Chapter Three

RUE

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the suffocating heaviness pressing down on me. My limbs felt like they were weighted, and every inch of my body ached. I blinked slowly, trying to shake off the haze. The room was dim, the only light coming from a crackling hearth. The air smelled of woodsmoke and something earthy, tinged with spices. Where was I?

My heart began to race as I struggled to remember. I tried to push myself up, but pain shot through my ankle, sharp and unrelenting. And then it all came back—the storm, the bitter cold, the fall… The Orc . My pulse spiked.

Panic set in as I glanced around. The room was simple, almost primitive, lined with furs and rough-hewn beams. I swallowed hard, unease twisting in my chest.

How long had I been here?

The creak of floorboards made me freeze. I tensed instinctively as a large figure moved toward me from the shadows—Noel, the Orc.

He towered over me, his body casting long shadows in the dim light. His face was hard to read, those dark, deep-set eyes flicking over me, assessing. Concern? Irritation? I couldn't tell. His voice was deep and gravelly, slicing through the silence.

"You're awake." It wasn't a question. His tone was blunt, but there was something beneath the gruff exterior, something softer. "You've been out for two days."

Two days? My heart thudded painfully in my chest. Two days was too long. I had been running, barely staying ahead of them…I glanced down at my ankle, bandaged neatly, and swallowed a rush of emotion. He'd helped me. He could've left me there to freeze, but instead, he brought me here.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice scratchy, fighting to hold back the panic rising in my throat.

"You caught a fever." His dark gaze lingered on me, then shifted away as he stood, his movements deliberate. "I wasn't sure you'd make it."

His words hit harder than I expected, a chill running through me that had nothing to do with the cold outside. I remembered stumbling through the forest, half-delirious, desperate to keep going. I had known my strength wouldn't last much longer, and then I'd seen him. Orcs were supposed to be dangerous, cruel—but he hadn't hurt me. He had brought me here.

Still, I couldn't let my guard down. I knew better than to trust appearances. Orcs had a reputation of savagery and violence. Just because he hadn't hurt me yet didn't mean he wouldn't. And I had too much at stake.

I pushed myself up again, wincing as the pain flared in my ankle. Before I could steady myself, Noel's large hand was there, holding me firmly but gently. His touch surprised me—warm, steady, not what I'd expect from someone of his size.

"Careful," he muttered, his voice softening just a little. "Your ankle's not healed."

I glanced down again at the bandages, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. He had taken care of me. An Orc . I wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"Thank you," I whispered, unsure of what else to say. I was grateful—my life had been in his hands, after all—but I also couldn't shake the wariness that hung over me like a shadow.

Noel grunted, a low sound of acknowledgment, then moved away, disappearing into what I assumed was the kitchen. My eyes followed him, every muscle in my body tense. I didn't trust him. I couldn't. Orcs were unpredictable—dangerous. That was what I'd always been told.

But was it any different than the way people looked at me?

The thought tugged at something deep inside me. I was no stranger to being judged for what I was. I remembered the way people had stared when they learned the truth—that I wasn't human. I was something else. A shifter. A rare creature that didn't quite fit anywhere.

Kris Kringle—my father—had found me when I was a baby, abandoned in the forest, likely because of my oddity. I was a reindeer shifter, and that kind of magic wasn't only rare—it was feared. People didn't understand it, so they pushed it away. But my parents, Kris and Clara Kringle, had taken me in. They'd loved me as their own.

I'd grown up at the North Pole, raised with the magic of Christmas, surrounded by love and joy. I had a gift for navigation, an instinct that was part of who I was, part of my magic. I loved the animals, the children, and the way Christmas brought hope and light into the world. That was why my father had chosen me to lead the reindeer team each year. It was something I looked forward to, something that felt like it was in my blood.

But now, all of that was at risk.

Noel's footsteps brought me back to the present. He returned with a wooden tray, and the smell of cooked meat and warm bread made my stomach growl loudly. I hadn't realized how hungry I was.

"You need to eat," he said, his voice a little softer now. He placed the tray on a small table beside me and sat down across from me, arms folded across his chest, watching.

I hesitated, glancing at the food, then back at him. I couldn't shake my fear. Just because he hadn't hurt me yet didn't mean he wouldn't. He could still turn me over to the Dark King in hopes of a reward. The thought gnawed at me, but my stomach's protests grew louder. I had no strength left to refuse. I picked up the spoon and took a small bite of the stew. The rich flavors hit my tongue, warming me from the inside out, and before I knew it, I was devouring it, my hunger taking over.

Noel remained silent as I ate, his dark eyes trained on me, studying me. His presence was overwhelming, filling the space like a physical force, but there was no malice in it. Nothing in his gaze held the cold cruelty I had seen in Azrael Frost's eyes.

My heart sank just thinking about him.

I had known Azrael since I was a child, back when things had been...different. But then his father had died, and Azrael's heart had grown bitter, twisted by anger and jealousy. He had blamed my father for his own's death, even though it had been a tragic accident—one my father had never forgiven himself for. Azrael's thirst for revenge had poisoned his spirit, turning him into the Dark King who now ruled over the land with an iron fist.

And now, I'd become his pawn in his wicked quest for power.

"If you give her to me in marriage, I'll free the elves," Azrael had promised my father, his icy blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he sealed the deal.

Father had been desperate. Guilt-ridden. He had agreed, even though he knew what it meant for me. Even though it broke my heart. Santa Claus had promised me to Azrael, and I had run.

I would rather die than be the Dark King's bride. I couldn't imagine giving myself to Azrael. I had never…I was a virgin, and the thought of him touching me, of belonging to him in any way, made me sick to my core.

My mother, Clara, had found me as I was sneaking out of our home in the North Pole, bundled in furs, my bag slung over my shoulder in the dead of night. She hadn't stopped me. She had hugged me tightly, wrapping her warmest woolen scarf around my neck, and let me go, watching silently as I hurried from the cozy warmth of our home and out into the bitter cold. There had been tears in her eyes, but she hadn't said a word.

That was the last time I had seen her.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, pushing those memories aside as I glanced at Noel. He was watching me again, his eyes dark and thoughtful, though he said nothing.

When I finished the meal, I set the spoon down, feeling physically stronger but emotionally raw. I couldn't stay here. I couldn't let the storm trap me, even if my ankle wasn't healed yet. If I stayed too long, Azrael's soldiers would find me. It was only a matter of time.

"I need to leave," I said quietly, my voice trembling. "I can't stay here."

Noel's gaze flicked toward the window, where snow piled high against the glass. The wind howled outside, making the walls of the cabin creak. "You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice firm. "Not in this storm. You wouldn't survive."

My heart clenched. The storm might be deadly, but what waited for me if I didn't escape was worse. I had less than two days.

Two days.

I had to be gone by Christmas Eve, I couldn't let them find me and force me into a marriage I didn't want. I couldn't...I couldn't let that happen.

"I don't have time," I whispered, more to myself than to Noel.

He glanced at me, his dark eyes narrowing. "Why?"

I swallowed hard, panic building in my chest. I couldn't tell him.

"I just...need to get away," I said, my voice shaky. "From everything. From my past. My future."

Noel studied me for a long moment, as though he was trying to see through the lie I hadn't even bothered to disguise. But after a tense silence, he nodded slowly.

"The storm will last a few more days. But you're not leaving until it's over," he said, his tone unyielding. "You need rest anyway, and food for strength."

Days? I didn't have days. My heart pounded in my chest, the walls of the cabin suddenly feeling like they were closing in on me. I didn't have days. For all I knew, the Dark King's minions might be merely minutes from seizing me.

"What about you?" I asked, desperate to change the subject, to distract myself from the crushing weight of the situation. "The holiday is coming. Do you have plans for Christmas? With your family, perhaps?"

Noel's lips twisted into a bitter smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. "I'll be at the Dark King's wedding. Like everyone else."

I froze. The wedding. My wedding.

The words hung between us like a curse, and my blood ran cold. He had received a summons, just like everyone else in the land. Azrael expected the entire kingdom to witness my fate—my forced union to become his bride.

Noel's expression softened as he looked at me. "No family left," he said quietly. "Lost them when the Dark King took over the forest."

The sadness in his voice caught me off guard. I hadn't expected to feel sympathy for an Orc, but hearing the pain behind his words made me see him differently. He had lost people, just like I had. He had been hurt, just like me.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, unsure of what else to say. The words felt small, but they were sincere.

Noel didn't respond, but the sadness in his eyes was unmistakable. He glanced away, the firelight flickering against his strong features, casting shadows on the walls. He looked so different from the image of Orcs I had always carried with me. He wasn't violent or savage. He was kind, in his own quiet way.

And he was handsome. That realization hit me unexpectedly, my heart skipping a beat as I looked at him again. His broad shoulders, his powerful arms, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead. His presence filled the room, not with menace, but with strength. He had been gentle with me, tending to my wounds, making sure I ate. His hands, so large and calloused, had bandaged my ankle with care.

I swallowed hard, feeling a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the fire. I couldn't let myself feel this way. I couldn't get distracted. I was running out of time, and I still didn't know if I could trust him.

"You should rest," Noel said again, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. "You need to heal."

I nodded, sinking back into the bed, though my mind was far from resting. I was trapped here, both by the storm and by my own secrets. And what scared me most wasn't the storm outside or the soldiers hunting me.

It was the Orc standing in front of me, whose quiet strength and gentle care were starting to tempt me from my path in ways I had never imagined.