5. Wink

5

Wink

S omething had changed. No, not something. Everything .

When Derek had held me in his hands, it was like my entire world had been shattered, then remade in a whole new shape I didn’t recognize. Jagged edges were worn smooth. The North Pole didn’t matter anymore, my tenuous future as an ornament was nothing but a sidenote.

Derek was my mate, and I was well and truly obsessed, plain and simple.

Now, instead of being bored out of my skull, I was counting down the minutes until Derek would come home, nothing as important as that moment when he would walk through the door. He’d gone to the doctor and hadn’t come back, and now it was getting dark. I didn’t know much about humans and their ailments, but I suspected Derek’s had more to do with his raccoon’s late-night snacking than it did from any real health concerns. But would his doctor come to the same conclusion? Doubtful .

Chewy’s ears perked up, and he hopped off the couch and ran to the door, even before I heard the key in the lock. My heart fluttered inside my porcelain chest, impossible but true, and tiny cracks formed in the glass of my fists as I ached to hold him.

When the door opened and Derek walked through, I felt relief at the sight of him, while also a different kind of tension taking root. It was a delicious torture, to be so close to him and yet still immeasurably far, knowing what he could be to me. What we could be to each other.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he cooed, and for the barest of seconds, I thought he meant me, but of course, he didn’t. He bent and picked up his cat, cradling him against his chest and stroking down his back. “How was your day?” He waited for a beat, presumably allowing his feline companion a chance to answer, before he said, “My day was absolute shit, thanks for asking.”

Carrying Chewy into the kitchen, he grabbed an old-fashioned stovetop kettle and filled it with water. “I don’t know what I expected the doctor to say,” he went on. “He did blood work and gave me a whole physical, but he couldn’t find anything wrong. But I mean, not to be morbid, but if it was something really serious like cancer, I probably would’ve been dead by now.” He sighed, setting the kettle on the stove and turning it on, the element turning red.

He paused at the island, his eyes drifting my way, until he was looking right at me. “I lied to Leander,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s been going on a lot longer than a year.”

My heart broke for my mate. Why didn’t he understand what was going on with him? Hadn’t anyone ever told him that he was a shifter? Why wasn’t his animal talking to him? The kettle whistled, and when he turned away to make himself a cup of tea, he missed the crack that sliced through my glass chest, right where my heart should’ve been .

It was early, not even 9pm, but I watched with longing as Derek carried his cup of tea down the hall. “Night, Chewy,” he said with a yawn, his slippers shuffling.

I wanted nothing more than to be able to go with him. I almost felt like I could… Ever since he held me, there’d been this loosening deep inside me, like I was fraying at the seams, and it felt like if I could just find the end of the thread and tug, I would come tumbling out as my usual elf self.

All I had to do was give in.

But assuming I did change back, what then? What would Derek think if an elf snuck into his room at night to cuddle? I mentally winced. Yeah, that had definite stalker vibes all over it. Chewy was staring at me, tail swaying, and maybe it was just me, but I swore I felt those yellow-green eyes judging me.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I muttered, and when he meowed back, I realized I had somehow spoken out loud. Whatever magic had transformed me into this shape, it was failing, and I had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with the connection I felt with Derek.

It didn’t take long for Derek to fall asleep. I knew that because not even half an hour later, his raccoon came meandering down the hall, headed straight for the kitchen. He disappeared from view, and no amount of trying to lean could help me see around the island. But then I saw the fridge open and heard the distinct sound of Tupperware being pried open by tiny, clawed hands.

I wanted to groan in frustration. This was why he was never hungry, why he was always tired!

Chewy went over to investigate, and if I thought he was going to talk some sense into his owner, I was mistaken. He came back, instead, with a piece of leftover chicken in his mouth .

“Traitor,” I hissed at him, and his ears flattened. He slunk under the couch with his snack.

The fridge closed, and Derek’s raccoon reappeared, heading to the couch dragging a giant slice of pizza—looked like pepperoni and mushroom.

I couldn’t begrudge anyone their cravings, but I knew Derek was going to feel awful tomorrow, and he wouldn’t even understand why. I wanted to somehow fix this, but what was I supposed to do? I felt so helpless! But then I realized something. If Derek didn’t remember what happened at night, that meant he wouldn’t remember seeing me at night either…

With determination brewing, I focused inward and found that loose thread, just like I knew I would. I gave it a gentle tug to see what would happen, and sure enough, the warp and weave of the spell began to unravel. With one mighty jerk, a terrifying squeeze, then a nauseating lurch, I dropped to the floor, face flat on the area rug.

I groaned, unable to move. Every inch of my body hurt, as if I’d actually been physically crammed into that tiny shape for the past few days, instead of it being a spell. Pushing up to all fours, I found myself face to face with a very irate raccoon. He bared his teeth and growled, fully prepared to protect his home turf. Did shifters carry rabies?

“Easy,” I said softly, keeping my movements slow. “I’m not here to hurt you.” Without breaking eye contact, I sat back on my haunches and showed that my hands were empty. “I’m actually here to help Derek. You know who that is, right?”

The growl cut out abruptly, his upper lip lowering back into place, but I wasn’t about to breathe easy just yet. But then Chewy came along, sauntering between us with his tail held high, and he brushed his head up against one of my hands, asking for pats .

That certainly broke the tension. Derek’s animal crept forward, his little black nose wiggling as he took a sniff—then he waddled straight up to me and crawled into my lap. “Hey, sweetie. Yeah, you recognize that smell, don’t you? I’m your mate. Now, if you could please fill Derek in on that, I’d really appreciate it.”

He chattered happily, his claws tugging at my vest as he tried to climb me like a tree, but he gave no indication whether he understood me or not. I looked into his eyes, like black marbles, and saw no sign of the man I knew was in there somewhere.

“Okay, we’ll work on that,” I told him, sighing.

I dug my fingers into his wiry fur and ran my hands down his back, and he nuzzled into my neck, which I took as a sign that he liked that, so I kept at it for a few minutes, debating what to do next.

Here were the things I knew:

Derek was overtired and anxious about his health.

Derek was a shifter, but he and his raccoon weren’t talking to each other.

I seemed to be the only one in a position to do anything to help.

Was this what Santa had meant when he said I was destined for a better life? Was helping Derek the greater purpose fate saw fit to grant me?

“Well, looks like you’re stuck with me,” I said with determination, rising to stand with the raccoon in my arms. “Since you’ve had your snack, I’m going to ask you a really important favor. Derek hasn’t been feeling very well, and I think it’s because you’re keeping him up all night. Do you think maybe you could let him sleep properly tonight? Just for one night, and then I’ll figure something else out, something that will work in everyone’s favor. Deal?”

He didn’t say anything—well, of course he wouldn’t, but he didn’t seem entirely against the idea either. He sat back in my arms and stared up at me as I walked him back to Derek’s bedroom.

I was assaulted by the overwhelming scent of my mate in this room, and I sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. There was a framed picture on the dresser of him and his friend Leander, wearing aprons and holding whisks, flour on their grinning faces. I bet there was a great story behind that picture, and I wished Derek were here to tell me all about it.

His raccoon crawled off my lap and onto the bed, and without any kind of warning, he shifted back into his skin—his very naked skin !

“Shit!” I blurted, bolting off the bed and averting my eyes. Regardless of my precautions, my body reacted, my velvet pants not stretching to accommodate my thickening girth.

Derek rolled over, blinking at me blearily. “You’re my elf,” he said, his voice all gravelly.

“Um… yes,” I answered, not sure where to look that wasn’t inappropriate right now.

He sat up and smiled. “You’re even cuter than your ornament.” Then he yawned, his eyes drooping, and fell back against the pillow, rolling away, muttering something like, “…I have the best dreams…” His new position left his ass on display, so I very carefully reached out and grabbed the blanket, draping it over him until he was fully covered.

When his soft snores started up, I blew out a relieved breath. “Sleep well, Derek,” I whispered, risking a brush of my fingers through his hair. “Tomorrow will be a fresh start. I’m here to take care of you now, and I promise, we’ll figure something out.”

Even though I knew he was fine and would be all night, I hated to leave him. Sure, he hadn’t freaked out when he’d seen me, but I wasn’t stupid enough to believe it would have the same result if he found me in his room in the morning when he wasn’t dreaming.

With a gut-wrenching ache, I trudged back to the living room. Chewy had one leg in the air, licking his unmentionables, but he paused long enough to stare at me as I stood in front of the Christmas tree. “Now all I have to do is figure out how to turn myself back into the ornament,” I said to him. “No biggie, right?”