Chapter 21
NEO
My eyes flick up to meet Nox, his expression is unreadable… somewhere between anger and something softer. "I’m okay," I say quietly. "He wasn’t hurting me."
Nox doesn’t move, his jaw tight, his stance firm. "He marked your skin with fucking blood.."
I glance down at the map etched across my forearm. "He gave me exactly what I asked for."
He steps closer, fists clenched. "You’re mine to protect, and if someone ever tries to take more than what you want to give, I’ll find a way to burn them out of existence."
My expression softens, and I step forward, my hair flowing like shadow-like silk as I wrap my arms around him. Nox freezes for half a second before melting into my embrace. I hold him close, my head resting against his chest and I smile. "Jealous of a ghost?"
"Jealous of anything that gets too close to you," he says. "Even if it’s made out of air."
His arms tighten around me, protective and grounding.
***
Twinkling cobweb lights, peppermint skulls and gingerbread coffins are stacked like gift boxes. Zilla is in full Creepmas mode, her orange apron is dusted with powdered sugar and bat-shaped sprinkles as she decorates orders like a sugar-fueled general.
"Licorice bones to aisle three! Someone find the marshmallow eyeballs, they go in the wreaths!
" I stand near the counter, still faintly glowing from my ghost encounter, watching Zilla summon a tray of cursed candy canes with the flick of a spoon.
Nox leans beside me, his arms crossed, eyeing the map that is carved into my skin.
"I still don’t understand why we need that map," he mutters.
Not every house in this city is made of brick or wood; some are spectral.
Ghost houses shimmering just beyond the veil, they are tucked between alleyways that no longer exist, perched atop foundations that have vanished with time.
They are invisible to the living, but for the ghosts, it’s their home.
I know this because I’ve seen candlelight in nonexistent windows.
I’ve heard laughter coming from empty lots, and I felt the chill of a doorknob that shouldn’t have been there.
I know something else too… something that drove me to my knees in that circle to ask the dead for direction.
I know that every child deserves a gift, no matter if they’re naughty or nice, living or lost. Whether they sleep in bunk beds or beneath spectral rafters, whether they write letters in crayon or whisper wishes into the wind—every child deserves to be remembered.
That’s why I need the map and not the one printed on glossy paper, but the real one.
I need the map that’s etched in ghost light and memories, the one that shows hidden paths and forgotten doors.
The map shows the houses that have been flickering in and out of existence.
Since Creepmas isn’t just about candy and cobwebs, it is about kindness. About reaching into the shadows and saying, “I see you; you matter.” With using this map, I can make sure no child—living or ghost-like—is left behind.
"Every child deserves a gift… even the naughty ones. Alive or not."
He reaches out, gently brushing my hair back from my face, letting his fingers linger against my cheek.
"I love you." I blink and the room seems to hold its breath. "I’ve loved you since the first time you threatened me… or my cock... with your little knife," he says, voice low and steady. "I love you when you’re fearless. I love you when you’re reckless, and I love you when you’re loud or quiet. I also love you when you’re halfway to the underworld with a map on your arm. "
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close to me. "I know," I whisper against his lips. "I love you too."
I see the elf moving in the corner of my eye; he’s furiously crossing items off a list, the scroll trailing across the floor like a haunted receipt. "Yes... love… I’d love to see a Christmas tree in the center of the city."
Nox rolls his eyes.