by Zoe Chant
“Depends,” Claire said slowly. “What’s their prize?”
“A courier dropped it off this morning.” Malcolm pulled a small box from his pocket. Within, a golden chain rested, with a pendant of a tiny, sparkling snowflake.
“Oh, that’s gorgeous,” Claire breathed.
“Spencer and Son,” he said proudly. “Jewelers. And coincidentally also customers of mine. Those are real diamonds, by the way.”
“Now that should get us a nice turn out.” Claire studied the glittery snowflake with awed admiration. “Not only the kids, but also their parents. We’ll make a real event out of it—with music and a ball afterward, maybe.”
“If you and Raul have time to take part, I’ll volunteer to snap some pictures in the maze—”
“Definitely,” she said firmly. “I’m sure he’ll love that idea.”
Malcolm gave her another of his toothy grins. “Then I’ll leave you to your list. Don’t forget—I need receipts for everything.”
“By the end of the week,” Claire said and laughed as she accompanied him to the door. “Got it.”
Once he was gone, she pulled out her phone. No message from Raul—which was a good sign. It meant no clues—but also no further hints that someone had tried to kill them.
Dinner this evening? she texted.
I was planning on taking you out tonight, he replied a minute later. I’ve got a surprise. Dress warmly.
Claire was smiling so widely at her phone that her face ached.
When was the last time someone had made her feel like this? All of a sudden she felt as if she could take on all the work in the world, if only at the end of it, she’d get a date with her own, incredibly sexy dragon out of it.
I can’t wait, she replied.
Then she turned on some music, took a deep breath, and dived into the pile of still unsorted paperwork to start on Malcolm’s list of missing receipts.
Chapter Ten: Raul
The small town called Christmas Valley came alive as soon as the sun sank towards the horizon. While during the day, snowmen in the gardens greeted every visitor, with the coming darkness the true attraction of the tiny town sprung to life.
There were lights all over, decorating trees, houses, hedges and fountains. It seemed as if in every window, there were candles burning, and most of the houses with a garden lining the street had a fir tree or two which had been loving decorated with colorful baubles and brilliant lights.
Raul couldn't help but admire the effect, for all that he'd always claimed to hate Christmas. With the early darkness, the lights everywhere created a festive atmosphere. He almost understood why Claire loved the season so much—even though the dragon within him would always dislike the cold.
Fortunately, Raul knew how to keep warm...
"Thanks," Claire said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder to pull her close.
Her breath was creating little clouds in front of her face, and her cheeks were reddened from the cold. Even so, her eyes were sparkling with delight, and she'd come well prepared for the weather, with a long scarf and fuzzy mittens.
"This is incredible," she then said as she looked around, laughing softly. "I saw the pictures on their website, but in my job, you're used to those promo shots being ninety percent fake. But this is all real! I feel like we've driven straight to the North Pole."
"Just wait. It gets better." Raul grinned, feeling extraordinarily pleased, just as if the picturesque town was his own.
Don't get used to it, he warned his dragon quietly. It's not our home. We'll never be able to bond with this land. Christmas Valley already has a dragon of its own. We're just guests.
His inner dragon moodily swished his tail, but Raul ignored the dragon's sulking. They'd never have a real dragon's home, because they'd never have their hoard.
But that didn't mean that he couldn't give Claire a human home after her time working at Snow Castle was over.
What mattered was Claire's happiness, and not his dragon.
A snowflake came sailing out of the sky, and Claire made a delighted sound, catching it in her mitten.
A second later, another flake fell. Moments later, they were surrounded by a gentle fall of snowflakes, dancing all around them.
"There's a special eggnog stand I hear we're obliged to test," Raul said and nudged her towards where the road turned a corner. "It's Mrs. Henderson's special, secret recipe."
"In that case we don't want to disappoint her." Claire's eyes were gleaming. She drew off her mittens and reached out for his hand, sighing in appreciation at the natural warmth of his dragon.
"I know you hate winter, but you're perfect for this weather," she said, snuggling closer as they slowly made their way towards the corner. "So much better than these little hand warmers I bought in preparation."
"But less marketable."
Claire giggled. "Not unless there's some mass market production of Rauls that I'm unaware of."
"There's only one of me," he murmured, pulling her close for a gentle kiss. "And I'm all yours."
She sighed in delight, her lips warm and soft against his own. Today, she smelled like orange blossoms and allspice, a tantalizing mixture that made him forget all about his plan for a moment.
"Come on," she then said, the smile on her face widening. "Don't get distracted. I want to see what this secret is all about."
Raul checked his watch. "You'll hear it in a second, actually," he said, chagrined. "I made us late."
He took hold of Claire's hand again, and then led her around the corner.
Before them, a square opened. It was crowded. The sides were lined by stalls, and in every available space in between, people were standing, their heads turned towards the center of the square.
There, a fountain stood, and at the foot of the fountain, a small stage had been raised.
The very moment they turned the corner, the choir standing on the stage began to sing: around thirty children of all ages, arranged by size, beaming proudly at the crowd.
“It’s the annual concert of the school choir,” Raul whispered as he tugged Claire with him. Instinctively, people made way for him as they felt the presence of his dragon, even though they might not know him personally.
Delighted, Claire cuddled against him. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, holding her as close as he could. And then they watched—and listened.
For half an hour, the choir sang, starting with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer—for which the elderly teacher conducting them put on a red nose. It lit up, making some of the youngest break out into giggles in the middle of the song.
He could feel Claire shake silently in his arms, although she managed to remain quiet.
As the choir sang, snow kept falling gently all around them. Fairy lights glittered in the trees and the gentle warmth of candlelight filled the windows of the houses that lined the square.
By the end, Claire’s head was tilted against his, their fingers entwined as they listened quietly to the final notes of White Christmas. Then the crowd erupted in applause all around them. Children jumped off the stage to race straight towards the proud parents who’d gathered to watch, one of the youngest shrieking with delight when the man who’d been standing next to them during the concert lifted her high up into the air.
“Like an angel. Grandma says you were singing like a little angel,” he said while the little girl giggled. Then she breathlessly held out her arms towards her grandma, who happily indulged her with a kiss and produced a candied apple from behind her back.
“That was lovely,” Claire said when she turned in Raul’s arms, her eyes fond. “Really. I didn’t even know it, but I needed that. Some time away from work and the castle, spending an evening with real people, with real homes. It’s all very well to get to live where other people go for their vacation—but it’s also good to remember that there’s more than that.”
“We all need more than that,” Raul said softly. The old pain ma
de his heart ache once more as his dragon twisted restlessly inside him, forever cut off from the hoard that was the closest thing a dragon knew to home.
Around Claire’s neck, the golden chain was gleaming, and he made himself focus on that. Almost immediately, his dragon settled down. The gold sang a seductive song, even now—a melody only a dragon could hear. Warm from Claire’s skin, it sounded like nothing he’d ever heard before.
It calmed his dragon, centering him. Here, in his arms, he held his mate, who was wearing his gold.
Perhaps he’d been wrong. Perhaps even his dragon could learn to live without a hoard and land of his home, because this, more than anything, felt like true home.
“Look,” Claire said after a moment, nudging at him. “They’re building something else.”
Someone had begun to put down several boxes on the stage, and two men were carrying a desk onto it.
“The evening isn’t over yet,” Raul said and grinned. “This is the yearly dragon auction. The children made them. It’s considered good luck to have a dragon on your tree.”
“What about the castle’s tree?” she asked.
Raul’s smile widened. “It’s tradition that the castle’s dragon buys one. It’s for charity, so feel free to bid outrageous amounts. Every now and then, one of the locals will bid against the dragon to drive the price up high, but it’s always in good faith. The dragon will always outbid anyone else. And if no one bids against you, I’ve got Henrik’s approval to just silently round up the amount to a hundred K.”
“A hundred... dollars?” Claire asked.
“A hundred thousand.”
Claire’s eyes widened at his answer. “Is that coming out of the castle budget?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “Because I can tell you that I’ve got those numbers right in my office, and there’s nothing budgeted for ridiculous donations.”
“It’s coming out of the dragon’s hoard,” Raul said quietly. “It’s the main reason why I’m here. I’m distant family, which is the only way he could get his dragon to part with some of his hoard while he’s absent. And this is an old tradition. He could have just written them a check before he left—but this is as important to the locals as it is to him. The people here take care of their dragon, and in turn, the dragon takes care of them.”
Claire made a thoughtful sound as she eyed the stage and the people that had begun to eagerly gather around it to get a good look at the dragons.
“In that case, come on! We’ll miss out on the best spots,” she declared, grabbing his hand to pull him towards the stage.
Surprised, Raul laughed but went along willingly. Good-naturedly, their competitors made space for them, although several eyed Raul with renewed interest. They might not have met him before, but they knew that there was a dragon in residence at the Snow Castle for Christmas, even if their own dragon had been called away with his mate.
“See anything you like?” Raul asked.
Before them, tiny dragons were spread out on the desk and several stands to display them to the crowd. They were made from colorful paper, decorated with glitter and glue and crayons. A few of the older children had worked with wood or papier mache. And at the back of the small stage, several boxes seemed to hold even more dragons.
“Every house in the village will want a dragon on their tree,” Raul murmured. “There are enough for every family to win a bid. So just pick the one you like best. You’re not ruining anyone’s chances.”
There was a sudden wave of applause starting to their right. A moment later, a man stepped out of the crowd there, still laughing and shaking hands before he came onto the stage.
“That’s the mayor, Mr. Harris,” Raul whispered to Claire.
He was an older man, his hair and beard silver. He gave the crowd a happy wave from the stage, apparently completely in his element. And then, with a flourish, he pulled a Santa hat from a pocket and put it on. At the press of a button, lights began to flash, and the crowd laughed and cheered.
“Now you all know what we’ve gathered here for,” he shouted.
A moment later, an assistant wearing an elf costume hastened onto the stage and pressed a microphone into his hand.
“Is this thing on? Test, test,” the mayor’s voice suddenly boomed over the crowd, the children shrieking with delight while the mayor gave them a sheepish look.
Hastily, the assistant elf returned and grabbed the microphone out of his hand, fiddling with the settings until she finally returned it to him.
“Dear friends and guests,” the mayor said, then paused with obvious surprise when his voice came out loud and clear. “It works! Thank you, Marsha. Now, where was I?”
“Just start already!” the man next to Raul shouted with a grin. A moment later, the children began to chant “Auction! Auction!” and the mayor raised his hands in surrender.
“Auction! Yes, that’s what we’re all here for. I’ll save you the speeches. Let me just mention that this year’s donations will go to a new playground for the school, as well as new supplies to keep our arts program going for another year.”
“New swings! New swings!” the children next to them chanted in unison. On the other side of the crowd, a young boy raised his hands to his mouth and shouted “I want a wooden castle to climb!”
The mayor chuckled. “Suggestions welcome after the auction. Come and find me by the popcorn stall. My daughter’s got some exciting new flavors this year.”
“Cut the speeches!” the man next to Raul shouted again while his children giggled.
In turn, the mayor waved a threatening finger at him.
“As my son so kindly reminded me—time for the dragons!” he then declared, and his elf helper put a first selection of dragons up on his desk. “Our first dragon of the year, painted a lovely purple with silver glitter. Do I hear a bid?”
Chapter Eleven: Claire
All around them, people were talking in delight. Every now and then, an arm would shoot up into the air and another dragon would find a new home.
Claire leaned against Raul, watching the small event with delight.
“Makes you wish you could live here all year round, doesn’t it?” she said softly.
“It’s a bit too cold for that.” Raul pretended to shiver. Then he pressed his cheek against her hair, wrapping his arms around her once more. “But I know what you mean. It feels like a good place to live. With good people.”
“But they already have a dragon.” Claire watched fondly as a five-year-old with adorable black curls bounded up the stairs to retrieve the dragon her grandmother had just won. “If they didn’t, though... Is this the sort of place you could see yourself living in?”
Raul was quiet for a moment. She wondered what he thought. He’d told her about his past, but it still seemed strange to her that he should feel so unmoored. After all, most people were able to settle down and find a home, without any treasure of their own.
And if they were to settle down together—would he forever regret it? Would he be the kind of guy who’d forever long for something he couldn’t have?
“You know,” he said finally, sounding a little surprised, “I actually think I could. Even with all the snow. Don’t tell Henrik though. We dragons are very territorial.”
She touched the golden chain around her neck, smiling a little. “A compromise then,” she said lightly. “Snow in the winter, sun in the summer.”
“You would have loved my family’s old place.” Raul sounded wistful. “There was another mountain town nearby, but not quite as snowy as this place. We only got snow in the winter, and there were hot springs so that even in winter, you could bathe. And in the summer, it was glorious, the sun shining down on mountain meadows, rainbows glistening over waterfalls, the air rich with the scent of wild flowers. But after our hoard was stolen, we couldn’t keep the place—it wouldn’t have been fair to drag everyone on that mountain down into bankruptcy with us. My grandfather and then my dad used to make sure that everyone had a job
, but without our money... My dad sold our house to an investor. I haven’t been back since, I couldn’t bear it. I hope life’s been treating them well. It’s hard for mountain towns in this economy...”
Silently, she turned in his arms to look at him.
I should have known. He isn’t someone who’s moping over lost money. He’s just someone who cares. A lot.
“We’ll find a place we both love,” she said softly, winding her own arm around his back in reassurance.
In his eyes, she could still see the gleam of distant flames, and for a moment, she could see him soar—a dragon like a living flame, riding the currents of air above a generous house built on a mountain meadow.
What must it be like to lose that freedom? The only time she’d seen him shift, she’d been terrified, thinking she was plunging to her death.
But even despite the overwhelming terror, she couldn’t forget the majesty of him. He’d been a creature of power, graceful and dangerous as he beat his wings and rode the wind.
All of a sudden, it seemed incredibly unfair that someone, long ago, had stolen this from him. Maybe she couldn’t understand what it meant to lose a dragon’s hoard—but she could understand what it felt like to lose her freedom.
If I could no longer do my job, if I were to lose everything I’ve worked so long and so hard for...
His face softened as he looked at her. His eyes still shone with warmth, but the ghostly sheen of distant flames was gone.
“We will,” he said with determination. “Maybe we won’t have a mountain of our own, but we’ll have a home. A real home, with neighbors like these.”
Warmth rushed through Claire, and she nodded voicelessly. The strange connection between them had sprung to life once more, and she could feel his love and protectiveness rush into her, filling her with heat until it felt like his love burned as brightly as a bonfire.