My mouth fell open as Don strutted onto the runway in reindeer form. His massive body gleamed under the spotlight, his coat brushed to a shine. But it was his antlers that left me speechless. He’d transformed them into a living winter wonderland that put Bruce’s mechanical marvel to shame.
Each point was wrapped in thin silver wire holding tiny crystal snowflakes that caught the light, creating a constellation of stars above his head. Frozen icicles that somehow didn’t melt hung strategically, and snow fell from certain points. How the hell had he managed that?
“A five on overall aesthetic impact,” Tinsel whispered appreciatively beside me.
The Arctic fox shifter judge, Frost, rubbed his chin. “The snow and ice elements are a creative and ambitious touch.”
“The anatomical symmetry is impeccable,” added Juniper, the reindeer judge, in a tone suggesting she’d like to verify other aspects of Don’s anatomy.
I shot her a look that I hoped conveyed, “Back off, he’s mine.” She just grinned at me.
The crowd gasped as Don lowered his head, triggering a miniature aurora borealis that rippled between his antlers in spirals of green, blue, and purple light.
I burst out laughing. Not mockingly, but with pure, unfettered joy. Don, normally so quiet and stoic, was absolutely eating up the attention. His tail wiggled with pleasure at each cheer, and when he caught my eye, he winked before executing a perfect spin that made his antler display shimmer even more dramatically.
The crowd went absolutely wild.
Across the hall, I spotted Rudy and the others stamping their feet and whistling. Even Dash, who’d been upset to be eliminated in round two for excessive wax use, cheered enthusiastically.
“Don clearly had professional help,” sniffed Elmer, the fifth judge, a grumpy old elf with ice-blue glasses perched on his nose.
“Is that against the rules?” I picked up my scorecard, determined to give Don perfect marks.
“Not technically. But there’s an agreement?—”
“Look at Cooper,” Tinsel interrupted, pointing to the final contestant waiting in the wings.
My jaw dropped for the second time that night as a massive reindeer I didn’t recognize stepped onto the runway. He made even Don look small, and his antlers... good lord.
The crowd went deathly silent before erupting in thunderous applause. Cooper hadn’t just decorated his antlers; he’d turned them into a full theatrical production. Lights flickered and gears turned, creating a living Santa’s workshop that bustled across his rack. Tiny figurines hammered at toys, conveyor belts whirred, and reindeer took flight as each tilt of his head shifted the scene. When he reached center stage, he lowered his massive rack, and music began playing from his antlers.
Dad leapt to his feet, clapping with childlike wonder. The joy radiating from him was almost visible, a shimmering aura that seemed to strengthen with each passing moment.
“Well, I think we have our winner,” Juniper murmured, scribbling perfect scores on her card.
I looked down at my scorecard, hesitating. Don’s displayhad been beautiful and technically impressive, but Cooper’s was... transcendent.
When the final scores were tallied, Cooper won by two points. Don took second place and transformed back to human form to accept his silver antler trophy, wearing nothing but a strategically placed Santa hat.
The after-party quickly kicked into gear and sprawled across the hall, clusters of reindeer and elves celebrating with spiced cider and gingerbread cookies. I stayed in my judge’s chair, enjoying the view of Don parading around with his silver antler trophy, thankfully now wearing pants.
A familiar presence settled into the chair beside me. “You did well as a judge, Snowflake.” Dad’s massive hand covered mine on the table. The tremor I’d noticed earlier was gone. “Though you weren’t exactly subtle about your favorites.”
I snorted into my drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was completely unbiased toward the men I’m bonded to for eternity.”
Mom moved behind us, placing her hands on Dad’s shoulders. Her touch seemed to immediately relax him, his posture softening under her fingers. “The antler competition always brings out the competitive spirit.”
A comfortable silence fell between us, the abominable snowman in the room finally impossible to ignore. I swirled the last bit of my hot chocolate in my mug. “So... are we going to talk about Silven?”
Mom sank gracefully into the chair on my other side. “Are you all right?”
I paused, considering the question. “Yeah, I think I am. It was... satisfying seeing him face consequences.”
Dad’s eyes clouded with regret. “I should have seen what was happening years ago. With you. With Rudy. I didn’t know the loss of his antlers affected him that deeply… he seemed overjoyed when I made him my advisor.” His shoulders slumped. “I thought I was doing what was best, sending you away from the Pole. I believed the distance would keep your magic muted enough until you were ready.”
Across the room, Rudy lifted Kip onto his shoulders, both of them laughing as they chased Pierce. My heart squeezed at the sight.
“I understand why you did it.” The words felt true as they left my mouth. “I just wish I hadn’t lost so much time. Twelve years of not knowing who I was or who you both were.”
