“He finishes the route, he meets the quota?” Aleksi asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
“That’s what I said.”
“Fine.” Aleksi turned to Mikael, jaw set. “Climb on my back.”
Mikael nodded weakly.
The supervisor opened his mouth to object, but Aleksi cut him off. “Company policy says he has to finish the route. Doesn’t say how.” He stared the elf down. “I’ll carry him. And his load.”
“That’s not?—”
“Check your clipboard,” Aleksi growled. “Unless you want to explain to management why you’re preventing a worker from completing his assigned route.”
The elf’s mouth snapped shut. His face flushed, but he knew Aleksi was right. A completed route mattered more than procedure. Aleksi had found the loophole—the tiny crack in the system that let him protect his teammate without technically breaking a rule.
I watched as Mikael hobbled over, his injured leg held gingerly off the ground. Aleksi shifted back into his massive reindeer form, towering over the others. Mikael climbed onto his back, and Aleksi moved to take both of their harness positions.
It should’ve been impossible. The load alone was staggering, not to mention the weight of another body. But Aleksi just lowered his head, dug his hooves into the packed snow, and started pulling.
The elf made another note on his clipboard, a satisfied smirk on his face, and walked away. The rest of the team fell into formation, trying to help distribute the weight, but there was only so much they could do.
I felt sick. Making itAleksi’s choiceto destroy his body in the name of loyalty. Framing it as dedication instead of exploitation. My jaw tightened as anger like I hadn’t felt in years flooded through me. I’d grown numb to my clients’ stories—I’d had to, just to survive it—but seeing this, seeing what had been hidden all along, had my heart pounding.
As the team moved out, Aleksi’s head turned slightly in our direction. For just a moment, his dark-green eyes locked with mine.
The world tilted.
Something snapped into place inside my chest—not like the bond with Kenai and Taimyr, soft and protective. This was rawer. Primal. Like a hook catching under my ribs and pulling tight. My breath hitched; my heart stuttered. I felt the overwhelming urge to run to him—to demand he put down that impossible load, to stand between him and anyone who’d dare hurt him.
Mine, something deep inside whispered.Ours.
Through the bond, I felt Kenai’s sharp inhale. Taimyr’s grip tightened on my arm.
But Aleksi had already looked away, lowering his head against the weight, disappearing around the corner with his team.
I stood frozen, a hand pressed to my chest where that strange new pull still thrummed—like my heart was beating outside my body.
“Sylvie?” Kenai’s voice was careful. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “What was that?”
Kenai and Taimyr exchanged a long look over my head.
“We should get you back to the chalet,” Taimyr said finally. “Now.”
But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t stop staring at the place where Aleksi had vanished, bearing a burden that would’ve crushed anyone else.
Couldn’t stop feeling the pull in my chest that told me this wasn’t over.
Chapter Nineteen
Sylvie
Taimyr flew me back to the chalet at what felt like breakneck speed. I clung to the thick fur around his neck as wind whipped through my hair.What’s wrong?I tried to ask through our bond, but both of them were laser-focused on getting home.
Taimyr landed on the veranda, and Kenai urged me off his back and inside. As soon as the door closed behind us, both men were on me. Taimyr grabbed my face, his tongue demanding entrance while Kenai’s laved up the side of my neck.
“Ours,” Taimyr bit out against my lips.
