Chapter 9

9

Lunabelle

“ D o you need any help?” I ask, joining him in the kitchen now that my legs are finally working again.

“These are incredible,” he says, staring down at my tray of cookies. “You are so talented, Lunabelle. A true artist.”

I pick up the pretty Christmas tree and smile. “I love making them. They bring me so much joy through the holidays.” I place it back on the sheet and admire the stockings. “These would be so pretty on the cookie tree.”

“Cookie tree?”

“Every year at our Christmas Festival we have a big tree that’s made of cookies. There’s a contest, and the one voted the prettiest cookie ends up on the top of the tree. I’m the reigning champion.”

“I bet you are.” He nods, smiling. “I’ve never seen such intricate detail on anything before. They’re almost too pretty to eat, but they’re hard to resist. As are you.”

My cheeks turn the shade of my pink ribbon cookie, so I leave the cookies and go to take a seat at the table, watching as he works around the kitchen. He has skill too. The feast he’s preparing looks and smells delicious. It looks grander than I’m used to for a Christmas Eve dinner.

Realizing that tomorrow is Christmas sinks my stomach.

“Do the Keepers have any traditions or celebrations?” I ask, trying to distract myself from my sadness. It’s not exactly that I’m homesick—surprisingly—but I’m missing all the excitement. Though, the excitement of my afternoon may have been even better than rushing around trying to help prepare for Santa’s journey tonight.

“They do.” He nods. “They celebrate the red moon because it’s the one night of the year no one can enter our realm. So, the village hosts a festival filled with music and dancing; not sure what else takes place since I’ve never been.”

“Why not?’ I ask. I’ve never missed a celebration in the village. Up until this year that is.

“Because I’m never invited.”

“What? Why?” You’d think the giant who saved Santa’s life would be the guest of honor.

“Because jealousy is my father’s and brothers’ strongest trait. They hate that I’m bigger and stronger. Though, they’d never admit it. They kicked me out of the house when I grew into my size and strength. So, I claimed my mountain, built this home, and have lived in isolation ever since.”

That’s so sad. My mother may have her issues, and my father may be absent a lot, but they’d never abandon me. Not that it’s an excuse, but I think I’m starting to understand why he took me. He doesn’t think he’s worthy of my affection. He doesn’t believe anyone would willingly want to be in his company, since everyone in his life has rejected him.

“I’m sorry, Kilgore. You don’t deserve that.”

His head turns from his task, and the look in his eyes is thoughtful. “That’s sweet of you to say, Lunabelle. I have come to learn that I’m better off on my own. So, what about you?” He tips his chin in my direction.“Tell me more about you and your family.”

“Well, my dad is in charge of the workshop, which means he helps maintain order amongst the elves and assists Santa with every task leading up to Christmas. It means I don’t get to see him much this time of year.” Or during the rest of the year, really. “It’s the highest honor as an elf, so I’m proud of him.”

“And your mom?”

“She’s um…” I don’t know what to say. My mom doesn’t exactly have a job; she’s always just been busy with meaningless tasks, fluttering around, socializing. “She’s like the queen bee of the village. Always in the know. The elf that everyone looks up to.” Sometimes I think it goes to her head, but I try to ignore the moments when she’s gossiping about people. “We haven’t been on the best of terms lately because of her expectation of me.”

“What exactly does she expect from you, Little Red?” He pauses his chopping and turns to face me, and there’s a genuine concern in his eyes.

“She wants me to marry Quill Bellflake.”

“That’s never going to happen,” he growls. “You’re mine.” There he goes again with his barbaric demands.

“You don’t just claim people,” I snap, mad that even after our intimacy he thinks he can just force my hand to be with him. I thought he was trying to win my affection, but he’s not trying to win anything except for my obedience. “You have to earn one’s love and trust, Kilgore. You don’t just demand it. We hardly know each other; you can’t just expect me to be yours.”

“No.” He stabs the knife down into the wooden cutting board, startling me with his strength. “You will not be this Quill Bellsnake’s, nor will you belong to anyone else. And that is final.” Bellflake but there’s no point in correcting the big ape. He’s as stubborn as a reindeer.

I stand from the table, upset that I let myself open up to the big brute and was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, excuse him for kidnapping me. For a second, I believed he had a heart, but he only has a brain and it lives between his legs.