The last word was clearly aimed at Rudy, whose eyebrows drew together in disapproval. “That’s not?—”
“I think Kip might be onto something,” Don interrupted. “Neve’s magic responds best when she’s relaxed and enjoying herself. Remember the dome?”
Pierce nodded. “And the snowball fight.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and for a moment, I could have sworn tiny sparks danced across my fingertips.
Rudy’s gaze flicked to my hands, then back to my face. Something unreadable passed through his eyes before he scoffed and turned away. “Fine. Do what you want.”
He strode off toward the trees, shoulders rigid. The rest of the herd exchanged looks, then followed him with varying levels of reluctance.
Soon only Kip, Cole, and I remained in the clearing, the silence stretching between us until Kip clapped his hands together.
“Well, this is going to be fun.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Your definition of fun needs serious recalibration.”
Cole’s mouth curved into a smile. “Give us a chance. I think you’ll be surprised.”
I smiled back. “All right, reindeer games. Show me what you’ve got.”
Chapter 22
Reindeer Games
Icrossed my arms, stomping my feet in place to get blood flowing back to my toes. Cole and Kip had vanished five minutes ago with mysterious grins and instructions to “wait right here” while they “prepared the learning environment.” Which, based on previous experience, could mean anything from gathering harmless pinecones to setting up an elaborate Christmas-themed deathtrap.
Kip reappeared first, trudging through the snow, pulling three sleds on a rope behind him. “Training location secured! Follow me, Ice Princess.”
I glared at the nickname but trudged after him. “If this involves sacrificing me to the winter gods, I’d like to point out that my father could technically be considered one, and he probably wouldn’t appreciate it.”
Cole materialized from between two pine trees. “No sacrifices today. Just hands-on joy training.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly strained something. “Joy training? Did you get that from a holiday self-help book?”
Kip’s laughter echoed through the trees as we rounded a bend and emerged into a clearing. Unlike our previous training ground, this one featured several large snow mounds, a handful of towering pine trees, and what appeared to be the start of a crude snow track.
Cole started to untie the sleds. “Magic flows best through authentic emotion. You can’t force joy, but you can create conditions where it naturally occurs.”
“Like a snow obstacle course?” I eyed the clearing dubiously.
Kip’s face lit up. “Exactly like that! But for our first activity, we’ll make snow angels.”
He flopped backward into the snow, arms and legs moving in perfect synchronicity. When he stood, brushing powder from his ass, a perfect angel impression remained; except this one had wings that curved like actual feathers and a detailed halo.
Cole nodded toward the snow. “Your turn.”
“I hate to break it to you, but snow angels aren’t exactly joy-inducing for most adults.”
Kip clutched invisible pearls. “Blasphemy! Snow angels are timeless.”
I sighed, looking between their expectant faces. “Fine. One snow angel coming right up.”
I fell backward, the snow cushioning my fall. For a moment, I just lay there, staring up at the sky. Then I moved my arms and legs, feeling utterly ridiculous yet somehow lighter.
When I stood, I expected to see a misshapen snow depression, but my angel had delicate patterns radiating from where my head had been, and the wings sparkled with a bluish tint that definitely wasn’t natural.
Cole’s eyebrows shot up. “See? You didn’t even try to use magic.”
