***
The sleigh creaks to a halt just beyond the peppermint gates, its runners gliding over snow that shimmers like sugar crystals under the northern lights. The four of us step out into the hush of Santa’s domain—where the air smells like cinnamon and old magic, and the silence feels thick with anticipation.
Santa’s house looms ahead, cozy and grand, nestled between two towering trees. The trees are bent slightly inward, like they’re bowing in welcome. The roof is frosted with snowso perfect, it looks piped on by a celestial baker. Golden light spills from the windows in warm, flickering waves. The chimney puffs out gentle swirls of gingerbread-scented smoke, and the front door—round and red with a brass bell—seems to hum with enchantment.
The elf steps forward first, boots crunching in the snow, his breath curling in the cold. Nox follows, his coat dusted with frost, eyes scanning the house like he expects it to attack us. I trail behind, holding the snowman's hand.
Before we can knock, the door creaks open.
Inside stands another elf—not the jolly mall version, but a real one. Tall, timeless, with eyes like polished ice and a face like a storm cloud dipped in moonlight. He looks at us, then at Nox, and he smiles.
"Ice, my friend. You brought a new Santa," he says, voice deep and warm. "And guests. Come in. The cocoa’s hot, the fire’s begging for more wood and the season’s waiting."
Nox turns to the elf. "Your name is Ice?"
"Icewick Snowstride. It was not nice to meet you." His gaze flickers to Nox, who stares at him just long enough to make it clear he isn’t impressed. "He is the one who thinks snowmen don’t melt and she is haunted," he tells the other elf.
Nox grins, unbothered. "But we made it work, didn’t we?"
Icewick sniffs, his nose wrinkles like he’d just smelled melted authority. "Barely."
I step between them, the magic between me and Nox pulsing gently, trying to keep the peace.
Icewick sighs and mutters under his breath. "I’ll show you your rooms. We can talk about everything tomorrow."
"Room!" Nox corrects him and intertwines his fingers with mine.
Chapter 10
NOX
The hallway outside our room is dimly lit, sconces flicker with green flames, casting long and dancing outlines across the velvet wallpaper. The scent of cinnamon candles hangs in the air. Neo stands still for a moment, her breath curling in the cold air, eyes locked on the door. Our room is on the third floor, tucked behind a door with a brass knob shaped like a snow globe. The key jingles in Neo’s hand. I step beside her, close enough that she can feel my warmth—yes, it is so cold that my body feels warm. I don’t speak. I'm just looking at her, one brow raised, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
Then, without warning, I slid an arm around her waist and lift her off the ground. Neo gasps, amused. Herhands instinctively grip my shoulders, her fingers curling into the fabric of my coat. I hold her easily, effortlessly, like she weights nothing at all.
"You could’ve warned me," she murmurs in a low voice.
"I could’ve," I say, my eyes gleaming. "But where’s the fun in that?"
Her legs dangle, boots brushing against my thighs, and the scent of firelight and frost wraps around us like a spell.
She opens the door from within my arms, and the room welcomes us. The air inside is thick with heat—not oppressive,but comforting. The room smells of toasted marshmallows and something older… like enchanted pine and centuries old candle smoke.
The walls are wrapped in a deep evergreen velvet, embroidered with golden thread. The swirling patterns are in the shape of stars and reindeer mid-flight. Tiny enchanted lights blink softly in the corners, casting a warm amber glow. A small table holds a tray with enchanted cocoa mugs. The Christmas tree stands tall, its ornaments glow softly, each one containing a flicker of a memory: laughter, kisses, wishes made under moonlight. A grand stone fireplace dominates one wall, its mantle draped in garlands of frosted ivy and glowing ornaments. The fire crackles with golden flames, sending waves of cozy heat through the room. Above it hangs a portrait of a regal elf in a red velvet coat, eyes twinkling with mischief and wisdom. The bed is a masterpiece carved from snowy birch wood, with candy-cane stripes spiraling up each leg. The duvet is thick and plush, patterned with snowflakes that sparkle faintly in the firelight. Pillows of crimson and gold are stacked like gifts ,and two stockings hang from the bedpost.
Snow gently falls outside the frosted windows, but the room stays perfectly warm.
***
Steam curls lazily through the air, softening the edges of the bathroom. Candles flicker on the windowsill, casting golden reflections across the tiled walls. The tub is nearly full; the water is shimmering with hints of candy apple oil and snowflakes drifting on the surface. A plush red towel hangs nearby, warmed by the radiator. Neo lets her silk robe slide from her shoulders as she steps into the water.
She lets the warmth kiss her skin, the scents of winter rising around her. Outside, snow taps gently against the glass, a rhythmic hush that makes the room feel even more like acocoon. Her fingers trail through the water, testing its heat, and a small smile plays on her lips.
"What can I get you, nightshade?" I sit down on the edge of the tub.
"Mulled wine," she replies, her voice husky.
I lean in, "That drink is too simple for a lady like you."
