Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

KEELY

K eely's office and workspace was off the main floor of the toy factory. She stared out the frosted window into the magical landscape of the North Star Toys facility. The snow glittered beneath the soft glow of the hanging lanterns outside, casting a surreal beauty over the scene. She'd barely caught her breath since arriving.

Cris had been called away almost immediately after their heated moment in the bakery. He'd apologized more than once, his intense gaze locking onto hers, promising he'd be back as soon as possible.

The sudden knock at her door startled her from her thoughts.

"Come in," Keely called, rising from the stool.

The door opened to reveal Holly, the petite, delicate girl who had introduced herself as one of Cris's chief toymakers. She was almost impossibly tiny, with bright, sparkling green eyes, a smattering of freckles across her nose, and a cheery smile that seemed to never leave her face. Today, she was bundled in a festive green and red coat with a furry collar.

"Hi, Keely!" Holly greeted with a bright, chipper tone as she stepped inside, a hint of snow still clinging to her coat. "I just wanted to let you know that the crisis has been averted. Cris managed to get everything stabilized, so everything is under control now. He's keeping an eye on things, but he should be back any time."

Keely breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't been given many details about what was happening, but the way Cris had rushed off had made her worry. "Thank you, Holly. That's great news. Is he... is Cris okay?"

Holly nodded, her eyes softening. "He's fine, but unfortunately, he's still got a few things to take care of and then will be tied up in meetings and other stuff with the big boss. He won't be able to break away just yet."

Keely bit her lip, disappointment and something else—something she wasn't ready to admit—settling in her stomach. "That's okay. I understand. I'll just... dive into work."

Holly's smile widened, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. "I'll bet you're like me, once you get started on something, it's easy to lose yourself in the magic of making toys. Knowing some kid will get their hands on it and have so much fun is a great feeling."

Keely nodded, offering her a small smile. "I do. It's so different here—and different in a good way. It's like nothing I've ever seen."

"Well, if you need anything," Holly said, "just ask. I'll be around. We elves are always—" She paused, her eyes widening in realization, her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. "I mean... um, I'll be around, that's all."

Keely's brow furrowed, the word elves hanging in the air like an odd, unshakable mystery. "Did you just say elves?"

Holly's face turned even redder, and she laughed nervously, waving her hand. "Oh! Did I? Silly me! I just meant, you know, like... little helpers. It's just a joke we have around here. You know, Christmas spirit, Santa's helpers and all."

Keely narrowed her eyes slightly but didn't push it, a strange feeling nagging at the back of her mind. She'd noticed some peculiar things about the workshop and the way everything seemed to work in almost magical harmony. Still, she shrugged it off, deciding to focus on the work for now.

For the next few days, Keely threw herself into designing, sketching ideas, and experimenting with toy concepts. The workshop was an absolute wonderland, every corner brimming with whimsical tools and materials she had never dreamed existed. She found herself working closely with Tinker, a jovial, brilliant man with an odd habit of tinkering with gadgets that seemed far too advanced for a mere toy workshop.

Tinker was more than just a colleague—he had quickly become a sounding board for her most outlandish ideas, encouraging her creativity in ways no one ever had before. His enthusiasm was infectious, and Keely found herself growing more and more immersed in the work. But, even amidst the joy of creation, she couldn't help but notice the workshop's strange, almost unnatural efficiency. Toys were assembled at an impossibly fast pace, and the workers... well, they moved with an agility and speed that left her both impressed and puzzled.

One afternoon, as she'd watched a small group of workers putting the finishing touches on a set of interactive snow globes she had designed, something caught her eye. One of the workers—a quiet young man with dark hair tucked beneath a festive red cap—turned slightly as he reached for a tool. Keely's heart skipped a beat.

Peeking out from under his cap was what appeared to be the pointed tip of an ear.

Keely blinked, trying to process what she had seen. Her rational mind fought against the explanation that immediately surfaced, but the evidence was right there in front of her. Pointy ears. The kind of ears you only saw in storybooks or movies about... elves .

She'd watched the worker closely, but he seemed unaware of her scrutiny. As he moved about, his speed and precision were undeniable—unnatural, even. Keely's mind raced as she remembered it. Could it be that Holly hadn't been joking when she'd mentioned elves? Was this entire workshop staffed by…

"Keely, are you all right?" Tinker's voice broke through her thoughts, and she turned to find him watching her with a curious expression.

Keely quickly forced a smile. "Oh, I'm fine. Just... getting lost in all the amazing work here."

Tinker chuckled, nodding in agreement. "It's easy to do. We take pride in creating magic here, you know."

Magic . The word sent another shiver of curiosity down her spine. Was that really what was happening? Keely's rational side fought to make sense of it all, but the more time she spent here, the more things felt... impossible.

Later that evening, as she sat alone in her room, staring out into the snow-covered wonderland beyond the window, her thoughts circled back to Cris. She missed him. More than she wanted to admit. And she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling her—something big. Her gaze flickered back to the sketches spread across her desk, but her mind was miles away.

She had been brought here for a reason, and somehow, it felt like more than just a consulting job. There was magic in the air— real magic —and Keely couldn't ignore it anymore. But what did it all mean? And more importantly, what role did she play in it?

As the night deepened, Keely's thoughts returned again and again to Cris. She needed answers. She needed him to tell her the truth. Because no matter how much her mind tried to rationalize it, she was starting to believe that this world was far more extraordinary than she could have ever imagined. And Cris Sutton was at the center of it all.

Tomorrow, she would find out. One way or another.

The following day, Keely resumed her work in the toy factory. Holly had popped in moments earlier, cheerily announcing that Cris had returned and would likely want to meet with Keely soon. Keely's heart had leapt at the news. As much as she wanted to focus on the work and the puzzle of this place, Cris had been a constant in her thoughts. Their connection, the pull between them—it was undeniable. She needed to see him, to talk to him, to understand what was really happening here.

Without giving herself too much time to second-guess, Keely threw on her coat and headed out into the icy afternoon, her breath coming out in soft puffs as she made her way through the snowy wonderland of the North Pole. The cold nipped at her cheeks, but it did little to deter her.

The snow crunched beneath her boots as she wandered toward the small field near the company's airstrip, a place she had found herself gravitating toward whenever she needed a moment to think.

It was still early in the afternoon, and the world around her was blanketed in a fresh layer of powdery snow, undisturbed by footprints or activity. The field was wide open, with the private jet she had arrived in parked at the far edge, its metallic surface gleaming in the soft light. The quiet serenity of the place always brought her a sense of peace, but today, there was an electric charge in the air—something she couldn't quite place.

As she drew closer to the field, a sudden movement caught her eye. She stopped, squinting through the soft snowfall to focus on what appeared to be a large, dark figure at the far end of the field, just beyond the plane.

Keely blinked, unsure of what she was seeing. It was a moose—a massive, majestic creature with towering antlers, like a crown, that seemed to reach toward the sky. But as far as she knew, there were no moose indigenous to the North Pole, and yet there it was. Its dark coat stood out sharply against the snowy backdrop, and for a moment, Keely's breath caught in her throat at the sight of it.

But then, something extraordinary happened.

The moose—this enormous, grounded animal—began to move in ways that defied logic. With a graceful bound, it lifted its heavy body into the air, as if the snow beneath its hooves had turned weightless. Keely's eyes widened as she watched the moose leap into the air, its legs outstretched, and then—it happened again. The moose, impossibly large, seemed to cavort through the field as though gravity had simply lost its grip on it.

It twirled midair with a surprising elegance, its antlers slicing through the air in slow motion, almost as if the world had tilted into a dream. Keely gasped, watching as it bounded in great, joyful leaps, each one higher than the last, until it was practically dancing across the field, the snow swirling beneath it.

She stood frozen in place, captivated by the sight, her rational mind struggling to comprehend what was happening. Moose don't fly —that was her first thought, but here it was, defying every law of nature as it pranced and twirled in midair, moving with a fluid grace that didn't belong to a creature of its size.

It circled the company plane once, twice, leaping higher each time, before landing softly back in the snow with barely a sound. For a moment, it stood still, its dark eyes glistening in the afternoon light, watching her with an intelligence that seemed far beyond that of a simple animal.

Keely's heart pounded in her chest as she took a hesitant step forward, her breath catching in her throat. Was this some kind of trick? An illusion? She shivered, not from the cold but from the unsettling feeling that her world was once again turning upside down, and the truth—whatever it was—was closer than ever to being revealed.

And then, without warning, a localized swirl of snow whipped up around the moose, forming a small cyclone that spiraled upward, circling the massive animal like a vortex. The wind picked up, though it didn't seem to touch the rest of the landscape—it was concentrated solely around the moose.

Keely's heart pounded in her chest as she watched, frozen in place, her wide eyes locked on the swirling storm. Snow flew wildly in the air, but despite the chaos, the moose remained eerily calm, as though the storm was a part of it.

Suddenly, the snowstorm stilled, and with one final gust, the wind fell away completely. Keely blinked, her breath catching in her throat.

The moose was gone. Standing in its place, his breath heavy, his dark hair tousled by the wind, was Cris. He was naked, his broad, muscular frame bathed in the soft glow of the sun, his skin flushed from the cold but unaffected by it. She'd been right; he was a shifter.

Cris's eyes caught hers, and for a split second, they both froze, the air between them thick with shock and something deeper, something raw. His dark eyes, full of intensity, locked onto hers, and Keely's heart thudded painfully in her chest.

She had just witnessed the impossible. Keely had been pretty sure Cris was a shifter, just not what kind. Now she knew he was a moose shifter, and not just any moose shifter, but one that could fly. Everyone at North Star Toys talked about magic and how it infused everything, and now she knew that the magic was real and was pretty sure that Cris's boss was a jolly old fat man in a red suit.

It was as if everything began to crowd in on her. She could feel herself going weak in the knees. The last thing she saw as she slowly slid to the ground was Cris's expression shifting from shock to concern, his lips parting as if to call her name.

The snow cushioned her fall, and as the world faded around her, the only thing that remained in her mind was the image of Cris—and the moose—before it all slipped away into darkness.