“You’re so wise. And so nonchalant about someone possibly being super nosy.”
“Someone’s got to keep a cool level head over the idea of love potions and meddling Solstice magic and ornaments that bring true love’s kiss, like some fairy tale.”
She snorts a laugh and drinks her chai. Her hair, still slightly disheveled from our driveway clearing work, shines in the sun. Her cheeks have warmed; they are now a plump, rosy pink, matching her mittens. I have to pinch myself that she is really here, sitting with me, having breakfast with me. How did I get so lucky?
After a while, Luca comes by to clear our plates and deliver a hot apple turnover with two forks. It’s been interesting watching Ravena’s mate navigate our small-town life. He’s approached living and working here with gusto, and while werewolves aren’t my favorite creature—too many close encounters with wolves in the mountains—Luca seems to essentially be a golden retriever. “Ravena wanted to gift this to the both of you. She says, and I quote, ‘True love’s kiss is not some fairy tale.’” He grins a cheesy grin at us both. “Enjoy!”
“Oof. You didn’t tell me she had supersonic hearing. Is she human?”
“There’s no telling in Moonfang. It’s best just to enjoy the pastry and not think too hard about whether it contains a potion.”
“Well, I’m already in love, so I suppose there’s no harm.”
Now it’s my turn to give Addy a ridiculously cheesy grin. I can tell from her surprised reaction that I’ve nailed it. My cheeks feel weird; I can’t remember the last time I smiled this wide.
“I need to talk to Poppy about crashing in her spare bedroom for a while, after I pack up my things at university.” We’re bouncing down the road in my truck. Her sentence has me slamming on the brakes.
“What? Why?”
Addy sighs a sigh that says, don’t overreact. “Well, I have to complete my paperwork for dropping out, and pick up my things. But I don’t have enough savings to put a deposit down on a place here. So I figure I’ll stay with Poppy, help with the baby, until I can get a job and my own place.” As an afterthought she grumbles, “Probably end up working at Stone Barrel Brewery.”
“There’s no reason for you to stay with them—unless you really want to.” My fingers drum the edge of the steering wheel, trying to assess my best move here, like in a game of chess.
“Where else would I stay?” My head snaps to her. Her voice, light and airy, matches her big doe eyes blinking at me.
“Are you—are you messing with me?” My heartrate increases. The edge of her mouth curves ever so slightly. Oh. I like this coy, playful Addy. Letting out a growl, her pulse flutters on the side of her neck.
“I wouldn’t say I’m messing with you. More like, trying to suss out what’s realistic. It doesn’t make sense to assume I can stay with you and the Quill family. After all, it might be too crowded.” As she speaks, I lean toward her, a low growl still in my throat. When she finishes, she rolls her lips in, a giveaway that she’s trying not to smile.
“I’d say, you’d better run. And if I catch you, then you’re staying with me. I’ll kick the Quills out if I have to. You’re mine, my mate. I need you to understand that deep in your bones. You belong with me.”
Her eyes soften at my words, but then she reaches behind her, opens the door, and practically falls out of the truck into the snowbank. By the time I’m out of the truck, she’s on her feet and attempting to run away, throwing snowballs at me as I get closer.
Tackling her in the snow, we’re both laughing and out of breath. I brush the loose hair out of her face and declare, “You’re mine. Always.”
She kisses me, but before we can get carried away, I haul her up and carry her to the truck. Don’t want her getting cold.
We make our way home. To our home. Whether it’s Solstice magic or a bewitched ornament that has brought us together, I know that what we have is true and long-lasting.
Epilogue
Addy
Winter Solstice, Next Year
Swirls of snow glint in the dying light of day, a confetti that makes me wonder if our local meteorologist was wrong in the “light snow” prediction. Two blizzards on the Winter Solstice, a year apart? Is this part of the Moonfang tradition? As I walk into Stone Barrel Brewery, where the party is, I remind myself to ask Ravena.
Thinking of the potential of a blizzard reminds me of last year’s blizzard—my introduction to life in Moonfang, and to my mate. How wild has this year been? The cheer that goes up as I stomp my boots at the doorway rattles those reminiscings away.
My nephew, Kai, squeals as he toddles toward me. His pale green skin, bright eyes, and giant grin melt my heart all over again as I pick him up and kiss his chubby cheeks. When I asked if he was walking too early, Koru just snorted and said, “Kai is right on time. Orclings are strong and fierce.” Kai then twisted Koru’s nose and laughed. Yup, super strong and fierce.
The brewery is decorated with even more Christmas and Solstice décor than last year. And yes, I helped. Intricate three-dimensional paper snowflakes hang from the ceiling beams. Anything vertical has red velvet ribbon spiraled around it. In the corner, with help from August, we paper mâchéd a scene of reindeer—complete with enormous bows around their necks, but no red noses—and a delightful representation of the Quill family. August didn’t understand my insistence on including a family of hedgehogs, but they are just as important to me as traditional myths and legends.
So far, everyone seems to enjoy the decorations. Several kids are petting the hedgehogs, which warms my heart. This fall, we built an insulated house for the Quill family outside. They still come into the house, but mostly, they’re cozy and happy outside.
“I have just the beverage you need,” Ravena says as she sidles up next to me. She hands Kai a sippy cup of milk, and me a spicy chai with whipped cream and chocolate shavings.
“How do you know this is what I need?” I ask, much bolder after a year of interacting with her.
