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Grant

“ C ome on, Velvet. Let’s go!”

The Aussie shepherd came bounding through the snow, flurries flying all around her. Her brown and black coat was stark against all that white.

I remembered when I first got her as a puppy from the shelter. She was so soft, like velvet, and the name stuck.

We’d bonded immediately. I could finally text my worried cousins back at the North Pole the truth. I’m not alone. I have a companion. Her name is Velvet.

Together, Velvet and I walked through the forest of snow-covered firs back toward my cabin. Through the trees, I could already see the brown wood siding and big windows overlooking the mountains to the north.

Velvet and I took a midmorning walk every day together. It was good exercise for the both of us, and lots of fun. I might’ve departed the North Pole for good, Santa’s Village like another life left behind, but I still loved snow and pine and Christmas. I still loved the scents and sounds of the arctic autumns, the snowstorms, the northern lights, the cold.

As a reindeer shifter, cold didn’t affect me much. In my human form, I loved a warm fire and hot mug of cocoa as much as the next guy, but I didn’t suffer from a bit of ice. Living off by myself was not a hardship. I wasn’t some mountain man, tree-cutter, hunter. I simply liked being by myself. I could have food delivered. Even though I couldn’t fly, I had enough knowledge of the outdoors to make rural living easier. And I had Wi-Fi. What more could I desire?

Jet and Siel, my twin cousins and good friends, thought living alone outside any town was unhealthy.

“Reindeer live in herds,” Jet insisted.

“We’re herd animals,” Siel echoed.

Easy for them to say. They could fly. They weren’t odd or different. They were real alphas with real strength and agility. They both looked the part, too. Six-five and with silver hair to their asses. They’d be pulling one of the Santas’ sleighs someday. I knew it. While here I was, just shy of six feet—short for an alpha reindeer shifter—and my chaotic curls wouldn’t grow much past my shoulders.

If you couldn’t fly, the most you could hope for in the North Pole at Santa’s village was an elf job. Those jobs weren’t bad, but the good ones were competitive and required college degrees and PhDs.

I did go to college earning a degree in graphics and design. But I preferred to work for myself anyway and freelanced. Here, in the lower world mixed in with the humans, I didn’t have to deal with all the hierarchies and the Santa team jealousies and politics that went on. Humans had their own major dramas, but I felt apart from that, so they didn’t affect me much.

I glanced about the beautiful landscape. The snow made everything silent. Cushioned. It smelled fresh and sweet. This was the life. Velvet and I were quite content.

We came to a clearing beneath some trees where the snow wasn’t as deep. The cabin was in full view from here. Velvet went dashing off when she heard the twitter of some bird. Probably a thrush. I heard her barking merrily. Then sudden silence.

I could no longer see her, but when she began to bark again, the tone had changed.

I shuffled along the path she’d made, trying to hurry. When the tree canopy broke showing a heavy gray sky, the snow became thicker again, up to my knees.

I came around a group of trees and saw my dog. She was barking uncertainly at something under one tree. At this point, all I could see was a snow-covered lump lodged against the trunk. I shuffled up behind her.

“What have you found, girl?”

She looked up at me, whined and began digging in the heap of snow.

I leaned down, brushing at the ice with my bare fingers. A specific shape began to appear. Human.

“Dig faster,” I ordered, and fell to my knees to heave more off the body. Velvet dug faster.

When I saw the red suit, I recognized it immediately as elfwear direct from Santa’s Village. The body looked male.

Even though he wasn’t human, I needed to get him dug out fast. Most elves were used to the cold, but still much more susceptible to it than shifters. He could already be suffering from hypothermia for all I knew.

In a minute, Velvet and I had mostly uncovered him. I put my palm to his cheek. It was like ice.

I grabbed his shoulders and tugged, dragging him up over the ice hole that had formed around him. His eyes stayed tightly shut, the eyelids nearly purple. Strangest of all, he had on socks but no boots.

How had he gotten here?

I heaved him up and over my shoulder. His body sagged which was a good sign. If he’d been frozen stiff, I would have had a dead body on my hands.

“C’mon, Velvet,” I called.

We headed as fast as we could toward the cabin.

When we got inside, I placed the elf on the rug closest to the fire. Velvet lay down next to him and began licking his face. Already, his cheeks were getting a pink glow back.

“Go easy on him, girl,” I said.

She looked up, ears pricked.

I got rid of my coat and boots, then brought out a stack of extra blankets from the hall closet. I grabbed a pillow off the couch, stuffed it under his head, and began the task of getting his frozen clothes off.

The pants and blazer were tailormade from the finest of wools. These clothes did not belong to the average middle-class elf. They would have cost as much as one of them made in a month.

Small of stature, he was easy to maneuver. When I had him completely undressed, his socks drying on the hearth, I rubbed him down with one of the blankets. His head moved slightly, and he moaned.

“It’s all right,” I said. “You’re safe.”

Velvet watched closely, wide ears canted forward in concern.

One by one, I piled the blankets over him. I added more logs to the fire, then sat and watched him for a long time.

His shaggy blond hair fell across the pillow. His mouth drew down like a sad pink bow. He had long eyelashes, golden in the firelight, and they brushed against the tops of his soft cheeks. A pert nose gave him a more fairy look than elf. But fairies had long vanished from the magical world as I knew it. He looked young, not much more than eighteen, and the scent of him was definitely omega.

I couldn’t help but be intrigued.

Why had he come here? And how? Without boots or a coat? It was as if someone had dumped him under that tree and left him to die. Who could be so cruel?

I put my hand under the blankets to see if his skin had warmed at all. He was still cold, but not like ice. I adjusted the blankets tighter around him.

After about ten minutes, I got up and set about making hot cocoa. I knew elves loved the drink. Their systems responded to sugar for energy and strength. Unlike humans, where high amounts were toxic and caused disease, elves thrived on sugar. Shifters loved it, too, and I always kept plenty of cocoa supplies and other sweets stored away.

The wonderful cocoa aroma filled the open kitchen and wafted into the front room where Velvet still guarded our patient by the fire.

I brought over a tray with two mugs and set it on the coffee table. I’d also brought a meat treat for Velvet, who wagged her tail and took it to her bed by my favorite big chair.

I put my hand on the elf’s forehead. He didn’t feel cold, but his hair was damp and left streaks on his skin. I grabbed up the rub-down blanket and dried his hair. The crystals caught in it melted away. It was a pretty golden blond color.

The first noise I heard from since finding him was another soft moan.

“Hey, are you awake?” I asked.

Nothing.

Over the blankets, I rubbed his shoulders and up and down his chest. If nothing else, it would get the blood flowing.

Another moan sounded. The blankets began to move.

“Take it easy,” I said. “Your body’s been through a lot.”

“Huh? What?” His voice croaked out the words, hoarse.

“You were half-frozen in a snowbank,” I explained. I wasn’t sure he could understand me yet, but I kept going. “Velvet, my dog, found you. It’s a good thing, too. You were close to freezing.”

He moved his head, then lifted it, his arms coming out from the sides of the blankets to get purchase. He tried to sit up and fell back, then tried again. This time, he succeeded, body rising, lips parted, brows tight with shock.

His first words were, “You have to believe me, I’m not a figurine.”

The blankets fell away from his bare shoulders.

“A what?” The question gusted from my throat.

He looked down at himself, nearly losing his balance. I put a hand to his back to steady him as he held out his arms, turning his hands up, then down. Staring at them. He patted his chest, then his thighs, and looked at me.

“I was frozen.”

“I know. I found you buried in snow.”

“No. I mean in ceramic.”

Hypothermia might have affected his brain. He was making no sense.

He curled his legs beneath the blanket as if to test them. His head turned and he looked at me. “Who are you? Where am I?”

“My name is Grant. And that’s Velvet over there.” I pointed to my dog curled peacefully in her bed and she wagged her tail. “This is my cabin. I told you. We found you in the woods.”

“In the woods? Where?”

“Under a tree.” I paused. “Oh, you mean where are you geographically? We’re in Canada near the small town of Pawtree.”

He looked pained for a moment. “I don’t know where that is.”

I pulled out my phone and showed him a map. He frowned as he stared at the screen.

“You’re from the North Pole, right?” I asked.

“How do you know?”

“Your clothes. I’m from there myself. Reindeer shifter, at your service.” I smiled my friendliest smile. “Would you like some cocoa? It will warm up your insides.” I handed him a mug.

He could barely get his fingers to wrap around the handle. Without a word, I held it up to his lips so he could drink. He took a gulp. Then another. Cocoa never failed with elves.

“Thank you.”

I set the mug aside. “You were without boots and a coat. Can I ask how you got here? Like I said, the nearest town is Pawtree and it’s a good ten miles.”

He frowned, his sweet brown eyes going darker. “Magic. Mean magic. I was in Santa’s Village and then he—then he—” He stopped. “You didn’t see a figurine when you found me?”

There he was, not making sense again. “What sort of figurine?”

“An elf figurine. One that looks like me.” He looked desperate. “It’s part of the magic.”

“No. But we can go back and look for it later when you’re better. Stronger.”

He sighed, reaching for the mug with shaking hands. I brought it to his lips again and he drank deeply as I held it. At least now I knew he wasn’t going to die on me.

“I remember falling, then being in the snow. I could move again, but then everything went dark.”

“Who did this to you?”

His eyelids quivered as he met my gaze. “My father. My father did this to me.”

“Why ever?”

His eyelids fell. His head drooped. “It’s a long story.”

“If your father tried to kill you, does that mean he’ll be after you? Will he come here? Should we call the authorities in the North Pole?”

The elf shook his head. “He won’t come here. He’s not after me. Not in the way you’re thinking.”

“I’ve got contacts at the North Pole. Maybe I can help.”

Again, he shook his head. He opened his eyes, staring off at the far wall. “I don’t know if anyone can help me.”

I sat back against my heels. “Well, you can stay here as long as you need to. And if you need to go somewhere else, I can maybe help with that, too. In the meantime, can I at least know your name?”

His lower lip trembled, but he spoke firmly. “Sugar. My name’s Sugar.”

I smiled, unsurprised. Most elf names were either spices or trees or a combination of the two. They were the sweetest of creatures, nature-lovers, hard workers. Every one of them, old or young, were also cute as bugs. The one in front of me was quite a prize and he’d obviously come from wealth. People would be missing him. People would want him back.

When he felt better and started to think more clearly, I vowed to help him in any way I could.