The next few minutes are a blur of flying snow, tactical maneuvers, and Oxford looking positively cheerful, blocking snowballs, and charging at Gabe, who doesn’t even flinch.
Eventually, Gabe takes me out, and it comes down to him against Everett.
“Surrender?” Everett calls.
“Never,” Gabe responds.
They both launch snowballs simultaneously, but Everett is a fraction faster, hitting Gabe’s snowball out of the air with a quick follow-up to the chest.
“We did it!” I shout, jumping up and down in victory. “We are the snow champions!”
“Look at Oxford,” Finn calls out. “He looks like he’s doing the bunny hop!”
Oxford vaults forward and upward on all fours, ears flopping and eyes bright, looking like he’s having the time of his life. I’ve never seen him this playful before; his usual dignified demeanor is completely gone as he jumps around.
“Go Oxford,” I yell as I join him in the excitement and attempt a twerking victory dance, but misjudge my footing on the slippery slope. One second, I’m upright, the next I’m falling backward, arms pinwheeling uselessly.
“Melody!” Everett lunges toward me, somehow maneuvering himself beneath me as I fall.
I land on top of him with an “oof,” knocking the breath out of both of us. With neither of our boots on the ground, Everett’s slick snowsuit provides no grip, and we begin sliding down the hillside.
“Hold on!” he yells, wrapping his arms around me as the slope gets steeper and we pick up speed.
I’m using my alpha as a sled!
I’m screaming and laughing, my face buried against Everett’s chest as the world spins around us.
We slow down at the bottom of the hill and are showered in a layer of glittering snow as we bump into a small bush. Everett’s warmth radiates from beneath me, and I brush the snow from his cheeks. We are both breathless with laughter.
I’m exhilarated. Happy. Alive. I’ve never felt so present in a moment, so completely myself.
His face is inches from mine, cheeks flushed from cold and laughter, snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes. Without overthinking it, I close the distance between us and press my lips to his.
He responds with enthusiasm, one hand coming up to cup the back of my neck. His lips are surprisingly warm against mine, gentle but insistent, tasting faintly of peppermint.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
From the top of the hill, I hear Finn call down, “Get a room… and don’t forget to invite us, but preferably somewhere warm. My internal organs are turning into popsicles!”
I laugh, “Hot chocolate for the fallen warrior?” I stand up, brushing myself off, and Everett jumps up beside me, grabbing my hand and eagerly leading me back to the others.
“With marshmallows. Many, many marshmallows. And possibly whipped cream. And caramel. Basically, I need a cup of diabetes.”
Oxford hums in agreement.
“Even the llama thinks I deserve compensation for my trauma,” Finn declares.
“Oxford just recognizes a kindred dramatic spirit,” I tell him, as we make our way towards the grand cabin.
Oxford trots ahead of us up the porch steps, waiting by the door.
“Your Majesty,” I say with an exaggerated bow as I swing the door wide. Oxford inclines his head regally before entering and immediately makes his way to his plush bed, turning in a circle before settling down with a contented sigh.
“I’ll start the hot chocolate,” I offer, unwinding my scarf and hanging it on the hook by the door.
“I’ll help,” Everett says quickly, following me to the kitchen.
“We’ll just… supervise from here,” Finn calls, already sprawled on the couch with Gabe beside him. “My legs have officially gone on strike.”
