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Sugar

I heard voices in the kitchen. My father and Sno. Grant and I came through the dining room, which was all set up for dinner. I stopped in the archway, Grant and Velvet on either side of me.

“Sugar, Grant. You’re right on time.” Sno’s smile was wide.

My father turned. His golden hair, a couple shades darker than mine, cascaded past his red-clad shoulders. He was tall, massive but not overweight, and charisma exuded from him. My father was a Santa of the highest regard.

“Hello, Sugar.” His voice was beautiful. Some people said Santa voices were like flutes from Elfland. Well, I was an elf and I didn’t know anything about Elfland. I only knew my father’s shadow was too huge to fill. And I’d felt that for my entire childhood even though I knew he loved me.

My breath caught. I did love him. Maybe too much, which was why I resented him, too. He was not home much. He was not the father to me that Sno was, and never could be.

“Hello, Father.”

Grant was silent beside me. I longed to look at his face to see his reaction, but I could feel it through our bond. Admiring and astonished. Wary and protective for me just as my true alpha mate should be.

“It’s good to see you, son.”

I knew I should go to him. Embrace him. But I couldn’t.

My father glanced at Grant. “And you must be Grant.”

“Yes. Good to finally meet you, sir.” Grant was stiff as he spoke. Formal.

It felt good. He would always be on my side. Pride flickered through our bond.

It was my father who took the first step forward. He put out his hand. Grant took it and they shook. Then Father turned to face me. His scent was pine and peppermint with a hint of ash.

“My magic is strong to lead you to such a fine alpha.” He looked at my protruding belly. “Twins, I hear?”

I nodded.

“I’m very happy for you both.”

My eyes stung. I decided to go for it right now, before the meal. “But why, Father? Why did you do such a spell? What you did to me was terrifying.”

Father’s face became pinched as if he were in pain. He replied softly, “Santa magic is not dark magic. It is from the light. Trust in the magic; it always brings you to the good, and to the gift you need the most.”

“But I didn’t know that.”

Sensing my distress, Sno came closer to my other side. Grant gripped my hand hard.

“No one knows what Santa magic will discover when it’s ripe and ready,” Father added.

“But you put that spell on me in anger.” I puffed out my chest as much as I could with such a swollen belly.

My father’s eyes closed. He nodded. “I did.”

“I know I did bad things, but I thought I was dying.”

Grant spoke up. “On Christmas Eve, we counted down the minutes. He was afraid he’d turn back into a figurine forever.”

“And you cut me off from Sno. And from most of my money.”

Sno touched my shoulder. “The magic did that. I had no control after it was released.”

“You didn’t?” I asked.

Father shook his head. “I will not blame you if you never forgive me. But it’s best to look at what this brought you.”

I put my free hand on my stomach, clutching Grant’s hand with the other.

Suddenly, Velvet walked up to Father and sniffed his hand. Her tongue came out and she licked it twice. Father looked down with a smile, petting her. “Thank you for finding my son,” he said to her.

He knew. He knew she’d found me and not Grant. Somehow, he had made sure. Or his magic had.

“Trust the magic.” Sno spoke softly, under his breath.

Velvet gave a little yip as if she’d been in on the secret the whole time.

Father nodded at Sno with a soft smile.

Some of the tension left my chest, but not all of it. It was going to take time.

“All right, then,” Father said. “Shall we all go to the dining room for some dinner? I’m starving.”

“It’s your favorite,” Sno said to Father. The same words he’d said to me. “Chicken pot pie soup.”

It was the favorite of both of us, one thing I shared with my father.

“I hope you got out the big bowl for me,” Father said.

It was hard not to feel the jolly elf in his presence. The gift giver. Winter’s god. The light-mage. I dropped Grant’s hand and leaned forward as much as my stomach would allow and embraced my father.

He leaned down to hug me back. “Forgive me,” he whispered into my ear.

“Not yet.”

Two days later, the twins came into the world.

I lay in my childhood bed, sweating and moaning as Grant sat behind me for support. He adjusted along with me as sometimes I wanted to be on my side and other times on my hands and knees.

I only wanted Grant with me right now. And the doctor.

Father came home early, which was a shock. He was never home and had missed birthday parties and holidays. But for this, he left his work behind.

The twins were that special.

The doctor said it would be any minute now. He had his monitors set up. And his magic flamed in his aura. My boys would be shifters, I was sure. Flying reindeer shifters. They would be the best of both me and Grant without question.

I strained and pushed. Grant rubbed my back, telling me I was beautiful and perfect. I didn’t feel that way, but I would when this was over. I’d have two wonderful babies to show for it, along with the perfect mate.

The doctor quietly told me to keep pushing. He had already given me something for the pain, but the stress on my body made me keep wanting to pass out. Finally, something gave and I felt a release and a lot of liquid.

“That’s one out and one to go,” the doctor said. He was behind me, busying himself with my newborn.

“Why isn’t he crying?” I yelled.

“Just a moment.”

Grant said, “He’s beautiful, Sugar.”

The baby yelled. I turned partway onto my back to see Grant take him in his arms. The look on his face was pure rapture.

Just then, another contraction rolled through me.

“His brother is coming now,” the doctor announced. “Push. Push!”

On my hands and knees, I let out a loud groan that seemed to vibrate the walls. I felt another release.

“That’s it, that’s perfect,” said the doctor. “Your babies are here. Three minutes apart.”

“Ronin and Ethan,” I said.

I fell onto my side on the birthing pad and saw Grant take the second wailing baby. They had each quieted as soon as Grant had them in his arms.

I lifted my head. “Can I see?”

He tilted them so I could see them both. “Ronin and Ethan,” he said, echoing me.

“We did that.” I smiled through tears of happiness. “You and me.”

“You and me,” he repeated. He kissed each boy on the forehead, then me.

“Figures I’d be in third place now,” I said.

“Always first with me.”

After I was cleaned up and bedding pulled over me, Sno and Father came into the room to meet the babies.

Sno cooed and kissed each boy. Father held them and whispered words I didn’t understand.

“Aren’t you done with spells yet?” I asked. I forced a smile to not sound so rude.

“It is the baby blessing of my kind. I gave one to you, too. It means you are kin of my kin. The magic flows deep in these two.”

“Can you tell yet if they are shifters?”

Father nodded. “Both reindeer. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes. Very much.” I looked at Grant. “Will they fly?”

Grant shrugged. “We’ll see in time.”

“Yes,” Father said. “They are flying reindeer of the most powerful source. They will pull a Santa sleigh someday.”

“You can be sure?”

Father nodded. “I’m sure.”

My heart was full as I held Ethan and Grant held Ronin.

Outside, snow lightly fell. I heard a distant sound of bells. Christmas was coming. I’d gotten my gifts early.