Zilla claps. "This is going to besofun!"
With a dramatic flourish, I reach into my coat pocket and pull out a crumpled piece of parchment—creased, slightly sticky, and glittering faintly with what might be gumdrop residue.
I hold it up. "Okay, I made a list."
Zilla gasps. "Is it cursed?"
"No..." I say, smoothing it out on the counter. "It’s festive."
Chapter 18
NOX
Ilean against the candy shop counter, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded with my signature look of quiet calculation. When Neo takes a crumpled piece of parchment out of her coat pocket and reads it to us… her voice full of theatrical flair and snow still melting in her hair…
She is everything I want. I watch her with that slow-burning intensity that makes Zilla pause mid-toad cuddle and whisper, "Nox, are you okay, or are you plotting something?"
Neo doesn’t notice, she is too busy declaring war on Mournton’s lack of festive spirit. But Zilla knows.She sees it in the way my eyes linger on Neo, like I’m trying to memorize everything she is. She notices it in the silencebetweenme and Neo. She feels it in the air when Neo and I are near each other… it’s charged, trembling, as if lightning is about to strike. She knows I’m obsessed, how my hunger isn’t just a feeling of wanting, it’s a need. It’s a gnawing ache curling inside me, playing like a melody made of longing. She knows I crave Neo as much as blood, that my obsession is an all-consuming spell I cannot break.
Neo blinks once, then mutters:
"Carolers in matching blood-red cloaks, to sing eerie, minor-key versions of classic carols, with ghostly harmonies and fogmachines. Slightly asymmetrical gingerbread skeletons, with white icing and edible glows-in the-dark glitter. Reindeer skeleton petting zoo. Mystery hot cocoa fountains, with cocoa laced with cinnamon, served in cauldron-shaped mugs. A meet and greet in the crypt, with a velvet wearing Santa that talks in riddles, his sleigh pulled by bats. A snowball charity toss, with targets that giggle and vanish when they’ve been hit. Proceeds go to the Haunted Orphanage Fund."
Zilla laughs and claps happily. "It’s perfect."
"Y’all need therapy." The elf stands up, and I give him a casual kick with my boot—nothing violent, just enough force and sound to make it a warning.
He jumps slightly, glaring at me.
"Relax, Rudolf. Everything’s going to be perfect."
The elf narrows his eyes. "You people are terrifying."
Chapter 19
NEO
Ilook out the frosted shop window, watching snowflakes swirl in the wind like tiny dancers. "Mournton’s looking more gray than merry," I say, my breath fogging up the glass. "We need something remarkable."
Zilla, bundled in a crimson scarf that matches her fiery determination, taps her chin thoughtfully. "Well the hot elf is giving everyone your list."
"Zilla!" I almost hit my forehead against the glass.
"What? I have eyes," she says, grinning. "He’s got that whole ‘mysterious North Pole rebel’ thing going on."
When I’m about to respond, a sudden gust of wind sweeps through the square. It’s Nox emerging like a storm cloud from the shadows.
"Seriously?" Nox says, arms crossed. "He looks like a fucking walking Christmas card."
Zilla raises an eyebrow. "And that’s a bad thing because?"
Nox rolls his eyes. "I’m just saying, if you’re going to crush on someone, at least pick someone who doesn’t look like ‘Elf on the shelf’."
I step between them, hands raised. "Okay, okay, let’s not turn this into a holiday roast."
Zilla laughs. "Too late. Nox just lit the yule log, and I won’t date Zeke!"
I blink and turn to Nox. "Zeke? Your Zeke?"
