Chapter 34
NOX
I drop into the parlor with a heavy thud, soot trailing behind me like black snow. A crooked Christmas tree stands waiting in the corner, its ornaments dangling at odd angles.
Ice follows moments later, sliding down the chimney with far less grace.
He lands beside me, coughing through a cloud of ash, the sack of presents clutched tightly in his arms. I step forward first, a gift clutched firmly in my gloved hand.
I crouch at the base of the tree, intent on setting it down among the pile of presents already shimmering beneath the branches.
But before I can, the fucking elf darts in, trying to snatch the box with a sly grin.
We collide at the foot of the tree, shoulders slamming and hands gripping the same ribbon. The gift rattles, its glow pulsing brighter as if it’s feeding on our struggle.
"You’re holding it wrong. Gifts should be placed with care, not slammed down like a brick." The elf grabs the gift.
"With care? You nearly dropped it on the floor! I’m not letting you ruin this."
The elf tugs harder, glitter scattering across the rug. "Please, you’re all brute force and no finesse. Look at you—mask on and scowl ready. You don’t exactly scream ‘holiday spirit.’"
I push him back. "Holiday spirit doesn’t matter. Getting the job done does."
The elf smirks, refusing to let go. "Spoken like someone who’s never decorated a tree in his life. I should be the one to place the first gift!"
The ornaments above us sway, chiming faintly, as if the tree itself is amused by our fight. The gift thumps against the floorboards.
"You know… one: doors were invented for a reason. And two: you two are loud as heck." Both I and the elf jump.
Inside this crooked little house, Neo has already claimed the couch, lounging against the faded cushions. She has one leg crossed over the other, a half-smile tugging at her lips as she plucks a sugar-dusted cookie. "You two are acting ridiculous. It’s a box, not a crown."
I crouch low, my mask catching the glow of the firelight, and I press the gift firmly onto the floorboards beneath the branches.
The ribbons curl tight, snapping into place as though the tree itself is accepting the offering.
For a heartbeat, the lights dim to a faint glow, then they flare brighter, casting long shadows that dance across our faces.
The pile of presents is looking good, their colors synchronizing, as if the house has been waiting for this moment. The ornaments chime faintly, a sound too delicate to be natural, like glass whispering.
The elf scowls behind me, arms crossed, while Neo lounges on the couch, watching with the same bored detachment as before. My first task is done, and the tree—strange, crooked, and alive in its own way—seems satisfied.
"Finally." Neo stands up and walks to the door, looking at the map carved into her skin. Her sass is making me horny.