I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to close the distance between our mouths. “Am I going to have eight reindeer or nine?”
The question hung between us, loaded with meaning. Rudy’s expression shifted, vulnerability flashing across his features before determination took its place.
Instead of answering, he cupped my cheek, his thumbtracing my bottom lip. Then he leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine in a kiss so gentle it made my heart ache. His lips moved with reverence, as if he were savoring something he’d been denied access to for too long.
As his tenderness threatened to overwhelm me, he deepened the kiss. His tongue slipped past my lips, claiming me with a hunger that matched the one building inside me. His hands slid down to my waist, lifting me effortlessly until my legs wrapped around him.
I threaded my fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as our mouths moved together with increasing urgency. This wasn’t like the kisses I’d shared with the others. This was Rudy pouring every unspoken word, every moment of restraint, every ounce of longing into a single, soul-shattering connection.
My body melted against his, the water lapping gently around us as we moved together. The rest of the world fell away until there was nothing but his mouth on mine, his hands on my skin, and the steam rising around us.
Something in the air shifted. At first, I thought it was the dizzying effect of Rudy’s kiss, but when he pulled back slightly, his eyes focused on something to the side of us.
I followed his gaze and gasped.
The night sky had transformed. Ribbons of light unfurled across the darkness above the trees, with brilliant streams of emerald, violet, and gold weaving together like an ethereal tapestry. They pulsed and danced, creating patterns too beautiful to be random but too wild to be designed.
“Are those the Northern Lights?” I’d seen them faintly in the distance before, but this was so close I felt like I could reach out and let the colors filter through my fingers.
Rudy’s arms tightened around me, his expression filled with relief. “No. It’s the veil.”
My eyes widened. “Theveil?”
“Yes, the boundary between here and the North Pole.” His voice was hushed, as if he were telling me a secret. “And if you can see it...” Rudy pulled me closer, his forehead resting againstmine. “We can take you to the North Pole. We can take you home.”
The lights intensified, stretching up into the sky, their reflection turning the hot spring into a pool of liquid magic.
Wrapped in Rudy’s arms, I felt a sense of belonging so profound it brought tears to my eyes.
I belonged here. With this herd. With this man who couldn’t fly but somehow made me feel like I could soar. And together we belonged in the North Pole.
Chapter 26
Milk and Cookies
Ilay in bed staring at the ceiling, watching patterns of light from the veil dance across it. My mind refused to shut down despite the late hour. Tomorrow we’d cross through the veil to the North Pole, and the thought left me caught between exhilaration and terror.
Rolling onto my side, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and checked it for the twentieth time in an hour, even though it was too late for a response.
Still nothing.
The strangest thing about this whole situation was how difficult it was to maintain my anger. Every time I tried to nurture the fury that they had let this happen to me, memories would resurface: my dad patiently teaching me to skate backward, Mom singing lullabies when I couldn’t sleep, the three of us making snow angels.
How could I reconcile these warm memories with their twelve years of deception? I knew there were magical gag orders, but there had to be something they could have done, right?
I kicked off the covers and sat up, running my hands through my hair. Sleep was a lost cause. What I needed was comfort food.
Specifically, milk and cookies.
I groaned at the stereotypical craving. It was as if my brain was programmed for Christmas clichés. Soon I’d be roasting chestnuts on an open fire and letting Jack Frost nip at my nose.
Shuffling down the hallway, I took the stairs quietly, hoping to avoid waking anyone. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, a soft glow from the dining room caught my attention. I padded toward the light and paused when I saw Rudy sitting alone at the table.
He was sitting in the dark, but the glow from the veil silhouetted him against the floor-to-ceiling windows. The guys had always gathered there the most, and I’d assumed it was for the unobstructed view of nature, but now I understood. Even I was drawn to the magic of the veil, which was why I’d left the curtains open in my room.
Something hung from his fingertips, catching the light. I nearly backed away, not wanting to disturb whatever private moment he was having, when recognition hit me like a snowball to the face.
The object in his hands was the glass ornament from the market, with the snow-covered tree and tiny silver stars suspended inside. The one that had called to my magic and disappeared before I could buy it.
