Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

CRIS

C ris strode through the thick snow, his breath coming out in quick clouds as he crossed the icy courtyard of North Star's Headquarters. His coat was pulled tight around him, but the cold did little to numb the heat still coursing through his veins—the lingering fire left behind from his night with Keely. He couldn't stop thinking about her. The reality of his world and all it entailed had yanked him away far too soon.

He clenched his fists as he neared the towering doors of the North Star Toy factory, frustration gnawing at him. He hadn't wanted to leave like that, slipping out before dawn with only a note to explain. If it hadn't been for that urgent message from Holly, his chief toymaker, he might still be there with Keely, tangled in her sheets, exploring every inch of her until they both forgot about the outside world.

But Holly's message had been clear: something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

The heavy wooden doors swung open, the warm glow from inside spilling into the snow-covered courtyard. The scent of gingerbread and peppermint always lingered in the air here, but today, there seemed to be a subtle change in the magic that pulsed through the place.

Holly was waiting for him just inside the entrance, her petite figure tense, a frown creasing her usually cheerful face. Being an elf, Holly's pointed ears twitched slightly when something had her rattled.

"Holly," Cris said as he approached, his voice rougher than usual. His thoughts were still half-occupied with Keely, but the seriousness in Holly's eyes snapped his focus back to the present. "What's going on?"

"It's bad, Cris," Holly said, her green eyes wide with concern. She shifted nervously, her small hands clasped together. "We've been keeping a close eye on the belief levels around the world. They're dropping… fast."

A cold dread slid through him. "How fast?" he asked, his jaw tightening. She was right; they had been watching them, but he hadn't anticipated this, not so soon before Christmas.

"Way too fast." Holly shook her head, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If they keep dropping, we might not have enough to keep up with production, much less to power the sleigh. We've tried recalibrating the distribution systems, but it isn't doing any good. It's like with fewer and fewer people believing, the magic is... fading."

Cris cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "This can't be happening," he muttered. "Not now."

"We have to figure this out. If we don't, we'll be lucky to get through the season. I can't imagine a world without Christmas and all the magic that comes with it."

Cris nodded and gestured for her to follow as they made their way through the open workshop and into the main meeting hall. The place was usually bustling with activity—elves working on the latest toys, the hum of the season filling the air—but today, the energy felt subdued. Even the overhead lights seemed dimmer, flickering slightly as if struggling to stay lit.

Damn it.

His thoughts raced as he walked, feeling the weight of his responsibilities. This was more than just a job. For him and everyone else here, Christmas had become something of a calling. It had been ever since Santa entrusted him with overseeing the operations at North Star Toys. He needed to get this fixed, and fast, before it reached Santa's ears.

Pushing the door to the conference room open, Cris found Jack and Tinker already waiting for him. Jack leaned casually against the wall, his pale skin and silver hair making him look as frosty as the winter air outside, but there was a sharpness in his gaze, an awareness of the gravity of the situation. Tinker, the head of the toy division, sat at the table, his brow furrowed as he toyed with a small mechanical gadget in his hands.

"This had better be good, Cris," Jack drawled, his eyes narrowing. "I was in the middle of a rather important ice storm."

"I'm not in the mood, Jack," Cris snapped as he took his place at the head of the table. "We have a serious problem. Holly says the belief levels are dropping all over the world. If we don't get it fixed, Christmas could be in jeopardy."

Tinker frowned, setting down the gadget. "The belief levels? That hasn't happened in—well, in at least the last couple of centuries." He turned to Holly. "Any idea what's causing it?"

"None. I've been over all the data and it makes no sense."

"I had to go south to meet with the head toy designer of Schultz Toys…"

"Keely Blake?" asked Tinker, his head coming up. "Oh, she's good. Very good. Her toys might have just that spark needed to make the kids' belief systems go into overdrive."

"That was my thought, as well," said Cris, nodding. "Holly and her people have done everything they could," he said drumming his fingers on the table.

"Nothing is working," Holly admitted. "I'm really afraid we're running out of time."

"Not to worry," said Jack. "The head honcho is back; I'm sure he'll figure it out."

Tinker shifted in his seat. "But belief doesn't just vanish like that. Something—or someone —has to be draining it."

"Agreed," said Cris, frustration gnawing at him. "We need to figure out what's happening and get it stopped before it's too late."

Holly stepped forward, her voice quiet but firm. "If the world is losing its belief in Christmas and everything it stands for, we might not have enough magic to finish making the toys or to power Santa's sleigh. The reindeer can help with Christmas Eve and the way they manipulate time, but there's nothing else they can do."

The room went silent, the air heavy and thick with tension as everyone exchanged uneasy glances. Cris could feel the weight of their gazes on him, waiting for direction, for answers. But he didn't have any. It didn't help that his mind kept drifting back to Keely. Something about her still lingered in his thoughts.

"Cris?" Tinker's voice broke through his thoughts. "We need a plan."

Feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, Cris straightened his back. "First things first," he said, his voice steady. "We need to isolate the problem. Holly, you and Tinker focus on the factory's reserves. Look for any anomalies in the system, anything that could point to why the power levels are dropping so rapidly. Jack…"

"I'll handle the external factors," Jack interrupted, his eyes locked on Cris. "I'll check the weather patterns to see if there's any unusual activity in the northern realms. If someone's tampering with something, it won't go unnoticed."

Cris nodded, grateful for Jack's willingness to take this seriously. With Jack that wasn't always a given. "Good. I'll keep an eye on production levels and the sleigh. If things don't get better fast, we might need to prepare for the worst."

"And what about Santa?" Holly asked, her voice hesitant. "He's going to find out sooner or later."

"Not if we can help it," Cris said firmly. "The big guy's got enough on his plate. This is our problem to solve."

The room fell silent; the enormity of the situation sinking in. Cris's mind churned with possibilities, strategies, and the growing fear of what might happen if they didn't figure out what was happening in time.

As the meeting broke up and he headed for his cabin, his mind drifted back to Keely. He needed to see her again. Maybe Tinker was right. Maybe she could help. Or maybe he was just trying to justify reaching out to her.

He let out a breath, trying to steady himself, but a chill of realization crawled down his spine. Keely wasn't just some woman. She was his woman. The thought hit him with the force of a sledgehammer, making his heart pounded in his chest. Fated mate. He hadn't believed it could happen—not to him. Fated mates happened to predators—lions, tigers, wolves and the like, but not to non-predatory species like him. While moose could be lethal, they were not in the same class as the more overtly violent species. They were, however, incredibly pragmatic, and Cris took great pride in that. He had accepted that his role as Santa's right-hand man would mean sacrifices. Family, love—those things had never been part of his plan.

Until now.

As he poured himself a cup of coffee, his mind was spinning, piecing together the sudden connection that was forming in his head. Keely's toy designs. They had been brilliant, filled with whimsy and imagination—exactly the kind of thing that could spark belief in children. And belief, more than anything, was the lifeblood of Christmas magic.

It was a long shot, but what if Keely's innovative creations were the key to reigniting belief? What if she was the answer to the crisis they were facing?

He picked up his phone and dialed Tinker. "Tinker, what if we brought on a whole new line of toys?"

"That's not so easily done, especially this time of year. Most designers are finishing up their work."

"What about Keely Blake?"

"She works for Schultz…"

"But what if she didn't? I got the feeling she was holding something back. What if she's been developing her own line of toys?"

There was silence on the other end. "Maybe. Her designs are different. They're... innovative, filled with something that's missing in other toys—even ours. The kind of things that could remind children of the magic and wonder they've been losing touch with. If we can introduce her ideas into production, it might be enough to reverse the decline."

"It's a risk," Cris said, his voice cautious. "Bringing someone here—letting them in on what's really going on... it's dangerous. What if she can't handle it?"

"She can. She lives in Otter Cove. Either she's a shifter, or she at least understands the need for secrecy," Tinker said firmly. "It's a small step from that to believing in magic… just ask Dash."

What Tinker didn't know, but Cris did, was that she was his fated mate. None of them needed to know that—not even Keely. She might not be aware, but she had to have felt the connection even if she didn't completely understand it. He wasn't about to let her slip through his fingers—especially not when she could be the key to saving everything.

"Then it's settled. I'm bringing her here," Cris said, his tone brooking no argument. "I think she's our best bet."

"Agreed," said Tinker. "If we don't find a way to stabilize things soon, we won't have a Christmas to save."

He would go to Keely. He would bring her here. And he would face whatever consequences came with it. Because something deep inside him told him that she was more than just a brilliant designer. She was the answer to everything.