy looking at me like I was simultaneously the answer to everything and nothing worth his time.
The magic built inside me, a pressure behind my ribs that demanded release. I didn’t stop it this time, didn’t control the surge of power that raced through my veins. I welcomed it, letting it consume me until my vision blurred with swirling silver.
Take me away from here. Somewhere I can breathe.
The thought had barely formed before the world compressed around me, squeezing the air from my lungs. For one terrifying moment, I existed everywhere and nowhere, my body dissolving into particles of ice and starlight.
Then, with a disorienting lurch, reality snapped back into focus.
Cold bit into my feet, snow soaking through my socks and the hem of my pajama pants. I stood at the summit of a hill, the vast expanse of snow-covered landscape stretching toward mountains in the distance.
My arms wrapped around my middle, partly from the biting cold, partly to hold myself together.
This was Rudy’s hill.
Why here? Of all the places my magic could have taken me, why the fuck here?
I sank to my knees in the snow, too overwhelmed to care about the cold seeping into my bones. My magic had responded to my emotions, to my need to escape, and it had brought me to the one place associated with the man who’d dismissed me entirely.
Was this a sick cosmic joke? Or was it my subconscious betraying me, revealing that even in my anger, some part of me was still drawn to him?
A tear slid down my cheek, freezing before it could fall. The wind picked up, snow swirling around me in a miniature cyclone that reflected the chaos inside me.
What was I even doing here? In this place, with these men, chasing memories of a life I wasn’t sure I wanted to reclaim?
My parents had let me lose my memories. My magic was unpredictable at best, dangerous at worst. And the one person who seemed to truly understand what I was going through couldn’t be bothered to help me.
The cyclone of snow grew, responding to my spiraling thoughts. Ice crystals formed in the surrounding air, suspended like frozen stars.
I could leave. I could teleport myself back to Palm Springs, back to my house with its desert heat and complete lack of Christmas decorations. Back to a life where magic was something that happened in movies, not something that pulsed through my veins.
But even as the thought formed, I knew it wasn’t true. I couldn’t go back, not really. That life had never been mine.
Plus, my father needed me.
So where did that leave me? Kneeling in the snow on a hilltop with magic I couldn’t control and a heart I couldn’t protect?
I didn’t belong anywhere. Not in Palm Springs, not at the North Pole, not even here with a herd of shapeshifting men who seemed determined to help me find joy while their leader kept his distance.
I was utterly alone.
The snow swirled around me, each icy crystal reflecting my isolation like tiny, frozen mirrors. I buried my face in my hands, trying to steady my breathing against the rising panic.
A strange shuffling sound pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. My head snapped up, eyes widening as I peered through the swirling snow.
Something was moving toward me.
I froze, every muscle tensing in refusal to move as the shape grew closer. It wasn’t human; it was round, lumpy, and had an odd, waddling gait that made it look like a sentient pile of laundry pushing through the snow.
My magic sparked defensively at my fingertips, but instead of attacking, the creature that was roughly the size of a small car simply approached and dropped something soft and heavy around my shoulders.
“Warm.” Its voice was like fabric rustling against itself, barely distinguishable from the wind.
The blanket it had placed around me was impossibly warm, even though it was covered in snow.
The creature looked like someone had gathered every lost winter scarf, mitten, and hat from the last decade and mashed them together into a lumpy, patchwork beast. Tiny antler nubs poked through the top of its head, frosted with delicate ice flowers that glowed faintly in the moonlight.
“Are you a nibbleknot?” My voice came out embarrassingly high-pitched. “Are you going to eat me?”
The creature made a sound between a snort and a chuckle, its glowing blue eyes crinkling at the corners. It grunted, shifting its bulk to sit beside me. Up close, I could see that it was wearing a complex weave of fabrics over its fur.
“Do you have a name?” I pulled the blanket tighter, surprised at how calm I felt. Was this the magic of the creature beside me, or did some part of me know it wouldn’t hurt me?
The nibbleknot tilted its head, considering me. “Barbara.”
I blinked. Then blinked again. “Barbara? You’re a mysterious magical creature and your name is Barbara?”
Barbara huffed indignantly, puffing up like an offended pillow, but her form shook like she was laughing. It was either that or she was getting ready to eat me.
“I’m sorry. It’s just surprising you have such a human name. It could be worse, though; your name could be Karen.”
Without warning, she stood up.
“Oh no, I didn’t mean to offend you!” I struggled to my feet, my legs numb.
But Barbara wasn’t looking at me anymore. She waddled purposefully to the edge of the hill, then jumped, vanishing in an explosion of powdery snow that glittered like diamond dust.
I peered over the edge, trying to see where she’d landed. There was nothing there: no Barbara-shaped impression in the snow, no trail of footprints leading away. But there was a giant mound of snow at the bottom that had several large reindeer impressions.
“What the hell?” I muttered.
“They do that.”
The deep voice behind me sent a jolt through my entire body. I whirled around, my blanket billowing like a cape.
Rudy stood there, a dark silhouette against the star-filled sky, watching me with his intense, unreadable eyes. He wasn’t wearing a coat, just a T-shirt that clung to his muscular frame, seemingly unbothered by the cold.
My stomach dropped. Of course, he would find me trespassing on his private brooding spot.
“I was just leaving.” I tightened my grip on the blanket, trying for dignity despite my snow-soaked pajama pants and sock-covered feet. “Wouldn’t want to interfere with your important schedule of running up hills and jumping off, or whatever strange adrenaline shit you’re into.”
I tried to step past him, but he moved slightly, blocking my path without touching me.
“The nibbleknot visited you.” His eyes searched mine, looking for something I couldn’t name.
“Yeah. Her name’s Barbara. We’re best friends now.
She gave me fashion advice, and we talked about our favorite reality shows.
” The sarcasm dripped from my voice like icicles.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to figure out how to teleport my ass back to the cabin before I lose my toes to frostbite. ”
Rudy didn’t move, didn’t even seem to register my attempt at walking away. Instead, he studied my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
“They only appear when someone is worthy of comfort.” His voice softened, losing some of its usual edge. “When they’re truly lonely or sad.”
The gentleness in his tone caught me off guard, undermining the protective wall of anger I’d been building. I swallowed hard, fighting the sudden burn of tears.
“Well, congratulations on your expert assessment. Yes, I’m sad. Yes, I’m lonely. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you with any of it. What was it you said? There’s no point?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, and for a moment, something like regret flashed across his face. “You heard.”
“Enough.” The word came out sharper than I intended, slicing through the cold air between us. “Enough to know you’d rather avoid me than help me. Which is fine. I didn’t ask to be here. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
The wind picked up, whipping snow around our ankles in response to my rising emotions. Rudy’s gaze dropped to the swirling ice, then back to my face, his expression unreadable in the moonlight.
“That’s not what I meant.” His massive frame seemed to draw in on itself slightly, shoulders tensing. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.” I stepped closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems pretty clear you don’t want me the way the others do.”
He ran a hand down his face, looking utterly defeated. “Neve, I can’t fly.”