by Zoe Chant
“You’re sick?”
“Not quite.” Jasper ran his thumb over Abigail’s knuckles, staring deep into her eyes. “This Christmas is a… well, it was always going to be a difficult time for me.”
“And I made it worse.” Abigail’s mouth went tight and she looked away.
“No. You made it better. So much better than I ever could have imagined. What happened last night was…” Jasper hunted for a way to explain that wasn’t too much, too fast. Abigail looked like she was on the edge of breaking down already. He couldn’t push her over the edge. “My dragon isn’t the sharpest spoon in the drawer. When it thought you didn’t want us anymore, didn’t want me, it almost broke out. I’m sorry I ran away. It was either that or shift in the middle of town.” He paused. “Maybe I should have.”
Abigail made a noise that was half-hiccup, half-laughter. “Last night? In the middle of the square? I would have freaked out so hard, I went into orbit.” She pulled her hand off her cheek and wiped her face, then sat with both of Jasper’s hands in her own, staring hard at the surface of the water. “I drove you away. No, don’t try to tell me I didn’t. I drove you away, and I meant to. That’s what I have to explain.”
Jasper’s dragon shook inside him. He knew that if he hadn’t been holding Abigail’s hands, it would have been last night all over again. He pushed his dragon down, reminding it that she had come to him; that she had saved him; that she had seen him shift, and brought him here to care for him, and hadn’t run away. The least he and his dragon could do was hear her out without busting the roof off the cottage and disappearing into the sky.
He kept his eyes fixed on Abigail as she spoke. She kept hers fixed on the water.
“I told you I hate Christmas, but I never told you why. When I was a kid, I guess I looked forward to it as much as anyone. Santa, presents, carols, a big Christmas tree with decorations and a star on top… all of that. I was too young to realize those aren’t the important things about Christmas.
“After my parents separated, all of that stopped. I figured out pretty quick that Santa didn’t exist. The first year, my parents were meant to have Christmas together. I think Mom wanted to give it one last go. One last attempt at playing Happy Families. We did up the whole house, tree, outdoor lights, everything. She spent all the day before cooking.”
Jasper’s stomach twisted. He could guess what was coming.
“Dad never turned up. Mom couldn’t eat anything after she realized he wasn’t coming, she said it made her feel sick, so we just threw everything out. Decorations, presents, all of it.” Abigail took a deep breath. “The next year, Dad was meant to take me for part of the day, but he didn’t. Or any year after that.”
She wiped her face again and sniffed. “At first I thought it was my fault. That if I hadn’t been there that first Christmas after they separated, if I hadn’t asked for so many presents, maybe Mom and Dad would have gotten back together. I mean, obviously that’s stupid. They wouldn’t have. I figured that out soon enough. But every year that Dad didn’t come and see me…
“I learned not to expect anything for Christmas. Or even to want to expect anything, because it’s so easy to be disappointed even if you tell yourself you’re not going to be. So after Mom passed, I moved up here, and I stopped doing Christmas at all. I spent a few years just drinking through the holiday, and then I got it under control. I came up with a system that worked for me. My Christmas System. As much work as I could manage without passing out behind the counter, and then home to sleep. Rinse, repeat. So long as I didn’t allow myself any time to think about what I was missing out on, I was fine.” She grimaced. “And a good helping of convincing myself it was all bullshit and I wasn’t missing out on anything, anyway.
“And then you came along.”
“And turned your system upside down.” Jasper’s heart was breaking for his mate. All those years of thinking she wasn’t good enough. “I wish I’d found you years ago. You deserve so much better than that.”
“It was the only way I could think of to deal with it. Telling myself that the reason I never tried, never reached out to anyone, was because there was nothing about Christmas that I wanted. Christmas trees, and carols, and presents— as if that was all that Christmas was about.” Her voice went small. “I don’t think I even realized how unhappy I was, still, until I met you. And once I did, I was so afraid. I thought, this can’t last, and what happens when everything goes wrong and you decide I’m not worth the effort anymore?”
Jasper’s chest twisted. He thought he understood. “Last night, taking me up to the attic— that was you reaching out. A Christmassy olive branch. And when we found the leak…”
“I couldn’t handle it. I thought, this must be it. I tried to break out of my shell, and the universe smacked me down.” Abigail bit her lip, but this time Jasper didn’t find it adorable. He felt heartsick.
“I didn’t know,” he said softly, knowing it wasn’t enough.
Abigail snorted, blinking hard. “Well, I tried not to go around advertising just how fucked up I am, so that’s no surprise.”
Jasper squeezed her hands. Everything made sense. Of course she had pulled away— she’d thought everything was falling down around her, so she’d ripped the band-aid off quickly rather than drawing it out. His heart hurt for her. If he’d only told her sooner…
“I knew you were scared,” he told her, and she looked up at him, startled. “Not why, but I knew something was wrong. There had to be a reason you were so spiky.” He smiled sadly at her. “I should have told you I was a dragon shifter earlier. I should have explained you never had to be afraid that I would leave you. But I was scared, too.”
Abigail frowned. “You were scared. But you—” She half-laughed and waved one hand, sending droplets flying. “You can turn into a dragon. What could you possibly be afraid of?”
“Being alone.” Inside him, Jasper’s dragon shuddered. This was it. He had to tell her the whole truth. “And losing myself.”
Abigail stared at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but clear, and filled with concern.
Jasper steeled himself, and told her everything.
17
Abigail
Earlier, Abigail couldn’t believe her eyes. Now, she couldn’t believe her ears. What Jasper was telling her… it couldn’t be true.
She looked deep into his eyes, and bit back a sharp, bitter reply. There was nothing but honesty in his ember-bright gaze.
“But… me?” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “What’s so special about me?”
“You’re my mate,” Jasper said simply, his eyes full of love. “My destiny. The one person I’m meant to spend my life with.”
“I—” she began, and then reality took hold again. Of course. It wasn’t her that was important. Not who she was, just what she was. Abigail George, brown-haired human female; not Abigail George, terrible and useless human being.
“Stop it.” Jasper’s voice was warm and teasing, but with a steel core.
“Stop what?” Abigail said automatically. He couldn’t read her mind, could he? She bit her lip.
Jasper reached out and smoothed his thumb over her lower lip until she stopped biting it. “You’re telling yourself it isn’t true, or you’re not good enough. It’s not a mistake. You’re my mate. I knew it the moment I met you.”
Abigail didn’t want him to stop stroking her lip, but she couldn’t stop herself. “You mean, it’s nothing to do with me. Just what I look like, or being in the right place at the right time, or—”
“None of that.” Jasper stroked her cheek. “The spark was there the moment I saw you, yes. But I didn’t know for sure until I got to know you. And once I knew you, how could I do anything else but fall in love with every spiky, grumpy, beautiful bit of you?” His eyes went soft. “You told yourself and everyone else that you hated Christmas, but the first time I ever saw you, you were crawling on a roof to get a present for a little kid. Even when you’re hurting,
your kindness shines out of you. And the last few days have only confirmed just how strong and wonderful you are.”
Abigail’s breath caught in her throat. Jasper’s eyes were like firelight dancing on gold. No one had ever looked at her like he had. And she—
“But I think I love you,” she whispered, the words kindling in her heart and flying from her lips before she knew what she was doing.
Delight shone from Jasper’s face. He laughed, pulling her close. “‘But’?” he asked, kissing her as water sloshed over the side of the bath. “I love you, too, Abigail. With all of my heart.”
“But…” Abigail’s mind clutched for some argument, some downside. It must be there, somewhere. The catch. The trick. The penny about to drop. “But… if I love you and you love me…”
Jasper’s eyes smoldered into hers. “Then we’ll have to live happily ever after,” he purred.
All the walls Abigail had built around her heart fell away, dissolving like mist in sunlight. “Oh,” she said, feeling light-headed. Then: “Really? Can we?”
Jasper laughed. “Of course. Starting right now.” He kissed her again, the touch of his lips against hers like lightning, and then stood up. Water cascaded off his body, making him shimmer in a way that reminded Abigail of his dragon’s scales. Light glimmered off his chest and abs, and the long, lean muscles of his thighs. “There’s only one thing left. Will you be mine, Abigail? Will you let me claim you as my mate?”
“Didn’t you already do that?” Abigail stood up, less sure on her feet in the slippery bath than Jasper was. He steadied her, his hands around her waist.
“There’s a ritual.” Jasper hesitated, his cheeks tinging pink. “You… uh… you know the stories about how dragons have hoards, right?”
“What, giant piles of gold?” Abigail was joking, but Jasper nodded. “You’re not telling me—”
“I have a giant pile of gold in a cave up the mountain,” Jasper said quickly, then froze, waiting for her reaction.
Abigail looked up at him, bemused. “And… you’re telling me this because…?”
Jasper licked his lips. For the first time, he looked— shy?
Jasper, shy?
“Hey, I just bared my heart to you,” she joked, prodding him in the chest. “Come on. Spill.”
He grabbed her poking hand and gently bit the tip of her finger. “For me to officially claim you as my mate, we have to lie together on my hoard,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.
“Lie together… you mean— ?” Abigail felt her cheeks blaze red. “Like, sleep together?”
“Well I wouldn’t advise sleeping on it. I think that would be a bit uncomfortable. But…” He smiled shyly. “Yes. Essentially.”
“Oh.” Abigail considered. They were already in the bath, and she’d kind of assumed they would stay there for any “lying together”, but…
She looked down Jasper’s body. God, he was so gorgeous. And he must have been having some of the same thoughts as she was, because his cock was half-hard already.
“You said something about being on a deadline,” she said, staring questioningly into his eyes. “Is this claiming something to do with that?”
Jasper nodded. “I don’t want to pressure you,” he explained. “That’s why I waited so long. But if I don’t claim my mate by my twenty-fifth birthday, I stop being a shifter. I have to choose whether to be just human, or just dragon— forever.”
No! Abigail was surprised by the certainty that shot through her. Jasper was trying to hide it, but it was clear the thought distressed him. The corner of his mouth was twitching. She narrowed her eyes. There was something he still wasn’t telling her.
“When is your birthday?” she asked.
Jasper’s mouth quirked into a guilty half-smile. “Midnight,” he admitted. “Or, if you want to be exact, the first minute of Christmas Day.”
“No wonder you’re so stuck on Christmas.” Abigail groaned and stepped out of the bath. Her coat dragged behind her, sticking to the side of the bath and then her legs. “What are you waiting for? It’s early afternoon already, and I’m assuming by ‘up in the mountain’ you mean your hoard isn’t exactly easy to access—”
“No-o,” Jasper admitted, following her out of the bath. He grabbed an armful of fluffy towels from a cupboard and handed her one. “You’re— you’re sure?”
Abigail paused. Any other day, she would have thought his hesitation meant he was trying to back out— but this was Jasper. That couldn’t be true.
He’d said he was scared to tell her the truth. Why?
“I’m not going to run away,” she said, taking his hand. “I want to do this. To be with you. I don’t want you to lose half of yourself just because I made such a hash of things. Especially when I just found out about the other half of you.”
“We both screwed up,” Jasper reminded her, squeezing her hand. He grinned at her. “But you can’t go out wearing that. You’ll freeze. Come on, I’ve got dry clothes in the bedroom…”
Jasper’s clothes were far too long for Abigail, but she rolled up sleeves and pant legs and buckled on a belt and everything seemed like it was going to stay on. “Right,” she said, hanging her coat up to drip dry. “Let’s— what’s wrong?”
Jasper was standing at the front room window, staring out. “We might have left things a bit late,” he said in a low voice.
“What?” Abigail checked the cuckoo clock on the wall. “It’s not even three yet, you— oh.”
She stood side by side with him, staring out the window. It wasn’t dark outside; it was white. Snowstorm white.
The cottage was thickly insulated, and the windows were triple-glazed. If she concentrated, she could just hear the roar of the weather outside. Outside, visibility was so low she could barely see the snow-drifts piling up around and over her car. “Oh,” she said again, feeling hollow.
“We can’t go out in this.” Jasper’s voice was carefully level. “You can’t. It isn’t safe.”
Abigail clutched his hand. This couldn’t be happening. Not after everything they had been through. “What about you? Could you fly in this?” Jasper nodded, but he looked uncertain. She kept talking before he could change his mind. “If you carry me…”
Half an hour later, they fought their way back into the cottage, defeated by the storm. The snow was coming down so quickly, it had swamped Jasper’s wings, preventing him from flying.
Jasper kicked snow from in front of the door and bundled Abigail in ahead of him. She was shivering, and not only from the cold.
Jasper slammed the door shut as another gust of wind sent snow flurrying in after them. He stood there, staring at the shut door, a look of anguish on his face.
Abigail didn’t know what to say. She went to him and tentatively put her arms around him. His bare skin was chilled, even though he had only shifted back to human form a few seconds before they came back inside.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Jasper dropped his head onto hers. She felt him breathe out, sharp and hard. “Should have checked the forecast,” he said dully, her hair muffling his words. “I was hoping it would snow. But this…”
He fell silent, stroking her hair. His fingers curled against the back of her head and she looked up, searching his eyes.
“I still have you,” he said softly. “That’s more than I could have dreamed of.”
“But without the mate bond— if we can’t make it official…” Abigail gulped. The fire in Jasper’s eyes was so low, she was worried the storm had almost quenched it. “You’ll lose your dragon.”
“But I’ll still have you.”
Abigail swallowed again. She wasn’t enough, she knew, not compared to all the magic he was losing. And it was the magic that had brought them together anyway, wasn’t it? Without that—
“Abigail.” Jasper’s voice was tinged with tired amusement. “Stop it. You’re more than enough. You’re everything.” He kissed her, passionately, hungrily. “My love,” he mu
rmured, his words going straight from his lips to her heart.
Warmth filled Abigail. Warmth, and hope, and love, and all the good feelings she had spent so long being afraid of. She tangled her fingers in Jasper’s hair, where the snow was already melting. He was naked from the shift, and his body was hard against hers. The chill on his skin was fading, and she felt his heat even through all her winter layers. She was desperate for his touch.
And sad. So desperately, heartbreakingly sad for her wonderful Jasper, who loved Christmas and loved her and was about to lose half of his soul.
And there was nothing she could do to help him. She’d leapt off the cliff and now they were both falling.
But not alone. Together. She’d reached out for his hand and he’d taken it, just as she had taken his.
Because he’d been afraid she would run away when she found out what he was. And now? Was he still afraid, that she would leave him alone in his time of absolute need? She wouldn’t blame him if he was. He knew how brittle she was, and she had already run driven him away once.
She slid her hands up Jasper’s chest. His heart beat like thunder under her palms.
“I have something for you,” she told him, her heart in her throat.
One final Christmassy olive branch. Not much. Not enough. But a small symbol for her Christmas-loving dragon, something to show him she had come to give him her heart, even before she knew he was a shifter. And that she would still stay, now, with the human Jasper. No matter what.
She darted over to the coat rack and rummaged in her dripping jacket’s pocket. It had to still be here— yes! Soaking wet and the Christmas wrap was starting to disintegrate, but still in one piece.
Abigail turned to Jasper, holding out her gift. “Merry Christmas,” she said quietly, trying to keep the tears from her eyes.
18
Jasper
Jasper stared at the small parcel his mate was holding out to him. His Abigail, he corrected himself. No. His mate. Even if he was no longer a dragon, she would always be his mate.