Chapter 18
HART
"A beard suits you," Santa said. "Why do you shave it off when we start drills?"
I shrugged. "Superstition."
Santa winked. "That cousin of yours teased you about it."
He was right. Bopp had teased me when my beard first grew in. His had been patchy, and he couldn't grow much beyond a goatee and pencil mustache. "With all that hair on your face, you'll be too heavy to fly," he'd told me, and I'd listened to him.
"What does your mate think of it?" Santa asked.
"Loves it." Silver couldn't grow a beard. Every morning, he commented on how much it had grown, and every time we passed each other in the hall, he had to touch it to confirm it was real.
"I don't see a mating mark on your neck." Santa met my gaze with a frown.
"We haven't talked about it yet. It all happened so quickly, and we were both busy around the holidays—"
"And now you're not." Santa chuckled, and all the reasons I had to avoid the conversation slipped away, though doubt still lingered.
Would Silver even want me to mark him? What if I was a horrible father to our children, and he wanted me to move out within the first year, before I did any lasting harm to them?
Santa tapped his finger on the tip of my nose and shook his head. "I don't know what you're thinking right now, but no good will come of it. Talk to your mate."
"Santa!" Silver strode into the room with his hand outstretched. "I was just thinking of you! I have a fresh batch of snickerdoodles cooling on the counter."
Santa shook his hand with a twinkle in his eye. "That's why I stopped by," he said. "Well, that, and this."
He handed Silver a tiny metal box with an intricate locking mechanism on the front. "Every dragon's home should have a vault."
Silver held the box up to his eye and examined it from every angle. "It's fae made."
"Place it where you want and press the button on the side to lock it in place."
Silver held a finger over the button but didn't press down.
"You can collapse it and move it to your next home when you outgrow this one, though I doubt that will be for a very long time." Santa glanced from Silver to me while I was contemplating how many children it would take to fill the house. Too many, by my estimation.
"It'll go in the basement," Silver whispered. "Thank you so much!"
"I've had it lying around for a couple hundred years, waiting for a certain dragon to decide he finally needed it."
"Until I moved in with Hart, they were just baubles." Silver met my gaze with tears in his eyes. "Now, I want to keep them safe for our children."
I didn't know what to say, so I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed his cheek.
A deep ache filled my chest. "Don't cry," I said, though my vision also clouded with tears.
I loved him. This was love, and Silver was my mate.
I wanted to tell him, but now was not the time.
We still had a magical houseguest to entertain.
After we showed Santa the rest of the house, we brought him back to the kitchen for cookies and milk.
"Without your cookies," Santa told Silver, "Our production would be half what it is."
I couldn't deny the truth in his words. I always felt refreshed after I ate anything Silver prepared for us. He claimed he wasn't a good cook, but his soups, noodles, and casseroles were all delicious and filled me with energy.
"Thank you, Santa." Silver bowed his head. "That means so much. The other Santas said Gold and I weren't good enough for Christmas Village, but your business and support kept us afloat, especially when we first started."
"It was my pleasure," Santa said. "The other Santas don't know what they're missing."
Silver stacked the rest of the cookies into a baker's box and sent them home with Santa. When he was gone, Silver patted his belly and laughed. "Gold sent the extra boxes home with me last week, and I'm already using them."
"Word travels fast. If you're going to bake cookies at home, we'll have the neighbor kids stopping by in no time."
"I like the sound of that." He pulled me in for a hug as we watched the snow fall outside the front windows. Two inches of fresh snow had already accumulated on the walk, but the lane was still clear.
Two little ones trudged past in their thick parkas, following a yellow dog on a leash. "It'll be even better when we have our own."
He laughed. "I'll tell them to stay out of the cookie jar, and you'll sneak cookies with them."
He wasn't wrong. Even now, I wished he hadn't sent all the extras home with Santa.
"The oven's still on," he whispered in my ear.
Maybe it wasn't the right time, but I couldn't wait another moment. I turned and planted my hands on his hips for balance and to keep him from running away. "I love you, Silver."
He smiled through fresh tears. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. You don't have to say it back yet. I know it's soon, but—"
He leaned down and kissed me like the leading man in all those Christmas movies, with one hand behind my head and his arm supporting my back. I swooned, and he caught me, holding me in place while he plundered my mouth with his tongue.
"I love you, too," he whispered against my lips. "Everything happened so quickly, and I worried you would think I trapped you, so I didn't say anything."
"Trapped me?" I shook my head, and a tear slid down my cheek. "You didn't know you were in heat. There's no shame in that."
"But I knew you were my mate," he said. "My dragon had been crowing about you for months."
"My reindeer, too." I shrugged. "Our beasts know better than we do sometimes."
"It takes a while for our human brains to catch up." Silver grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the kitchen. "Let's swap stories while we bake more cookies."