Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

CRIS

C ris's heart was heavy as the North Star jet cut through the clear sky, heading back to the North Pole. The weight of the betrayal he'd just uncovered hung over him like a cloud he couldn't shake. His mind churned with anger and frustration, the irrefutable truth of Jack's—no… he could never think of him as Jack again. He was Frost, and his treachery played over and over in Cris's head.

Vanguard Holdings . It all made sense now—Frost had orchestrated everything. He had created that soulless corporation to buy out the best toy companies, turning them into money-making machines devoid of magic, innovation, or wonder. Cris gritted his teeth, the familiar swell of rage bubbling inside him. Frost had betrayed them all, all for the sake of power and wealth. But worse than that, Frost's plan was not only to make himself rich, but to destroy the heart of Christmas itself.

The North Pole had been Cris's sanctuary for so long. He'd been entrusted with one of Santa's most powerful gifts: the ability to fly in his shifted form, allowing him to harness magic and protect the North Pole. Cris had always believed in what they did—keeping the magic of Christmas alive for children and others who believed around the world. Now, the discovery that Frost—someone he had once considered both a friend and ally—was the mastermind behind all that had been happening tore at his very core.

As the plane began its descent, the familiar snowy landscape of the North Pole coming into view, Cris's anger intensified. He needed to shake this off before he returned to the workshop. He couldn't let the others see the storm brewing inside him. Not now. Not when everything was so precariously balanced.

The jet touched down on the snow-covered runway with a soft thud, the magic of the North Pole making the landing feel smooth and gentle despite the turbulence inside his heart. As the plane taxied to a stop, Cris rose from his seat and headed straight for the door. He needed air. He needed freedom.

The cold hit him the moment he stepped outside, but it did little to quell the fire burning inside. Without a second thought, he made his way into the open field by the airstrip, his boots crunching through the snow. The stillness of the place, the untouched beauty of the snowy landscape, was a stark contrast to the turmoil within him.

He knew what he needed to do.

Closing his eyes and called forth his moose. The familiar warmth spread through his body, the shift beginning as the air around him crackled with energy. His muscles rippled, the snow swirling up around him as his form shifted from human to something much larger, much more powerful. In a matter of moments, Cris stood as a massive moose, his antlers stretching high into the night sky, his dark eyes glistening as the transformation completed.

With a snort, he shook his large head, tossing the snow from his antlers as he began to move. Slowly at first, his powerful legs carrying him across the snowy field, the weight of his thoughts slowly lifting with each step. The freedom of his moose form was intoxicating, a wildness that let him escape the burden of leadership, of responsibility.

As he began to run, his massive hooves thundering across the snow, he felt the weight of his anger and guilt start to slip away. The wind whipped through his fur, and with a leap, he invoked the special magic Santa had granted him—the ability to dance in the air, to fly for short bursts. The snow swirled beneath him as he bounded up, his massive body soaring into the sky with an elegance that defied his size.

He couldn't fly for long—not like the reindeer—but in these short, exhilarating bursts, he felt weightless, as if he could leave everything behind. The magic of the North Pole surged through him, lifting him higher, the snow swirling in a beautiful, spiraling dance around him. He twirled and cavorted in the sky, feeling the joy and freedom that came with his moose form. For a few moments, there was no betrayal, no anger—only the pure magic of the air and the snow.

He landed gracefully, the snow cushioning his landing, and stood there for a moment, panting softly as the energy of his flight dissipated. The rage that had gnawed at him earlier felt distant now, like a shadow he had left behind in the sky.

But as he began to shift back, something caught his eye.

Cris froze mid-transformation, halfway between moose and man, as he spotted a figure standing at the edge of the field. His heart dropped. His eyes locked with hers as he finished his shift.

Keely was standing there, her eyes wide, her breath coming out in visible puffs in the cold air. Her expression was a mixture of shock and disbelief, her body frozen as if she couldn't quite process what she had just seen. And then she crumpled to the ground.

C ris paced outside the infirmary, grateful to Holly for having brought him so clothes so he could get redressed. His breath coming in ragged bursts that had little to do with the cold air of the North Pole. His boots crunched against the snow-dusted walkway, the sound steady but doing nothing to calm the storm raging inside him. The tension gnawed at his gut—Keely had seen everything. She had witnessed him flying. And now, she was lying unconscious inside, the shock of it all too much for her.

He replayed the scene over and over in his mind, her wide eyes locked on him as she watched him shift from moose back into man, the disbelief and confusion that had clouded her face before she collapsed into the snow. Cris had rushed to her side, scooping her up in his arms, his heart pounding with fear and guilt. What had he done? He had tried to protect her until he thought she was ready, but now everything was out in the open. Maybe it was for the best.

He leaned against the stone wall, staring out at the snowy expanse of the North Pole. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. His duty to protect the secrecy and security of this magical place clashed violently with the undeniable pull he felt toward Keely. He had sworn to protect this place, to keep its secrets from the human world, and yet here he was, breaking that oath for a woman who had somehow captured his heart. Granted she was shifter, but still…

How could he let her into this world? How could he not?

The door to the infirmary creaked open, and Holly stepped out, her small frame bundled up in a thick, festive coat, her green eyes shining with concern. "She's awake," Holly said gently. "You should go to her."

Cris's heart leapt at the words, but the weight of guilt and uncertainty kept his feet rooted to the ground. "How is she?"

Holly gave him a soft smile, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. "Confused, but... she seems okay. More than okay, really."

Cris's brow furrowed. He had expected Keely to be shaken, maybe even terrified. She was bright; she'd seen him fly. It wouldn't take much for her to put the pieces together. He could well imagine how it must feel to see the impossible—a world she had perhaps dreamed about but had never seen.

"She's not... scared?" he asked.

Holly shook her head, her smile widening slightly. "More like... intrigued. I think you'll be surprised."

With a deep breath, Cris nodded and forced himself to walk through the door, his heart hammering in his chest. He steeled himself for the conversation ahead, not knowing how he would explain everything to her, but he knew one thing for sure—he couldn't lie to her anymore. Whatever questions she asked, he would answer.

The moment he stepped into the room, his eyes landed on Keely, sitting up in the bed. Her cheeks were still flushed, but her wide eyes were bright with a mix of curiosity and something else... something that looked an awful lot like excitement. When she saw him, her lips curved into a soft smile.

"Hey," she said, her voice light but a little uncertain. "So... you can fly? Cool. I guess we need to talk."

Cris swallowed hard and walked over to her, pulling up a chair beside the bed. He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to start. "Keely, I—" He stopped, his voice heavy with guilt. "I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to see that. I wanted to explain it all to you... but not like this."

She tilted her head, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "You mean, you weren't going to tell me you can fly?"

Cris shrugged, unsure of how to proceed with everything he needed to say. "Yes. I can fly. It was a gift from…"

"Santa?" she supplied.

He grinned sheepishly. "Yes, a gift from Santa." He ran a hand through his hair, his heart pounding. "My guess is you've figured out that there's real magic here. Santa, elves, the whole spirit of Christmas."

She nodded. "Scrooge gets ghosts and a nightmare. I get a flying moose. I think I like mine better."

He shook his head at her almost childlike wonder. He blinked, caught off guard by not only her acceptance, but also her enthusiasm. "So you believe?"

Keely let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head in disbelief but clearly delighted. "I saw you fly with my own eyes. I saw a moose fly. You know your kind isn't known for their grace of movement, but when you were up there, it was almost like you were dancing. It was really beautiful—powerful, but beautiful. As for believing the rest of it—Santa, elves—I want to believe it. I can't tell you how much I've always wanted to believe, and now I can."

Cris stared at her, completely stunned. He had been prepared for anger, for fear, for rejection, for anything but this. He had never imagined she would embrace it so easily, so openly. "You're not... freaked out?"

Keely smiled, her eyes bright with excitement. "Are you kidding? I'm thrilled. I mean, it's a lot to take in, but... I've always loved Christmas. I've always believed in the magic of it, even if I thought it was just a story. And now... I get to be part of it."

Cris felt a wave of relief wash over him. Keely wasn't going to run away. She wasn't scared. She was here, with him, and she was accepting everything about his world with an open heart and open arms.

But before he could respond, Keely's brow furrowed as she looked at him more seriously. "So, what's going on? I've heard people whispering about having to save or to protect Christmas. From what?"

Cris snorted. "Not just what, but who. We keep a sharp eye on people's belief in the magic of Christmas. We've been monitoring it pretty closely and have figured out it is fading. It's one of the reasons why I brought you here—your ideas, your toys, I think they have the potential to reignite children's belief in Christmas. Tinker and everyone else agrees. But what I've discovered is that the magic isn't just fading, someone has been actively trying to steal the remaining magic."

Keely's eyes widened. "Who?"

"Frost," Cris said, his voice bitter.

"As in Jack Frost?"

"He used to be one of us," Cris explained, nodding. "He created a company called Vanguard Holdings…"

"Vanguard? That's who bought Schultz Toys."

"I know. He's been buying out innovative toy companies, tying up the best designers so that they either worked for him or were bound by non-competition agreements. Then he turned the companies he bought into profit-driven machines. He's taking the magic out of toys, turning them into something cold and empty. And if he succeeds... Christmas as we know it will disappear."

Keely's mouth dropped open in shock, but then her eyes narrowed. "So that's why you brought me here. You think my designs can help."

Cris nodded. "I do. Your toys, the way they spark imagination—they're what we need to fight back. If we can reignite the magic in children's hearts, we can stop Frost."

For a moment, Keely was silent, clearly processing everything. Then, slowly, a grin spread across her face. "Well, if that's what we need to do, I have a few ideas."

Cris chuckled, feeling his tension ease as he watched her excitement. Despite everything, Keely's mind was already spinning with ideas, and for the first time in days, he felt a glimmer of hope. He was beginning to believe they might just be able to stop Frost.

But just as the warmth between them began to settle, a sharp, sudden tremor rocked the room, followed by a loud crack that echoed through the walls. Cris shot to his feet.

"What the hell was that?" asked Keely. "Oh wait, can I say hell?"

Criss nodded. "It's the magical barrier around the North Pole—it sounds like it's weakening. It has to be Frost."

Before he could say more, Holly burst into the room, her face pale with fear. "Cris, it's Frost! He's here. He's attacking the North Pole, and he's not alone."

Cris could feel his blood turn to ice as the gravity of the situation slammed into him. Frost was making his move. He was making a direct attack. He was here to steal the remaining magic, and he wouldn't stop until he'd drained every last bit of Christmas spirit from the North Pole.

Cris turned to Keely, his eyes full of urgency. "Stay here. You'll be safe."

But Keely shook her head as she tossed the bedding aside. "No way. I'm not sitting this out. I'm coming with you."

Cris opened his mouth to argue, but there was no time. The sound of another explosion ripped through the air, and he knew they had to move fast. He grabbed Keely's hand, his heart pounding with the knowledge that everything—Christmas, their world, and whatever was blossoming between them—was hanging by a thread.