Chapter 36 Christmas Eve Pregaming
Christmas Eve Pregaming
Iwas dragged into quality control, a sprawling room in the workshop’s east wing filled with more toys than a department store on Black Friday.
“No offense, but this is ridiculous.” I planted my feet as we reached the doorway, which was pointless against four determined men. “I have actual magic to practice. You know, the kind that decides whether Christmas continues to exist?”
Kip tugged my arm playfully. “This is actual magic practice.”
“Playing with toys?” I raised an eyebrow that I hoped conveyed the full depth of my skepticism.
“Christmas Eve pregaming.” Dane swept his arm toward the workshop where several elves scurried about with clipboards, measuring tools, and stopwatches.
Don simply lifted me off my feet and carried me into the room like I was a stubborn package delivery.
“Put me down, you reindeer barbarian!” I smacked his chest, which felt like hitting warm marble.
Blitz walked next to us, unfazed by me being manhandled by his herdmate. “This is where the toys are evaluated. It’s literally the most important job.”
Don deposited me in front of my dad, who sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by an army of action figures arranged in an epic battle scene. His hair was mussed, his cheeks flushed pink with excitement, and he looked more like an overgrown child than Santa Claus, Bringer of Christmas Joy.
“Snowflake!” Dad beamed up at me. “Excellent timing. The galactic defenders need reinforcements against the void creatures.” He held up a purple alien figurine with three eyes and articulated tentacles.
I glanced at Don, who stood quietly beside me. “I can’t believe you support this.”
The corner of Don’s mouth twitched. “Your dad knows what he’s doing.”
“By playing with toys a week before the biggest delivery night of the year?”
Dad flicked his wrist, and a void creature flew through the air. “I’m absorbing joy. It’s like a preflight fuel-up.”
I crossed my arms. “You’re a grown man playing with action figures.”
“Precisely!” He made explosion noises with his mouth as he crashed two figurines together.
An elf approached with a clipboard, nodding approvingly. “Excellent destruction sounds, sir. Very realistic.”
“Thank you, Pepper. I’ve been working on my explosion repertoire.” Dad demonstrated three variations of kaboom noises, each more ridiculous than the last.
Before I could form a response, Kip grabbed my hand and pulled me toward a table covered with board games. “You’re with me first. We’re assessing strategy and fun factors.”
“I have actual work—”
“This is the work,” Kip insisted, opening a box labeled Enchanted Forest Explorer. The game board unfolded to reveal a 3D pop-up forest that actually grew tiny leaves when exposed to air.
I blinked. “Okay, that’s pretty cool.”
Kip grinned triumphantly. “Round one of sixteen begins now.”
“Sixteen rounds?!”
An hour later, I was deeply invested in what felt like our fourteenth game, a version of Scrabble where points were lost if you took too long on your turn.
“That’s not a word!” I pointed accusingly at Kip’s tiles.
“Zorlflank is absolutely a word.” Kip’s face remained angelically innocent. “It’s what you call the left antler point when it’s frosty.”
“Cheater.” I threw a game piece at him, which he caught easily.
Across the room, Blitz had transformed what was supposed to be a simple dollhouse review into a full theatrical production. He’d donned a tiny apron and was speaking in a high-pitched voice while manipulating a plastic mom doll.
“Harold, I told you not to bring your moose friends inside after they’ve been rolling in the mud!” Blitz moved the dad doll back and forth with his other hand. “But Petunia, they promised to wipe their hooves!”
A small crowd of elves had gathered, doubled over with laughter. Even Don, who’d been solving complex puzzle toys in the corner, was watching with a smile.
I stifled a laugh, but Kip caught me. “Is that joy I detect, Ms. North?”
“Shut up and play your made-up words,” I muttered, but I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.
After Kip thoroughly trounced me at every board game in existence, Dane led me to the electronics section. “I need to assess durability.” He proceeded to fly a remote-controlled dragon directly into a wall.
“Nothing says quality control like blunt force trauma.”
Dane picked up the slightly dented dragon. “We have to replicate real-world conditions.” He reset the controls and aimed the dragon at a different wall.
Watching these grown men take toy testing so seriously was both ridiculous and... weirdly charming. Even Don, who approached his station with the focus of a brain surgeon, occasionally made tiny sounds of satisfaction when a puzzle piece clicked into place.
I didn’t notice when Don slipped away, but he returned with a plate of cookies and hot chocolate, sliding it my way with a warm look that sent butterflies through my stomach. “Fuel for the final round.”
Blitz practically skipped over to us, still wearing the apron. “Racing time!”
The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor, racing remote-controlled cars against Blitz, Kip, and Dane, while Don called out the play-by-play in a perfect sports announcer voice.
Our cars crashed repeatedly, often spectacularly, and each collision sent me into fits of laughter that made my sides ache.
When Kip’s car did a perfect flip over Dane’s and landed upside down, I laughed so hard I snorted, and the feeling exploded outward from my chest.
The room filled with tiny golden sparks that drifted like fireflies.
Everyone froze, staring at the magical manifestation.
“Well done, snowflake.” Dad’s voice made me turn. He stood watching me, his eyes crinkling at the corners, magic radiating from him like heat from a furnace. “This is it, you know.”
“What is?” I watched the sparks dance around my fingertips.
“The true heart of our magic.” He knelt beside me, his own magic reaching out to mingle with mine, threads weaving together. “Joy.”
The main square of the North Pole had undergone a transformation that would have made my former Christmas-hating self break out in hives.
Everywhere I looked, enchantment spilled across the space.
There were booths dripping with twinkling lights that changed colors with the mood of whoever passed by, ice sculptures that moved and danced when nobody was looking directly at them, and the unmistakable scent of cinnamon, chocolate, and pine that seemed baked into the very air itself.
“You’re doing that thing again.” Pierce appeared at my side, his eyes fixed on my face.
I blinked up at him. “What thing?”
“That thing where you’re analyzing something magical instead of experiencing it.” His hand found mine, warm despite the cold. “Stop thinking so much.”
Easy for him to say. My entire life had been turned upside down in the last two months.
Last year at this time, I’d been drinking wine alone in my house, ignoring holiday specials and watching true-crime episodes.
Now I was standing at the North Pole, silver-haired and magic-powered, preparing to help Santa deliver joy to the world tomorrow night.
Plus, you know, the whole mated-to-nine-reindeer-shifters thing.
“I’m thinking the perfect amount, thank you very much.” I stuck my tongue out at him, immediately undermining any attempt at maturity.
Vix rocketed into view, his fiery energy practically visible as he skidded to a stop in front of us, sending a spray of snow over Pierce’s polished boots.
“Snowball war! East field! Cole’s building an ice fortress, and Dash is being all tactical about attack formations.” Vix grabbed my hand. “We need you on our team because, you know…” He wiggled his fingers dramatically. “Ice powers.”
Pierce brushed snow from his boots with exaggerated annoyance. “We’re supposed to be savoring the cultural experience of the Winter Carnival, not engaging in childish—”
A perfectly formed snowball smacked Pierce directly in the face.
Rudy lowered his throwing arm with a satisfied smirk from twenty feet away. “Sorry. My aim’s usually better than that.”
“Better?” Pierce sputtered, wiping snow from his eye.
Rudy’s deep voice carried easily over the carnival noise. “I was aiming for your ego. It’s a much bigger target.”
I burst out laughing as Pierce’s face shifted from outrage to calculation.
“You have thirty seconds to prepare your defenses,” Pierce informed me, his eyes never leaving Rudy. “Then I will show our alpha what happens when he challenges someone like me.”
“But I wanted to try the caramel apple bites.” I looked longingly at the booth I’d been heading toward.
Pierce was already striding purposefully toward Rudy, who stood his ground with the confident stance of someone who’d just provoked a controlled avalanche.
Vix tugged my arm. “Come on! This war is starting now.”
An hour later, I was breathless, soaked, and laughing so hard my sides hurt. The war had devolved into complete chaos, with alliances forming and breaking every few minutes. Even the village children had joined in, thrilled to battle alongside Santa’s daughter and her reindeer.
Cole had built me a throne of snow from where I could unleash destruction, but Dash had eventually infiltrated our defenses by burrowing through it.
Dash held out a steaming mug to me as I brushed snow from my hair for the twentieth time.
I accepted the peace offering and took a sip, groaning at how rich it was. “Where did you get this?”
“Enchanted cocoa fountain by the music stage.” Dash watched me savor the drink. “Your cheeks are pink.”
“That happens when you’re pelted with snowballs for an hour straight.”
His gloved thumb gently brushed my cheekbone. “Joy’s a good look on you, Neve.”
Something fluttered in my chest that had nothing to do with the drink.
I sipped the last of the hot chocolate as Dash’s fingers lingered against my cheek. His touch seemed to spread through my entire body, making me momentarily forget how soaked and freezing I actually was.
“Neve! I got you something!” Vix came toward us, carrying a plate of caramel apple pieces smothered in nuts, chocolate drizzle, and way too much edible glitter.
My eyes widened. “How did you know I wanted that?”
Vix’s grin was triumphant. “You mentioned it right before Pierce got his face rearranged by Rudy’s snowball.” He thrust the treat into my hands. “I got the works. The elf at the stand said it’s the best one.”
“You believe everything elves tell you.” Pierce approached, still brushing snow from his coat. His hair remained perfectly styled despite the battle, which seemed unfair.
I took a giant bite of the apple and nearly moaned. The tartness cut through the buttery caramel in a way that made my taste buds sing.
Cole materialized at my other side, gesturing toward the village center, where a crowd was gathering. “The aurora lantern ceremony is starting. We should head over.”
My stomach fluttered with nerves. Dad had mentioned this tradition, but I’d been too busy panicking about sleigh flying and present delivery lessons to really absorb the details.
“Do I need to do anything special?” I wiped caramel from my chin.
Rudy’s expression softened as he watched me. “Write your wish and release your lantern when the time comes. Nothing complicated.”
“Unless you count baring your soul to the cosmos as complicated,” Vix chimed in, earning an elbow from Dash.
We made our way to the center of the square, where Dane, Don, Kip, and Blitz were already waiting. The entire village had gathered around a circular platform where elves distributed paper lanterns.
An elf handed me one with a small wooden stylus, the tip glowing faintly blue.
“What are you going to wish for?” Vix tried to peer over my shoulder.
Pierce pulled him back by his collar. “It’s private. That’s the whole point.”
I stared at the blank paper, the stylus hovering uncertainly. What did I want?
I closed my eyes and let myself feel the bond connecting me to these nine impossible men. It hummed beneath my skin, warm and electric. When I opened my eyes, I knew exactly what to write.
May we always find joy together, no matter how the sleigh flies.
My dad stepped onto the platform, his presence immediately commanding attention without him saying a word. He raised his hands, and the crowd fell silent.
“Tonight, we release our hopes to the sky, where the aurora will carry them to the stars.”
On his signal, the first lanterns began to rise. I held mine, waiting my turn, watching the paper glow brighter as if sensing the moment approaching.
When I finally released mine alongside my herd’s, my magic surged. It swirled around the ten lanterns and sent them spiraling upward in a perfect formation that mimicked our sleigh. They glowed with silver and gold light, far brighter than the others, cutting through the night sky.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as the ten lanterns reached the aurora, merging with the cosmic light. The entire sky lit up in a display more brilliant than any I’d ever seen, with bands of color dancing and weaving together.
Warmth flooded through me, not just physical heat but something deeper, more essential.
Pure, undiluted joy.
Only when the crowd’s murmurs grew louder did I notice the shimmer of magic around me. Silver-blue and gold sparks danced over my skin, visible to everyone.
Laughter bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me, spilling out into the night air. For the first time since discovering who I truly was, I was ready. Ready for Christmas Eve, ready for whatever came after, ready for this joy-filled life with my nine men.