Up ahead the path opens up to a row of nine massive homes tucked against the base of the mountains. Each one is dripping with lights and frosted snow. These aren’t cookie cutter homes either—each one has their own unique personality. One’s large wrap around porch could host an entire party. While another’s garden could easily be featured in home magazines.
In the center sits a beautiful stone mansion with warm candles flickering in each paned window. Above the grand double door is a wooden sign that reads The Hall of Reins. I have no idea what this place is, but even I can tell it’s important.
Ryatt’s thumb strokes back and forth across the back of my hand. “You alright?”
“Oh, yeah, totally fine.” I smile. “Just casually walking towards the biggest home I’ve ever seen after some mysterious letter arrives by a tiny blue lady named Eirvyn. Yep, no big deal. I’mgood.”
He squeezes my hand gently, and something in me settles when I look into his eyes. His Northern Star pulses from beneath his sweater, reminding me we are in this together. A warmth spreads from where our hands are joined, bringing with it a wash of calm that I needed. It’s almost as if it knows, a living thing inside of us.
The massive doors ahead creak open on their own, releasing a wave of warm, cinnamon-scented air that makes my knees weak.Ryatt doesn’t move until I do, as if he’s waiting for me to be ready.
“I guess this is welcome home,” I whisper.
He glances over, with the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “Snow place like it.”
I laugh softly as we step inside, my heart pounding against my ribs. The doors close behind us with a low, echoing thud that feels more than just a physical door closing.
Right inside the massive living room is a fire roaring in a fireplace large enough I’m pretty sure I could stand in it. There’s white marble tiles laid in precision lines beneath it. The large mantle has the most perfect garland I’ve ever seen, with blue and silver bells hanging along it.
“Whoa, I don’t think I’ve ever seen ceilings this high in a home before. What is that? 50 feet?”
Ryatt leans over, kissing my temple as a soft chuckle leaves him. “Berry, I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you, quirky commentary and all.”
I roll my eyes at him, but my cheeks flush all the same. “You say that now but wait until I’m asking how many Christmas trees are too many for one room.”
He grins as his eyes twinkle. “There’s no such thing in Sugarplum Hollow.”
Before I can fire back, movement catches my eye. A group of people—no, men—stand gathered around a long table carved from dark wood, each one with an air of importance that makes my pulse stutter. Their posture is so regal, the kind of stiffness that comes from years of training. Their hair and beards are so neatly trimmed and in a place that even their gray hairs are in perfect lines.
Ryatt straightens beside me, his hand falling from mine as his head dips respectfully. The sudden change in his demeanor makes my stomach dip. My flirty, confident man that smirks atme over cups of cocoa is gone, and in his place stands Prince Ryatt Dasher—the heir to whatever this magical kingdom is.
One of the men steps forward, his mouth cut into a hard line. His dark black hair is streaked with gray, and those eyes, the same ones I’ve stared into on the younger version of them. This must be Ryatt’s father, a slightly more terrifying version of the man I love. His eyes only flick to me once before cutting back to Ryatt.
“You’re late,” he says, his voice gravely and hard. “Aurielle’s decree isn’t a suggestion. You’re well aware of its importance. Not even the next Dasher can ignore the call, or should we be looking for your replacement?”
My throat goes dry as his words sink in. The next Dasher. What is life going to be like living here with Christmas a major part of our lives?
I resist the urge to grab Ryatt’s hand, my fingers twitch at my side trying to find anything to ground me in this moment. I’m not sure if I need comfort, or if the unease is also coming from him too as he faces his father.
It’s only when the silence of the room becomes too much that my eyes drift around, taking in every single person staring at me. But it’s not the curious sort of staring. No, this is the how dare you knock over the Christmas tree kind of staring. It’s as if my presence is personally offending every single one of them.
Then again, I don’t see any other women here, so maybe it’s a mans only club? How very sixth century of them. Women can do cool shit to you know.
“Why are they staring?” I whisper under my breath, glancing down to make sure I’m not sporting a coffee stain or anything. My heart lurches when I see what everyone is staring at. The faint shimmer of light pulses beneath my sweater. Our Northern Stars are pulsing in sync with each other, steady, and confident.
A low murmur ripples through the room as everyone whispers to each other. But it’s the faint words not in English that I hear the loudest. The ones that remind me of just last night when we were blessed.
Ryatt shifts slightly, stepping just enough in front of me to block their view. I watch as he rolls his shoulders back, his spine stiffening to an uncomfortable stature. “Aurielle visited us last night and blessed our union. And with that blessing she’s gifted us with Northern Stars to always guide us back to each other. This is known.”
I watch in fascination as, one by one, each of the males lifts their right hand and covers his own Northern Stars. Their heads dip as they say in unison, “Blessed be the union and may their light shine bright.”
The room stills, the fire crackling the only sound as the temperature drops. Tiny snowflakes fall from thin air. Whispers rise as everyone turns their heads towards the center of the room. The outline of a woman’s figure stands dead center, her hands clasped together. The snow lies perfectly along her shoulders and arms. But it’s the strangest sight. I feel as though I can see her, but at the same time, I can’t see her.
I get the sense that she’s smiling at me before the words fill the room. “My Chosen Nine, we come before you to present the newest bonded pair and our next Dasher.”
Each of the men kneels down on one knee, his head bowed in reverence.
The air vibrates against my skin like drums beating in rhythm with my heart. I can feel the magic in it–ancient in a way that I can’t even fathom when it started. Her voice, soft but commanding, echoes through every corner of the room, seeping into my soul.
